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#but I don’t want to break that out until I’m ready to be covered in ink
ponderingmoonlight · 2 days
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Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...
Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted
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Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.
Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.
“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”
And probably the biggest pain in your ass.
“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.
His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?
“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”
You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?
“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.
“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”
“I’d love to see you try, princess.”
“I’ve never seen you around here.”
The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.
There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.
“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.
Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain
“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.
“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”
You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.
It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.
Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?
“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”
What.
On.
Earth.
Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-
“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.
You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.
You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?
“Hey, look at me.”
Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.
“Tell me you don’t believe her.”
“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.
He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.
“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”
It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…
Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.
Affection? For Gojo?
“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.
He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.
What a pathetic jerk you are.
You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.
“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.
“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.
You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?
“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”
Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.
Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.
This.
This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?
This right here.
Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.
Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.
“Believing me know?”
“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.
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Tags:
@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld
@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen
@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 
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@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 
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@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299
@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa
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alexis-royce · 6 months
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Thinking about stroke order and variable line weight in The Correspondence. I’ve inked up a fude pen to mess around with markmaking. Making me think about Correspondence Calligraphy, or differences in handwriting.
For the Correspondent characters: what makes your style stand out?
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lex-the-flex · 6 days
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Rally On
Art Donaldson x reader
Summary: Feeling confident as a wild card, Art feels that he can accomplish anything with you by his side. That is, his spirit nearly breaks once an old friend enters the sauna.
Word Count: 992
Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, (a healthy relationship) body appreciation, brief makeout session, slight mind manipulation and lying, cursing, a little nudity, mention of body health, and possessive and protective Art.
A/N: We’re so back bitches! I love Challengers to death and this movie lives rent free in my head. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!
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Lying inside the dark hotel room, the rustling winds outside settles, allowing the piercing sound of a phone alarm to echo in the calm bedroom. Bursting awake with a displeased groan, Art Donaldson checks the time, numb to the feeling. Sinking back into the duvet bedding, the faint light of the early morning peers through the thin curtains. 
Shifting beneath the comfortable bedding, Art’s quiet movements stir you awake. Sighing into the plush pillows, you begin to sit up, ready to conquer the day. But Art pulls you back into the bed, surrounding you in his arms. 
“You’re not going anywhere.” He teases. 
Fighting off the early morning grogginess, Art shifts his body onto yours, and covers you with a series of soft pepper kisses on your collarbones and neck. 
“Art, honey.” You whisper. 
“Hmm?” He replies. 
“We have to get up. You have a big game today.” You say, running your fingers through your husband's hair. 
“Fuck the game. I’d rather stay here and fuck you instead.” Art jokes, burying his head in your neck. 
Nestling between your legs, Art captures your lips in a passionate kiss, and presses his fingers against your underwear. Moaning at the feeling, the sound makes his ears tingle. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Art holds your arms above your head, holding you beneath him. 
“You know, if it were up to me, I’d keep you here. Forever, all mine.” He whispers into your skin before capturing your gaze. 
“You fiend. We have a game to win, you know.” You answer with a smirk. 
“As long as you’re there with me today, I know I can find you anywhere in the crowd.” Art announces. 
Touching your noses together, you nod at Art’s declaration. 
“I’ll always be with you, Art. We can accomplish anything through thick and thin, just as long as we’re together.” You reply. 
“Then that’s all I need.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. 
****
The hot steam from the sauna soothes every single lingering pressure and discomfort in Art’s body. From the uncomfortable itch on his left heel, to the surgery scars on his right shoulder, he truly felt at peace in the sauna. Placing a heated towel on his head, Art feels like he can finally relax. 
That is, until the door opens. 
“I could’ve sworn no one else booked the sauna today. Oh well, we’re all here for the same reason.” Art thinks to himself. 
Lowering the towel, the sight of Patrick nearly shakes Art to his core. 
“Patrick? What are you doing here?” Art asks, tossing the towel aside. 
Closing the door behind him, Patrick appears in the steam, smiling towards Art. 
“I’m here to play tennis. What else?” Patrick replies. 
Leaning in Art’s personal space, Patrick does his best to get a rose out of his friend, but it doesn’t happen. Much to his dismay, Art has no interest in giving Patrick what he wants: staring at and commenting on his dick out in the open. 
Sitting down across from Art, Patrick covers himself. 
“You know, it’s disturbing. What you’re doing. I know what you’re trying to do right now —“ Art starts, but is cut off. 
“Honestly, I thought you’d be happy to see me, and that I was in the draw. It’s the week before the Open, as in, the perfect confidence booster.” Patrick explains, proud of himself. 
Leaning back against the wall, Art folds his hands in his lap, unimpressed by his friends' motives. 
“Right. How could I forget? You don’t give a shit.” Art replies, done with this conversation. 
“I didn’t say that.” Patrick replies. 
“Whatever game you’re playing here, Patrick, it’s not going to work. Not this time. Y/N and I aren’t here to watch you fail. We’re here for me and nothing more.” Art explains, closing his eyes. 
“Oh really? Is that why Tashi said that? That the two of you are basically invincible without each other?” Patrick mocks. 
Art stares at Patrick for a moment, confused by his words, and only gets a cocky wink for an answer. 
“The fuck does that that mean?” Art asks. 
“Oh come on, Art! You know Y/N will never be as good as Tashi! Y/N’s just living vicariously through you and you know it! You just won’t admit it!” Patrick nearly shouts. 
Shaking his head, Art smiles at his friend’s bullshit, that he’s done. 
“You really want to know what I think, Patrick? I think it’s quite embarrassing that you’re here. Trying to challenge us, to continue fighting the ongoing war between the three of us. Honestly, I have no idea where it came from, but Y/N and I just want it to stop. The two of us have been the happiest in the longest time. So, your little mind games won’t work this time, not when Y/N has finally gotten back on her feet again.” Art clarifies. 
Glancing at Patrick, he has no idea what Art is talking about. 
“Don’t play dumb, Patrick. Since you haven’t been in our lives, Y/N and I are finally pregnant after two years of trying and a few miscarriages. And guess who was there to help and support her? Tashi. Tashi was there when you weren’t. She filled your spot at Y/N’s darkest and believe me, we’ve seen her at her darkest. She knows she won’t live up to Tashi’s reputation, but it doesn’t bother us. What matters is that Y/N is there for me, no matter what. And you want to know why? It’s what married people do. We don’t let the bullshit bother us, because it doesn’t.” Art continues, standing from his spot. 
Finally feeling superior to Patrick, Art takes the doorknob in his hand. 
“But for what it’s worth, we do miss playing with you, Y/N and I. Just without the competition.” Art states before leaving the sauna like a new man who’s found his calling.
tagging anyone who's interested ~
@dreamliners
@xplore-the-unknwn
@princessismx
@martiansodas-blog
@iholdwhatican
@veryberryjelly
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starkwlkr · 4 months
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Love your baby Leclerc series! ❤️ If you're into the idea, maybe you'd like to write about Charles' little girl being sick and him being all worried and taking care of her? 🥺
my baby | charles leclerc
note: i am not taking requests, i am just posting my drafts
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It started in the middle of the night when Ruby woke up Charles. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her with her bunny slippers on her cold feet. She stood beside Charles, who was snoring. She called his name several times, but he didn’t wake up so she tried poking his arm until he woke up. When that didn’t work, she remembered the story that she overheard the other day about something that Charles had shouted.
“Box! Box!” She raised her voice slightly.
It was like a trigger word for Charles that instantly brought bad memories and anxiety. The driver woke up immediately and saw that his daughter was standing in front of him.
“What time is it?” He wondered as he rubbed his tired eyes.
“I don’t know, but I’m hurting, papa.” Ruby whined.
“What’s wrong, my Ruby Jules?” Charles asked.
“My head is hurting and I’m cold.” She whispered.
Charles pressed his hand against Ruby’s forehead and felt it warm. She was getting a fever and you weren’t home. You were on a trip with Mathéo to your home country to visit your parents. Ruby had school so Charles stayed behind since he had a break from racing.
“You wanna sleep beside papa? I’ll get some medicine so you can feel better.” Charles uncovered himself and stood up from his bed . He took Ruby into his arms and laid her onto his bed then covered her with the blanket.
“Papa, Floppy is alone in my room! He doesn’t like being alone!” Ruby gasped.
“I’ll go get Floppy, just stay here.” Charles said then kissed Ruby’s warm forehead. His first stop was to get medicine from the cabinet in kitchen. He read the directions on the bottle then grabbed a spoon. His next stop was Ruby’s bedroom where he retrieved his daughter’s favorite stuffed bunny named Floppy.
“Floppy!” Ruby called out as Charles made his way back into his room. He carefully set the bunny on the bed for her to grab.
“Time for your medicine, mon amour,” he sat on the edge of the bed as he started to open the bottle of medicine.
“I don’t want that.” Ruby used Floppy to hide her face.
“Ruby Jules, if you want to get better, you have to drink your medicine.” Charles said. Ruby hesitated, but sat up so she could drink from the spoon filled with medicine that her papa had poured.
“Does it taste like candy?” She asked.
“I don’t know, how about you taste it and then tell me.”
So she did, but instantly realized that it did not taste like candy.
“Yuck!” She made a face at her papa wondering why he even bought that disgusting liquid into the house.
“Okay, you did good. Scoot, your papa wants some cuddles.” Charles got under the covers then brought Ruby closer to him.
Morning came and Ruby was still sick. She had a stuffy nose and her fever had gotten worse. She didn’t even feel like getting out of Charles’ bed so when it was breakfast time, he brought a plate of pancakes and fruit to her.
“Papa, it hurts.” Ruby groaned as she hugged Floppy. Charles was starting to question if he should take her to the emergency room. He had texted you early in the morning about Ruby’s condition. You replied that you would get on the next flight to Monaco, but he assured you that he could handle it.
At least he thought he could.
“I know, Ruby, I know,” Charles placed a kiss on her cheek. “You know, grand-mére told me that taking a bath makes you feel better. I’m going to fill the bath, okay?”
“Can you put bubbles and the toys?” She mumbled weakly.
“Anything for you.”
After getting the bath ready with bubbles and toys, Ruby got in. The water made her feel slightly better, but blowing bubbles and playing with rubber ducks with her papa made her smile ten times more.
“Hello mister duck, you look nice today!” Charles tried doing different voices for each duck. “Thank you, little duck!”
“The ducks should have names, papa.” Ruby said.
“You’re right, what should the ducks be called?” Charles asked.
“This one is called Arthur and this one Lorenzo.” Ruby laughed as she pointed to the two ducks that Charles had in his hands.
“I guess that just leaves Charles the duck.” The Ferrari driver grabbed the third duck that was floating in the bubbly water.
“No, papa! His name is Floppy two.” Ruby grabbed the duck from Charles’ hands and played with it.
“Floppy two . . . I guess he can be called that.”
When bath time came to an end, Charles let Ruby get dressed by herself, something she always wanted to do. As Ruby got dressed in her room, Charles prepared dinner for them. Before he could finish the mac and cheese for his daughter, the doorbell rang.
He walked to the front door and opened it revealing his brothers Lorenzo and Arthur, along with Lorenzo’s girlfriend, Charlotte. “Where is my favorite niece?” Arthur asked.
“Hello, Arthur, it’s so nice to see you. I’m doing good, thanks for asking.” Charles rolled his eyes as he let his family in.
“How is Ruby?” Lorenzo asked.
“She’s better. She just took a bath, that definitely helped a lot.” Charles explained.
“Papa! I can’t put my shoe on!” The Leclerc heard Ruby shout. She walked down the stairs with a pink tutu, purple leggings, a Barbie shirt and one shoe on while she held the other in her left hand.
“Interesting choice of clothing, Ruby.” Arthur laughed.
“It’s called fashion and Ruby is a pro at it, Arthur!” Charlotte playfully hit Arthur’s arm. “I’ll help you, Ruby, come on.” Charlotte led the little girl to the living room.
“Yeah, Arthur, it’s called fashion!” Ruby sassed.
Arthur cringed. “She just called me Arthur.”
“That’s your name.” Lorenzo replied.
“Yeah, but she’s my niece. It’s weird hearing it from her.”
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kitten4sannie · 6 months
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ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ
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pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader
genre: smut <3
summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.
w.c: 3.3k
warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing
a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33
song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)
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“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”
“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”
She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”
You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”
“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.
“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.
“Where are you going?”
Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”
The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.
-
“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.
San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.
Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”
Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.
You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.
“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.
He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.
Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.
“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.
You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”
Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”
“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”
“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”
One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.
As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.
“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”
You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.
San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”
Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”
Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”
And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”
“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.
“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”
“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.
Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”
“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”
“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.
However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”
Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.
-
“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”
“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.
“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”
“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”
“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.
“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”
“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”
You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.
“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.
Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.
“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”
Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.
Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”
Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.
“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”
San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”
Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.
San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”
“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.
“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.
Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.
Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.
San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.
Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.
“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.
Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
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eddiesghxst · 5 months
Text
❆ Let It Snow - a christmas smutty special ❆
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happy holidays lovelys!!! ilysm and i hope you all have a beautiful rest of your year, here is a cute n quick little Christmas smutty blurb as my gift to u <3
also, this is not proofread i apologize for any mistakes <3
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: roomate!eddie munson x reader
summary: your flight home gets canceled on christmas eve and Eddie just wants to cheer you up
contains: friends to lovers trope, reader loves christmas (she's so me), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected - be smart pls), creampie, lots of Christmas cheer, and eddie being the cutest most kindest boy there ever was <3
word count: 3.6k
-masterlist-
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Christmas is ruined.
It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve been rotting away in your room all day— it’s now almost six in the afternoon— and Christmas is ruined.
In the corner of your room, your bags lay in a pile, packed and ready to go for the flight home you were supposed to be on just less than an hour ago. Your mother was devastated when you called her to break the news that you wouldn’t be home in time for Christmas, and although she tried her hardest to mask it over the phone, acting was never really her niche.
You’d already cried once this morning, a pathetic sob that inevitably escaped the second you opened your blinds and saw the blinding-white thick blanket of snow covering Hawkins. It’s not common, heavy winter snows in Indiana, so when the news mentioned that there would be a chance of snow, you didn’t think much of it.
Wrong choice.
You should’ve changed your ticket immediately and got on the next plane to Oregon, where your family would be with warm laughter and endless amounts of food, not to mention the traditional tree lighting you’d miss out on. But now, you’re stuck in Hawkins, chest hollow and cold from the undeniable fact that you will miss Christmas with your family this year.
Suddenly, you hear a raspy curse from the other side of your wall, followed by haste movements and the rustling of sheets and clothes. Eddie’s finally up from his nap. You can’t wait to tell him how stupid you’d been to book a flight so late on Christmas Eve.
Before you can even think of getting up and going to Eddie’s room, the man bursts through your door with a frazzled look as his gaze darts around the room, “Why didn’t you wake me? You’re gonna be late for your flight!” He panics. It’s sweet, really. The way your roommate paces over to your bags and looks at you with a ‘Why aren’t these in the car yet?’ look. It almost makes you hopeful that somehow, now that Eddie’s bright and sunny self is awake, he can find a way to get you home just in time for Christmas.
Obviously, it's not happening, considering Eddie isn’t a god, but one can dream.
You groan, tossing over in your bed to burrow your face deep into your sheets as you mumble into the soft cotton, “I’m not going anymore.” You grumble.
You can hear Eddie’s frown when he responds, “What? What do you mean you’re not going?”
You huff, heart aching as you reply, “Have you looked outside by any chance?”
You don’t turn to watch, but you can hear the shuffling sound of Eddie walking over to your window, shucking the blinds open, and peering out into the parking lot of your apartment that’s covered in that godawful snow. Eddie lets out a sound, something between surprise and sympathy, and it only makes the frown on your face deepen.
“Well… shit,” Eddie says.
You turn over and sit up, huffing as you shove your sheets out of your way, “Yeah. Have fun trying to figure out a way to get me across the country with that type of weather.” You grunt, kicking your legs over the side of your bed to stand and shuffle over to the packed suitcases. You figure you may as well unpack since you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.
“So when are the airports gonna clear, did they say?” Eddie asks.
You huff as you unfold jeans and tops, mind reeling with scenarios of what you should’ve done to prevent this. “Not until tomorrow afternoon. Christmas will be done by then, and most of my family will be back in their respective homes, so… looks like you’re stuck with me, Munson.”
Which, sure Eddie practically threw a fit when you told him you’d be out of town for the holidays, but you still feel as if you’re intruding. Eddie was supposed to have Wayne come over tomorrow, but you’re going to be here probably sulking, and it’ll be awkward and pitiful, and it’s just not at all what you’d wanted your or Eddie’s Christmas to be like! 
“...Okay, well,” Before you can fully register what’s happening, Eddie is closing your suitcase and grabbing your hands, dragging you up to your feet and ignoring your confusion as he speaks, “You can’t spend Christmas like this, sweetheart. You’ll end up like the Grinch. Do you wanna be the Grinch? Don’t tell me you wanna be the Grinch.” Eddie rambles as he drags you out of your room.
You try to fight a smile at Eddie’s rapid fire of words, but you fail as you shake your head, “No, I don’t want to be the Grinch, asshole.” You grumble as he drops your hand.
Eddie drops your hand and claps loudly, a bright grin spreading over his lips when he turns to you, “Wonderful! Then we have to get in the Christmas spirit.”
Eddie leaves you confused in the small hallway of your shared apartment, watching as he chaoticly prances over to the kitchen. He slows down and turns back to you once he sees you’re not following him, a confused expression painting over his face. “Well? Are you gonna leave me to bake alone, or are you gonna join?”
And well, you’ve never seen Eddie even pick up a baking pan, so it’s safe to say this will be interesting.
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Eddie is absolutely terrible with ingredients. 
You and Eddie both decided to bake cookies, but instead of regular chocolate chips, Eddie pitched in the idea of using red and green M&Ms for the holiday effect, which you thought was pretty clever. The only problem is Eddie can’t measure for shit.
The recipe calls for two tablespoons of cornstarch, Eddie two and a half— damn near three. The next step says to mix in a third of a cup of cooking oil, but Eddie puts in much too little. It’s odd, considering his past with drug dealing, but you don’t mention it and instead opt to discreetly correct his mistakes whenever he turns his back to grab something else.
You both end up covered in flour because the pesky powder honestly just doesn't under the concept of gravity, and you laugh when you see some coating Eddie’s eyelashes. “What’s so funny, chef?” He asks.
You smile, “Nothing, you’ve just got… you got some on your eyes.” You reach up with a gentle hand, the sleeves of your sweater long enough to pull over your thumb so you can carefully dust off the white powder.
Eddie’s eyes are so bright and attentive this close, watching your every move with a type of sincerity you’ve only ever seen on screens from Grammy-nominated films and such. It makes your chest warm, and your knees quiver as his lips split into a smile, “Thank you, princess.” He softly says. You nod, and you swear Eddie’s eyes fucking twinkle.
You clear your throat, blinking away and stepping back to clear whatever trance from your mind, “Well,” You heavily sigh, “The cookies are in the oven for the next hour, so… I think I’m gonna go read.”
“Actually,” Eddie pipes up, softly reaching out and letting his fingers brush against yours, “I was thinking we could watch a Christmas movie. Unless if you’re sick of me, I totally get it; I’ll call you when the cookies are ready.”
Which couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t want to read. Hell, you don’t even have a new book to read; you’ve gone through your entire reading list.
“Oh! Well, what movie did you have in mind?”
“Home Alone. Obviously.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re a Christmas amateur, Eddie, did you know that?”
Eddie waves a dismissive hand as you begin to smile, reaching out to spin you around and shove you toward your room, “Just go get in some comfy clothes.”
You snort as you follow his instructions, shuffling over to your room to change out of your flour-coated clothing. It takes you some time to dig through your suitcase, but you eventually find the cute pajama set you bought for the holidays and slip it on, eager to return to the living room and join Eddie.
When you step into the living room, you don’t expect to see furniture pushed out of the way and Eddie standing in the middle as he pushes his queen-sized mattress down to lie right in the middle of the room—your heart races when you realize what Eddie’s done.
“Eddie, what are you doing?” You softly ask.
Eddie looks up at you, heavily breathing as he places his hands on his hips, “It’s Christmas Eve!” He beams. You tilt your head with a scolding expression, “I remember you saying you did this with your family, so I figured we gotta keep the tradition going.” He shrugs.
And god, Eddie’s so lovely. Too nice for his own good, really. Your entire body warms at the gesture, watching as he bustles around the apartment, grabbing blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest-like bed.
Seeing Eddie prepare the room wasn’t confusing because you kind of figured that’s what he was doing when you initially saw it, but you became concerned when you saw him drag a tall fake plant across the room.
Eddie steps back and gazes at the fake plant, face twisted in concentration, “Where should it go? The corner, right?” He turns to you. Your brows scrunch in confusion, “Uh… you’re losing me.”
Eddie blinks at you as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue, “The Christmas tree, doll. Where should it go?”
You raise an eyebrow, “That’s not a Christmas tree, Eddie, that’s a fake Cat Palm.” Eddie makes a face as if you’ve insulted him, “Says who?”
“Says anyone with general knowledge of the world.” “Why can’t this tree be a Christmas tree? As far as I know, they both have the same qualities that allow them to classify as a tree.” And you’re not going to argue with Eddie on that because he’s being sweet, and you’re interested to see what wacky plan he’s concocted in that brain of his.
So, for the next hour or so, you and Eddie sit on his comfy bed in the living room and use copy paper to cut out shitty snowflakes to put on the ‘Christmas tree’ as you watch Home Alone.
It’s undeniably the most fun you’ve had in a while, and you and Eddie turn your craft into a competition to see who can make the best snowflake, but you keep snipping the wrong spots to create an absolute disgrace of a snowflake. Eddie thinks they’re ‘fucking insane. In a good way!’ though, so you can’t complain.
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“These are fucking awful.”
Home Alone 2 is playing, the Christmas tree is fully decorated, and you and Eddie have settled in his bed with a plate full of cookies. It’s a cozy little setup you’ve got, and your cheeks are warm from laughter, and you’ve never felt this content with anyone besides family. And to make matters even better, the cookies taste like absolute shit.
You look at Eddie, gazing at his horrified expression momentarily before bursting into a snort. Eddie looks at you, terror written across his face as you fold in laughter. 
“These are seriously the worst cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He reiterates. 
You manage to calm your laughter down just enough to respond, “They’re not that bad.” 
You and Eddie share a look before you burst into laughter again, “Yeah, they’re pretty bad.” You admit. Eddie joins you in laughter, shaking his head as he offers you the plate of cookies so you can put your half-bitten cookie away. “Remind me to never enter a bake-off,” Eddie grumbles as he reaches over to set the cookies on the coffee table pushed off to the side.
You and Eddie settle into his cozy bed then, content on holiday cheer and the comforting presence of one another. You’re pressed close to each other so you can share the bowl of popcorn you’d made, and you try to ignore how the close proximity makes your insides squeal. You glance at Eddie as you roll an unpopped kernel between your fingers.
“Thank you.”
Eddie turns to you, eyebrows raised in alert. You gesture to the atmosphere of your apartment, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to do any of this.” 
Eddie makes a face and waves you off, “It’s nothing, princess. Couldn’t have you sad on your favorite holiday of the year.”
Your cheeks warm as you gaze at Eddie, chest feeling so much appreciation for his efforts today. Eddie didn’t have to do any of this. He could’ve just said sorry for your shit luck and called it a day, but he took it upon himself to make your ruined holiday into, arguably, one of the best Christmas you’ve had in a while.
“I mean, come on, you heard how badly I was begging you to stay home anyway. Some might even say I got Mother Nature to ring in a favor.” He jokes as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes, briefly returning to the movie as you respond, “You’re dramatic, Eddie. I was gonna be gone for two days.” You point out.
“Two days too long!” He stresses, “What was I supposed to do while you were gone?”
You snort, tossing popcorn in your mouth before speaking, “You were gonna be with Wayne anyway; you’d hardly even think about me.” You wave.
Eddie makes a displeased noise, poking at the popcorn in the bowl, “That’s not true.” He softly responds. You glance at Eddie, heart racing when he locks eyes with you. “Wayne isn’t half as pretty as you, so.” He jokes, a small smile spreading across his lips.
You shyly smile, “You think I’m pretty?” You tease.
Eddie smiles with his eyes, “I think you’re gorgeous, actually.”
And god, you think you imagine it when Eddie’s gaze falls to your lips, but then he’s reaching out to gently drag his thumb across your bottom lip. You lean into him on instinct, body aching for his touch, lips crying out to feel his lips on yours, and thankfully, Eddie doesn’t make you wait long before leaning forward.
Eddie’s lips are soft and perfect for kissing. Plump and addicting to the touch as he moves in tandem with you, hands gently caressing your face as you press into each other. You can’t contain the whine bubbling in your throat, and you almost feel embarrassed, but Eddie responds with a moan, hands moving south to softly grab your waist and pull you closer.
You almost can’t believe this is happening— you making out with your roommate on Christmas Eve— but you figure it was about time that you two shattered the thick wall of tension and desire that’d been building between you both. Stolen glances and lingering touches in the kitchen, too-close dancing at parties, and almost kisses during goodbyes have all led to this very moment as Eddie shifts to lay you back into the mountain of pillows.
You shakily breathe against Eddie’s lips when his fingers dust across your stomach, softly pressing into your warm skin to pull a squeal from your lips. You can feel the spread of his smile against the corner of our mouth, and you squirm as he peppers a few kisses there, “Gonna let me taste you, princess?” He asks, fingers caressing the skin just above the waistband of your festive shorts. You swallow heavily and nod, eyes dancing with his when he leans back just enough to see your face. “Words?”
“Yeah. Yes, please.”
Your voice hardly even sounds like your own. Needy and higher pitched and almost humiliating, but Eddie’s smattering kisses down your chin and neck, hands riding your shirt up your stomach so he can kiss the warm skin there. You softly exhale, reaching up to sink your fingers through his hair and gently tug. He groans against you, softly nipping the fat of your hip as his fingers curl over the band of your shorts. He drags the pants down your legs, sitting up to take them off and toss them to the side. He parts your thighs, a smug grin spreading across his lips as he gazes down at you, your socked feet digging into the sheets as he runs his ringed hands up your legs. “Stop staring.” You grumble.
Eddie chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your stomach and then the band of your panties, “Candy canes, huh?” He peers up at you as he plays with the tiny bow on your pelvis. Your face warms, center throbbing as you squirm beneath him. “Hey,” You frown, “It was a matching set and I thought they were cute.” You explain, nudging him with your foot. Which is true, the set came with a bra, panties, and socks, and it was on sale, so of course you bought it.
Eddie laughs as he settles on his stomach, “Oh, you’re fuckin’ precious,” He beams to himself. Your chest warms, and he leans forward to kiss just over your covered clit, “I love them, sweetheart.” Another kiss pressed to your hip this time. “I love them a lot, actually.” A kiss to the other hip, and you squirm. His lashes flutter when he peers up at you, fingers squeezing your hips as he speaks, “Unfortunately… they’re kind of in the way.”
You playfully roll your eyes, losing the fight to your smile as you respond, “Just take them off, Eddie.”
Eddie’s eyes light up, hands moving quicker than you’ve ever seen to get rid of the candy cane printed barrier, happily settling back on his stomach and curling his hands around your thighs to pull you closer. He doesn’t give you any warning when he dives in, licking a thick and wet line from your entrance to your clit. He circles the tip of his tongue over your clit, grinning when you moan and twitch from the sensation. He hums as he suckles your clit into his mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depends on it, fingers squeezing at your thighs and hips. You’re drowning in pleasure, but you think you can hear the muffled sound of Eddie mumbling, ‘Fuck, you taste so good’ against you, and it makes your head spin.
You’re a goner when he sinks two fingers into you, expertly curling up against that toe-curling spot to have you crying out his name and arching up into him. He hums against you, nodding his head in encouragement as you cum on his tongue.
You’re blinking through a pleasure-filled haze when Eddie kisses up your body, sticky lips smearing wet pecks across your stomach as he pushes your shirt further up.
You help each other undress the rest of the way, your limbs shaky and clumsy from your orgasm, and Eddie chuckles but kisses you when you glare at him. Your hand wraps around his cock, but Eddie shakes his head, grasping your wrist as he pushes you back into his bed, “I can’t wait. Next time, yeah? Need you now.”
You wouldn’t dream of saying no.
The stretch of Eddie is so much yet so good. It burns, and it takes your breath away, but it sends chills up your back with the heavenly sensation as he presses into you, balls pressing against your ass as he leans over you and moans against your lips. “F–fuck. Jesus, you feel so fucking good.” 
You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing your body into him. “Please, Eddie. Please fuck me, please.”
“Yeah,” He gently coos as he pulls out. He pushes back in, watching as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in ecstasy, and he hums, “There we go. Taking me so well, baby. Gonna give it all to you— h-holy shit.”
He builds his pace slowly but surely, and you’re so embarrassingly close by the time he’s steadily pumping into you, the loud sound of your sex echoing between your bodies in tandem with your moans. 
You moan, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as you breathe him in, digging your face into his neck and finding solace in the curtain of his curly strands as he holds you close. Eddie groans when you throb around his aching cock, and he nods, “Give it to me. Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.” He gently encourages you, a warm hand pressing into your back as he kisses your neck. You don’t know if you could get any closer, your chests pressed together, skin sticky with sweat as you grind against one another.
You tip over the edge quicker than you’d want to because you want this to last forever, but Eddie coos and holds you through it all, and you feel like you’re floating through clouds of stardust with Eddie kissing you and thrusting into you.
You’re out of it when Eddie cums. So far gone and high on pleasure that all you can do is moan and nuzzle into his neck to kiss and lick and bite as he empties himself into your pulsing cunt.
You’re both breathing heavily, Eddie collapsing against you but holding himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush you. You’re both silent as you catch your breath, softly running your fingers through Eddie’s hair as the ending credits to Home Alone 2 roll. Against the skin of your neck, you feel Eddie’s lips spread into a sleepy smile, and you can’t help but smile as well as you speak, “What?” You softly ask.
Eddie breathes, shifting so he can nuzzle his face further into your neck, breathing in the scent of you and sex.
“Nothing, just… I’m so fucking glad it snowed.”
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alienbycomics · 8 months
Text
Ready to Stand: A comic retelling The Little Mermaid with a twist 🏳️‍⚧️
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[Begin image description- Comic with 10 panels inspired by Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Comic title: “Ready to Stand” by Alienby comics.
Panel 1: Ariel, a mermaid, holds a dress up in front of her and looks into a mirror longingly. Ariel’s flat chest covered in scales and gills makes her gender ambiguous. Ariel is in her underwater cave surrounded by trinkets from the human world. Ariel’s voice over: “Maybe Father’s right. Maybe there is something wrong with me.”
Panel 2: Ariel leans on a rock on the surface of the water, looking hopefully at 2 human women walking along the beach in the distance. Ariel’s voice over: “But I want this more than anything.”
Panel 3: Ariel is seen swimming away from her home in a shadowy nook, looking back at her father and sisters, who are laughing together. She is sad to leave them. Ariel’s voice over speaking to Ursula: “So you can really turn me into a human?”
Panel 4: Ariel approaches Ursula the Sea Witch in Ursula’s lair pleadingly. Ursula speaks to Ariel over her shoulder. Ursula answers: “I can. You’re not the first, honey. Life down here is so drab, isn’t it?” Ariel replies: “Yes. I don’t belong here. Please help me.”
Panel 5: Ariel and Ursula’s conversation continues as we see a flashback of Ariel’s father Triton, who has angrily destroyed Ariel’s trinkets from the human world with his magic. Triton holds Ariel by the arm in one hand and holds her dress, which is now in shambles, in his other hand. Ursula’s voice over: “What do you have to offer me?” Ariel’s voice over: “I have… well, I had a trove of treasures until my father…” Ariel trails off. Ursula’s voice over: “How about your voice?”
Panel 6: Ariel looks over her shoulder back at Ursula. Ursula appears more devilish now and lurks in the shadows behind her. Ariel asks: “My voice?” Ursula replies: “You can’t get something for nothing, kid. Your voice for your legs. Do we have a deal?”
Panel 7: Ariel and Ursula now are at opposite sides of a bubbling purple cauldron, full of a potion that will make Ariel human. Ursula holds a vial of this potion out to Ariel. Ariel’s fists are clenched and her face is poised in resolve. Ariel simply says, “okay.” Ursula warns Ariel: “But the transformation will be painful, and you can never return home. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Panel 8: The comic cuts to after Ariel’s transformation. She breaks the surface of the ocean and takes a sharp breath of air. She no longer has gills or scales, and she now has noticeable human breasts with seashell coverings. Ariel’s inner monologue voice over: “Air in my lungs…”
Panel 9: Ariel is seen in 2 poses. The first pose shows Ariel sitting in the shallow water on the beach, admiring one of her feet on her brand new legs. She has a huge smile on her face. The second pose shows Ariel trying to stand, now wearing a skirt made from a piece of canvas from nearby ship debris. Ariel teeters and falls over with a chibi-like expression that exaggerates her panic. Ariel’s inner monologue voice over continues: “Sand between my toes, the warm sun on my soft skin…”
Panel 10: Ariel blissfully but silently laughs while laying in the warm sand on the beach. Her arms and new legs are sprawled out in relaxation. Ariel’s inner monologue concludes: “Now I’m home.” / End image description]
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xxsunoosprincess · 3 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a request of Enha legal line with a virgin S/O and how they would have sex with them the first time? Thank you so much if you answer 💕!!
ofc cutie!! such a sweet request, I’m happy to write this :3 fair warning, I feel like I got a lil nasty on a couple of these…
Enhypen’s first time with their virgin s/o (OT6)
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pairings: enhypen legal line x reader
warnings: 18+, minors dni, reader has fem genitalia, pussy job, corruption kink, a bit of awkwardness and reassurance
Heeseung
“Just the tip” ass mfer. Wants to make sure you are enjoying yourself and are sufficiently soaked so it doesn’t hurt. Keeps your cute pink panties on while rutting his cockhead against your covered folds. When you beg him to do more, he pulls your now soaked panties to the side to expose your glistening pussy. Moans so loud when you gasp at the exposure to the cold air.
Continues to fuck himself against your cunt, leaking head nudging your sensitive little clit. “You ready, love? I’ll just… I’ll just put a little bit in, okay?” as he pants above you. Keeps good on his promise, fucking you on just the first couple inches of his dick until you are creaming all over him.
Jay
He… heheheheh he’s sick in the head. His cock fills out immediately when you tell him you are a virgin, all shy and blushing underneath him. Jay considered himself above typical boyish desires, but this. Fuck. “It’s okay baby, I’ll be gentle with you.”
Knowing that he’s the first to see you like this. He’s the first to see your cunt up close. He’s the first to kiss the whines out of your mouth telling you to quiet down before the boys hear you. His cock is the first to feel the warm insides of your pussy. He has to hold back from fucking you immediately, both for your sake and because he thinks he is going to bust the moment he slips in.
Jake
I know a lot of people say Jake is a fuck boy, but lowkey I think he is a virgin too. He can’t help that he is a flirt! He always leave you blushing, so imagine how shocked you are when he finally gets you into bed, shaking hands caressing you, and he blushes when you whisper out “Jakey… you’ll have to tell me how, it’s my first time”.
He counters with wide eyes and a punched out “I’ll try but umm… it’s my first time too.” Really eases a lot of nerves both of you are emitting, knowing that you are both going into this on the same page. Sexual tension isn’t fragile, and I think that stays true for y’all, lots of embarrassed chuckles and quick finishes. It’s a lovely, memorable night <3
Sunghoon
Definitely plans it out, maybe more nervous than you are. Once he has the knowledge that you plan on giving your virginity to him, he gets crazy. Surprisingly, not in a horny way but in a neurotic ‘I don’t know what to do’ way. He just really wants to make this special for you. Picks out a date, wines and dines you, but hasn’t thought through what to do when he actually has you laid out in front of him.
He sits on his knees between your spread legs, back propped up with the fluffiest pillows he could find. His fingers barely graze your calf before he pulls back as if he was burned. You might be offended by it if you couldn’t see the clear concern in his eyes. “Hoonie, it’s okay. I want this. I want you.” is the magic words to get him to break from where he was frozen in his spot, surging forward to kiss you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be weird. You are just so special to me, I don’t want to mess this up.” Maybe doesn’t fuck you tonight, but you guys get much more comfortable with eachother.
Sunoo
Appears calm on the surface but if you look close you can hear the shake in his voice and the tears welling up in his eyes. So honored that you trust him with something like this. Even if it’s not a big deal to you, it is to him. Sunoo is all tender touches and soft kisses.
However, he is still a man. Once you give him the go ahead, his hips are jack-rabbiting into yours. It’s in missionary, short and powerful thrusts punching out little “hah, hah, hah”s with each movement. Never stops kissing you. Slows down with sensual rocks of his hips, holding you tightly. Smiling and professing his love for you, completely pussy drunk and it’s your first time together <3 maybe this is just me self inserting, but you both definitely cry as you cum together.
Jungwon
I think wonie might also be a virgin. He’s been so focused on his career and practicing, that he never had time to explore himself. Honestly, I don’t think his sex drive was that high, so when you came into his life he was shocked. Jungwon has never jerked off so much in his life. Every night he is whining and trashing in his sheets thinking about you, feels like such a pervert but he can’t help it.
When there is finally enough time in both of your schedules he takes you straight to bed! Makes sure to finger you and eat you out and make you cum three times before he even gets his dick close to your pussy… he has been fantasizing about this so much he knows he will bust immediately. Has to make sure his girl is just as satisfied as he is by the time he finishes.
END.
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a/n: uptick in virgin content on my page recently… what does that mean. xx - princess
tag list: @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (dm or fill out form in navigation to be added)
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
Text
just tonight pt 2
summary: you and chris are forced to discuss moments of your past when the night before changes everything part 1
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I woke up with the sun shining far too brightly through the partly closed curtains. The hotel room air conditioner hummed as a chill overtook the room. I tried to pull the covers over me, but I struggled, dead weight on top of them.
I turned over my shoulder, finding Chris, knocked out. His lips were parted slightly, the slightest snore leaving his mouth. I would normally find this annoying, but he looks so peaceful. His curls are messy, flopping across his forehead, some strands holding a tighter curl than others. I want to play with them while he sleeps like this. 
His body rises a little bit through every breath. I’m in a trance, watching his movements. I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring, but it’s long enough for him to feel my stare burning into him.
His eyes open slowly, barely, before he shuts them again, closing his mouth and humming. “Good morning.”
His low morning voice sends chills down my spine in the best way. I mumble, “Morning,” in response, the events of last night playing on repeat in my head. 
He gives me a soft smile before lifting his head weakly, making his fatigue known. He places it carefully in my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw before I feel his eyes shut, his lashes fluttering against my cheek. 
I can’t stop myself from wondering if we made a mistake. It was just a kiss, and it doesn’t have to happen again. We don’t have to take it further. 
But right now I feel our hearts beating against each other and all I’m thinking about is how great it would be to wake up like this every day. 
We lay alone with our thoughts until Chris’ phone rings, a call from Nick. He sits up straight, his back on display as the duvet cover lays across his lap. 
“How fast can you get dressed?” Chris asks me, stepping out of the bed.
I do the same, assuming we’re in a rush. “I won’t take long, why?”
He digs around in his suitcase, pulling a graphic tee out and pulling it over himself. “Breakfast closes soon downstairs, and you’re in all my stuff. The boxers only make this look worse.”
I lower my gaze to my bottoms - a pair of his underwear. They hang lower on my hips due to my sleep, and Chris’ eyes can’t move them away. 
“Yeah,” I nod. “You’re right.”
The morning goes on with me and Chris back with Nick and Matt. Things have unfortunately gone back to exactly how they were before this trip. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I don’t know why I thought things would be different, but I would be a complete idiot to think that Chris would ever not treat me like shit. 
“I was looking around at places we could take pictures later today if you guys are down,” I suggest.
As Nick peeks over at my phone, a groan leaves Chris’ mouth. One full of disgust. Nick gives him a look and asks, “What’s your problem?”
“The less time I have to spend with her, the better,” he comments. “I’m miserable enough having to watch her while I eat, not to mention having to sleep in the same room.”
“Well, at least this way you can prove to Santa that you’re not a naughty guy after all and you can be moved to the nice list,” Matt teases, trying to break the tension at the table. 
I’m embarrassed at how my mood has been ruined because of Chris. Ten minutes ago he was curled in my arms, kissing my jaw softly, and now he won’t look at me. 
The worst part is, even when we’re alone in the car, or alone in public, he still won’t look at me. 
I can understand him trying to keep things ‘normal,’ whatever that means for us, in front of his brothers. But for him to completely ignore me and blow me off when we’re alone is uncalled for. We still have yet to talk about what happened last night, no matter how many times I have wanted to bring it up. The first step is getting his attention, but he has no intention of letting that happen. 
When the day ends and we all head to our rooms, I silently get myself ready for bed, ignoring him, just as he did to me. 
As I’m standing in the mirror removing my makeup, Chris comes up behind me, leaning against the wall as he watches me. 
“Can I help you?” I ask with a snappy tone, trying to set him off just as he was doing to me for hours today. 
He sinches his eyebrows together, like he can’t believe I would ask that. “Something wrong?”
I scoff. “You tell me.”
I finish up in the bathroom and walk back out to the bedroom. Without realizing what I’m doing, I scoop up my belongings, stuffing them into bags and hooking the straps on my arms. 
His eyes go wide as he races over to me. “What are you doing?”
“Getting another room.”
“No,” he stops me, or tries to at least. He makes an attempt to pull the bag off my arms, but I yank it back.
“Get off of me.”
“What are you doing?” he asks again. 
“I’m not staying in here with you,” I say simply. 
“Why not?”
“You know why!” I shout. I have this feeling in my throat like I’m going to crumble any second. I feel betrayed, taken advantage of, used. I feel awful. Why is he doing this to me? 
“I’m sorry,” he says, doe eyed. “Please, stay here with me. We can talk, we can kiss again or–”
“No, Chris!”
He takes a step back, defeat lingering around him. “I don’t know what I did,” he says softly. 
I head towards the door. “Then you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Do you think I want to act that way in front of everyone?” he fights back. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted things to be different? I’ve thought every day about how we could change things. I would change things if you’d let me, but I was never what you wanted. You pushed me away time and time again, and the only way for me to get over you was maintaining what we did have. We had a light hearted, teasing relationship, and whenever I threw something back at you, you threw it back with ten times more baggage.”
“So this is my fault?” I challenge his claims. “You’re using that excuse to let yourself believe that ignoring me all day as if you weren’t in my arms this morning was justified?”
“Please,” he mumbles. “Put your bags down.”
He looks at me like he’s on the verge of exploding. Like the dam is seconds from breaking. Like he needs me.
I toss my shit on the floor and stand in front of him, waiting. 
“None of this is your fault,” he promises. “None of it. I shouldn’t have treated you like this today, but after last night, I didn’t know how to be around you and them and act like I wasn’t daydreaming about you laying with me all night. I kept picturing you in my lap, kissing me. I wanted it all day. I wanted you. Every time I think I have you, you’re gone.”
I’ve never left him. His brothers are my best friends. Even when Chris is a dickhead, I still love him. I would never want anything but good things for him. 
“I would never leave you guys, Chris.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Chris, we used to be closer than anyone,” I remind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to be your friend anymore in the way we were. You won’t let me be that for you anymore.”
“I do,” he insists. “Please, just hear me out. Don’t go anywhere.”
I let out a sigh at his desperation. Before I know it, he’s leading me to the bed.
“Prom senior year,” he starts. “Your date didn’t show up.”
He promised he wouldn’t mention that again.
“Chris–”
“It was Nate’s idea,” he interrupts me. “He told me to step in, and I finally had the balls to. I was running down the street to the store in a fucking tux. I ran in and got you flowers, and when I came back you were gone. Everyone was gone.”
My heart drops. No one ever told me why he was late to prom that day. No one told me he was making an effort for me. Everything would have been different. 
“You were gonna take me to prom?”
He swallows harshly as he nods, like he’s partly embarrassed for letting me know he failed, but that he’s proud of himself for trying.
“A few weeks later you came running into my room with the biggest smile on your face. You pulled my headset off while I was playing a game and made me guess why you were so giddy. I couldn’t guess, and you told me he asked you to be his girlfriend. The same guy that made you cry because he stood you up at prom, you were now his girlfriend. I felt like fucking shit. I tried to clean up the mess he made that night, and when I failed, he still won you? How was that fair?” he asks me. 
I don’t have any answers for him. 
“Then you spent the whole relationship telling me how awful he was,” he reminds me. “I was obviously going to be there for you if you needed me, but any time we were together, I had to pretend like I wasn’t interested. I had to try to respect your relationship with him, even though I hated him for making you miserable. I hated watching your smile fade and I hated that it was because of him. I did everything I could to cheer you up, and it worked, you know it did, but when you guys broke up, I thought it was my chance. You had no interest in me. It was so obvious. I just lost any hope of there being a chance with us, and the only way for me to get over that was to push you away.”
His words pour out of his mouth in a deep confession. Memories of us come flooding back into me like it was yesterday. Every look he gave me, every touch, every word shared.It’s all there. 
I can’t help but hate my ex even more for keeping Chris from me. 
I’m not mad at Chris anymore, but the frustration coursing through my veins masks my confusion for anger. And I aim it at the wrong person.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I thought you knew!” he shouts. 
We both stand in silence, staring at each other as our chests heave, trying to regain our composure. 
I shake my head, completely in shock at his confession. I used to cry to Nick, wondering why his brother was so mean to me after everything we shared together. He went from being the most important person to me to someone I barely knew. 
I feel like an idiot for wasting so much time trying to hate him when in reality he was trying to protect me from anything bad in the world. 
He couldn’t help it that he couldn’t catch up.
My face presses to Chris’ chest. I don’t know the moment I flung my arms around him and refused to let go, but the feeling of his heart beating against me brings me peace again, just like it did this morning in bed. 
“I called the hotel,” he says. “I changed the reservation.”
I pull back from his chest, staring up at him.
“If that makes you uncomfortable, and you want to go stay with Nick, I completely understand,” he says. “I didn’t think we were going to kiss. I wasn’t planning on making any moves. I just wanted us to be friends again. I wanted you back in my life in the right way.”
My hands hold his cheeks as my lips desperately search for his. His arms wrap around my back, holding me as close as possible. The kiss is rough, both of us trying to gain dominance. I pull back from him to catch my breath, staring at his glossy eyes. The guilt is written on his face. The secrets he held from me for years. 
“You could never lose me, Chris,” I assure him.
He rolls his lips into his mouth before licking his lips, basking in the taste of us. He nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. Fear takes over him before any sense of hope can. 
“We’re going to be okay, I promise.”
It was his idea to sit in bed and watch cartoons, and we did just that for the rest of the night. It was my idea to order room service. We laughed in that bed, sharing innocent kisses that were stolen from us over the years. I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything take that from us again.
“Chris?”
“Hmm?” he hums in response, his fingers tracing over my back where it had snaked up his shirt that was hugging my skin, just as it was the night before. 
“We won’t ever be just friends.”
He pauses for a moment before he responds.
“Good.” 
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @bridgetteauria @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @zoieisabella @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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miniwheat77 · 8 months
Text
Tight. (Mean!Keegan x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, Keegan being a meanie, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any.
This is not edited give me a break lmao
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You flinch slightly as he passes by you, body going rigid.
You cross your arms, nervously passing by him. You hate that he’s able to do this to you.
He’s mean to you. No matter what you do, he hates it. He’s cruel and it’s worse when there’s no one around. You hurry into your room to avoid him anymore. You don’t know what you did, but he hates you.
When you were first on base, you were happy. You loved being in the military and you loved helping people. Until now. His hatred for you made you bitter and cold. Waking up was tiring and miserable and sometimes you just wish you hadn’t. Seeing him, hearing what he had to say. All of it. It was sickening.
You really liked Keegan at first. You tried your hardest to get on his good side. Nothing you did ever seemed to work. Eventually you just gave up.
A sigh leaves your lips. Wiping your tired eyes. You had to trade for watch soon and you weren’t ready.
You stood up, looking out your door to make sure the hallway was clear, you didn’t want to run into Keegan anymore tonight.
You made your way down the hallway, closing your door behind you. You exit through the large metal door and make your way across base to the watch tower. Making your way up the stairs to relieve the last person on watch.
He thanked you before going back down the stairs you had just come up. It was basically a room full of cameras up in a watch tower, meant for watching everything. “Hey, before I go.” He stops just as he’s out of your sight, coming back inside. “Keegan was telling me a little bit about you.” He smiles. He’s standing with his back to the door, closing it. You notice his fingers twist the lock on it. The hair on your body stands up and you stand up from your chair, resting your hand on your sidearm. “If Keegan said it, I’m sure it’s not true.” You mumble. “He was just saying that you like to… get around. Was thinking maybe since nobody will be up here for a couple hours.” He shrugs, tugging the zipper down on his vest. “What he said wasn’t true. I’m not interested.” You say quickly. “Oh come on.. is it me?” He breathes. Taking a step toward you. You raise your shirt up to reveal your gun. “I said I’m not interested. I won’t say it again.” You breathe. He raises his hands up, a laugh leaving his lips. “Alright. Suit yourself. Thought I’d try my luck.” He mumbles. Taking a step back. “He said you were a slut, thought you’d be easier.” He laughs. Disappearing through the door finally. As soon as he’s gone, you’re rushing to lock the door. Sighing in relief. What the fuck was that?
Tears burn your eyes as you sit down, letting your head hang. You can’t help them as they fall. You were so defeated, and so fucking angry.
You wipe your eyes, regaining your composure for a minute before picking up your radio. “Hey, Maria, can you cover my watch for me early? I’ve got a headache and think I need to go see a medic.” You call to her over the radio. “No problem.”
You hurry down the steps, not wanting to be spotted by her. Keegan always spent his time in the mechanic shop on base, he got along with the mechanic and liked learning new things. Most likely he’d be there. It was late, but he didn’t sleep well during the night. You rush across the base, ankles burning from fast walking as you burst through the door to the shop. There’s only one Humvee currently inside. Keegan is sitting at the desk, working on some kind of paperwork. You startle him slightly when you barge through the door, making him look up. He stands up when he sees you. “What are you doing here?” He mumbles. “Fuck you.” You seethe. You pause, the tears slip from your eyes before you even start talking, you want to hold them back but you can’t. Not anymore. Your feet are planted on the ground a few feet away from him. “I just had someone come onto me in the goddamn watch tower because of you. Because of what you keep saying about me.” Your voice is unsteady. “I don’t know what the fuck I ever did you to Keegan, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. You win.” You spit. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” He mumbles. “Dramatic?” You freeze. You turn to him. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since I met you.” Your voice is quiet and serious. “I used to love this. I used to love knowing that I was helping people. I used to love every second of a mission, getting to meet civilians of all kinds, seeing all parts of the world and looking at peace through the violence. Now? I dread every single second of every single mission, because of you. I pray that I’ll die on them. Get shot, or stabbed. Just so that I don’t have to see your face. When we have to parachute out to reach a mission? I pray that my parachute doesn’t open. You’ve made my life a living hell, you’ve ruined me. So yeah, you win Keegan. Maybe that makes me dramatic but it’s the truth. I hate you. I hate you so goddamn much that it hurts.” Tears stream freely from your eyes. “Okay? What do you want me to say hm?” He breathes. “Why. Why do you do it?” He can’t lie, the heartbreak you feel unsettles him a little bit. “Because. You think you’re so perfect. You think that everything is all fine and dandy. The military isn’t for pathetic people like you. I mean.. look at you?” He laughs.
“So.. because I choose to see the good in everything, I deserve to be torn down? Treated like shit?” You’re moving closer to him. He laughs. “I’m sorry that not everyone can be a miserable sack of shit like you.” You growl. A gasp leaves your lips when he grasps you by your throat, backing you up and slamming you up against the wall by the desk. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growls. A whimper leaves your lips. “Fuck you.” You seethe. He tightens his grip. You try to swallow but can’t. “Do your fucking worst, you can’t hurt me any-“ he cuts off the rest of your oxygen, watching you turn red. His eyes are fixed on your lips and you look confused. He lets go, hearing you take in a deep breath. He moves closer to you, looking at your eyes before they flicker to your lips.
You’ve got to be delusional.
He grits his teeth, hand shaking as it sits at your throat. “You’re pathetic.” He growls. “Little bunny can’t even take a joke.” He chuckles. You try to push him back, but he forces you back even harder. “I hate you too, you know. Everyone fucking likes you and they don’t know how fucking pathetic you are.” He shakes his head.
“You feel good? Does treating me like shit make you feel good? You’re the pathetic one here. You spend every second of every day making someone else’s life hell because you’re so unhappy in your ow-“
His lips are what cut you off. You freeze for a second, and despite every nerve in your body telling you to force him off of you, you kiss him back. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth, he’s got his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose. He tightens his grip on your throat unintentionally as he kisses you, like you’ll slip away from his grasp. He lets go of your throat finally, lowering his hand to grope your breasts, hearing you gasp into his mouth. When he pulls away, you take in a sharp breath. Seeing the way you’re looking at him makes him regret it. The loving stare you always have. Intensified by his touch.
He reaches lower, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Once your lower half is completely exposed to him, he shoves some of the stuff on the desk to the side. Lifting you up and setting you on the desk. He hurries to unbutton his own pants, tugging them just low enough to expose himself. You’re still staring him down, lips parted slightly. “Stop looking at me like that.” He growls.
“What?” You breathe, “like you like me. You should hate me.” He growls. Lining himself up with your entrance. He tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into your entrance, hearing you gasp. “Oh fuck- you’re fucking tight,” he growls. Your eyes move from his face to where the both of you connect. Watching him slide into the cavern between your legs. You can’t peel your eyes away from him, your body betrays you for him. “Keegan-“ you whine. “The door-“ you gasp, clutching onto the desk. “Shut up.” He growls. “Let them see us.” He pants. He’s got a death grip on your thighs, the desk making an awful screech with each thrust he takes into you. The metal scratching the concrete. You try to be quiet, but it’s hard. As much as you hate to admit it, he feels good. Sliding up against parts of you that’ve been completely untouched. He stimulates parts of you that you didn’t know existed, you didn’t know you needed this. You can feel something building in your lower stomach.
You know that you should push him away, feel disgusted for letting him have something so intimate. You’ll be another notch on his belt, he’ll return to being the asshole that he is. The cry that leaves your lips interrupting your thoughts, you sit up, holding yourself tight. You’re watching him slide into you, seeing your arousal build at the base of his cock. You go quiet and that’s when he’s concerned. Seeing you staring between the both of you. You don’t push him away, so he keeps going. Your breathing picks up, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. You’re having sex with him, with Keegan. Your eyes finally flicker up to his face and he laughs. “Thought I lost you in there for a second.” He mumbles. Gritting his teeth. You say nothing, breath catching in your throat. “Look at you. So fucking dumb because of my cock.” The knot that’s wound up in your stomach is about to snap. “Keegan- I-“ you breathe. You can’t even finish your sentence, your body lurching hard as you cum, his eyes widening when you soak his cargo pants. Your eyes roll back, knuckles turning white as you hold onto the desk. “That’s it. Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls. You’re gripping onto him tight, sending him right into his own orgasm, hearing loud moans and whimpers leave his lips as he reaches his peak. He fills you up to the hilt, teeth gritted as he fucks you to ride out your high. Enjoying the way you tense up at the way he overstimulates you.
You’re quiet when he pulls out of you, whining at the loss of you wrapped around him. His filth spills back out of you, and he bites his lip when he sees it. He adjusts his mask when he steps back from you.
You move quickly to slide your pants back on, quickly putting your boot back on. You take in a breath to say something to him, but stop yourself. He’s got his back turned to you to clean himself up, and that’s when you take your opportunity to leave. He hears your footsteps and assumes you going to get something. Whipping around when he hears the door open. He sees your arm shutting the door behind you. He sighs. “Goddamnit Y/N.” He mumbles, buttoning his pants and fixing the desk.
The following day, he can’t seem to find you. He’s been looking all day. Finally, you emerge into the hallway from your Captain’s office into the hallway. “Well. If you really think that’s what you want, we’ll set you up an appointment and fill out the paperwork for a transfer.” He nods. You smile nervously. “We’re really going to miss you, and between here and there, I hope you’ll change your mind. You’re a good Sergeant Y/N.” He nods, passing by Keegan. Your eyes follow him, and your smile fades when you see Keegan standing there. He’s staring back at you. You tear your eyes away from his, turning and making your way to your room.
You step inside, closing the door behind you with a sigh.
He opens it and steps inside, startling you. He closes it behind himself, locking it. “You’re not going.” He breathes. You stay quiet. “Keegan. You need to leave.” You finally say after a minute. “No. You’re not going. If you go, I’ll follow you.” He breathes. “Wherever you go, I’ll find a way to be there with you. Don’t care what it is or where.”
“You can’t. You’ve done enough.”
He growls at your response, stepping closer to you. “You’re not going. No.” He shakes his head. He grasps his mask, tugging it off. “No. You’re staying.” You close your eyes as he moves closer. “Nobody will touch you like I can.” He breathes. You clench your eyes tighter. “You saw the way your body reacted to mine. I made you cum on me, I filled your pussy with my cum.” He breathes. “Stop-“ you flinch. “You loved it.” He mumbles, he’s backed you up into the wall behind you. “Keegan stop.” You breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He breathes, pressing his hand to your throat but not being rough. “Nobody will fuck you like I did. Nobody will understand you.”
“You’re wrong. I can’t live like this.”
“Give yourself to me completely and things will change.” He breathes.
“You call me a slut, I’m not doing this.” You push him back but he forces you back. “You are doing this.” He grits his teeth. “I know, I know I don’t say the right things. I didn’t mean it. I just.. you’re so fucking perfect and I can’t.. but you.. you let me fuck you. You let me touch you.” He closes his eyes. “Don’t go.” He breathes.
Your eyes prick with tears and you keep your eyes closed because you know if you see his eyes you’ll change your mind. “Stay.” He breathes. His breath is warm on your face as he holds you there. “You have to stop. If I stay.” You breathe. “You have to stop saying what you say about me.”
“I can do that.” He sighs. Running his hand between your legs. “But I’m going to be rough with you.. I have to be rough with your pussy if you want me to be nice.” He breathes. You go tense as he touches you. You sigh. You don’t know what to do. You feel his lips against yours once again, and you know you won’t be able to stay away if you kiss back.
You’re delusional. He’s played mind games with you. What is happening?
You can’t help it, melting right into him, kissing him back.
Here you go, spiraling out of control once again.
2K notes · View notes
paperultra · 8 months
Text
aries and the turtle.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,169 words Warnings: None
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asterism (noun): a group of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars
The first thought that comes to Sanji’s mind when he sees you curled up on the kitchen floor, rummaging through the box of herbs and spices, is that you’re the single most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.
“Darling,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe and smiling a bit when you startle, “you could’ve woken me up if you wanted a midnight snack.”
“O-Oh! Um.” Your voice colors the gentle calm of night into something warmer – and like always, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking over and squatting down next to you as you scramble to put back a jar of paprika. “I’m sorry, Sanji, I – er, well, um …”
“What are you looking for? I’ll help you.”
Under the yellow glow of the lantern, you seem to shrink. You duck your head and mumble into the collar of your pretty nightshirt. “That chamomile and lavender tea you made a couple nights ago …” you begin hesitantly. “I wanted to make some.” Your voice quiets further. “I can’t sleep.”
Sanji frowns, angling his head to catch a glimpse of your face. You do look a little more haggard than normal, your eyelids heavy, your shoulders burdened. His heart aches. How long had you laid in your hammock, tossing and turning, until you couldn’t stand it anymore?
“I see,” he murmurs. “Let’s make that tea right away, then, shall we?”
Sanji quickly finds the flowers and some lemon rinds he had sun-dried last week. You insist on helping at least a little bit despite his protests for you to just relax, fetching two teacups and setting some water on the stove to boil as he measures the right amount of each ingredient to put into the infuser.
Once the water is ready, steam billowing up past your heads and to the ceiling, he pours it into the teapot and covers it to steep.
(You don’t say anything while the two of you wait, and although Sanji yearns to coax a smile and a sweet conversation from you, he contents himself with the silence as well, which is just as sweet. You sneak glances at him every once in a while, though. He knows because he does the same, and the attention sends a thrill through his chest.)
Time passes. He pours the tea – first for you, then for him.
“Tell me when.” The silence breaks once more as Sanji spoons some honey into your cup.
“That’s good.”
He stirs the tea up, hands it to you. You blow across the top of it and then take a sip as he watches attentively.
“How does the madam like it?” he asks.
You exhale and meet his eyes for a split second before quickly looking away. A small smile touches your lips. “It’s perfect,” you reply from behind the cup. “Thank you, Sanji.”
Warmth stains his cheeks a gentle pink.
“The sky is clear tonight,” he ventures hopefully as he adds two teaspoons of honey for himself. He picks up his cup and gestures at the open door. “Stars and tea pair well together, if you have an appetite for it.”
You bite your bottom lip. His gaze immediately darts down to it, and he swallows, throat suddenly dry.
“Sure,” you whisper.
And so Sanji gains another precious sliver of time with you. Elbows resting on the railing, hot tea and your presence protecting him from the cold, he stands out on the deck of the Going Merry and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.
He knows how much you love the stars. They are one of the few topics you can talk about without your usual shyness, and he thinks of you every time he sees them, pinpricks of pure light shining through the darkness, guiding weary sailors home. Sometimes he thinks you must have been one yourself, carried down from the heavens. Ethereal. Out of reach.
“This time of year,” you say, and Sanji turns his attention over to the stars reflected in your eyes, “you can see my constellation.”
“Yours?” he questions.
“Yes. Those three stars over there.” Your arm stretches out to point at something on the left, your finger tracing an arc in the sky. “In my home village, parents dedicate their newborns to a constellation three days after birth. Mine dedicated me to the turtle.”
A turtle. That fits you incredibly well, he thinks to himself fondly, considering your quiet tenacity. “How come?”
“Turtles represent good luck and a long life.”
“I see. Well, do you think you’ve had good luck so far in life?”
You hum thoughtfully, looking down into your tea.
“I think so,” you say after some time, hushed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
A chuckle escapes him. “I would argue that you’re the one who’s brought good luck to us, sweetheart.”
You bite back a smile and whisper a small ‘oh’ as he gently bumps your shoulder with his own. Even now, you’re unused to compliments, but no matter; he’ll praise you at every turn until you finally realize you deserve every word of it.
There’s a brief period of silence before he asks, “What do you think my constellation would be?”
“Your constellation?” It doesn’t take long at all before you reply, pointing upward into a spread of stars that he could never even begin to puzzle out, “The ram. Some call it Aries.”
“What does it mean?”
This question seems to fluster you. You cough and stammer for a few seconds. He sips his tea, the beverage sweet and floral on his tongue as he waits.
“Rams … are artists at heart,” you finally say, glancing over at him. Your eyes, normally wary and somber, glitter. “They’re strong and passionate, but also gentle and kind.”
Oh.
Sanji can feel a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God. Surely, you’ll be the death of him, saying something like that so honestly and with eyes that look like that. He’d move heaven and earth for you if you asked.
“I’ll dedicate my life to living up to those qualities,” he breathes once he can speak again. “Just as much as you’ll live up to yours.”
You take a sharp breath.
“You already do,” he hears you whisper.
And Sanji truly, truly cannot resist anymore.
Your name leaves his lips. He reaches out, hand departing from the dying heat of the teacup and seeking out yours.
You do not pull away when his fingertips brush your cool skin over the railing; instead, you let him turn your hand over until palm touches palm, until the spaces between his fingers are filled with your own and his heart beats to the rhythm of yours.
Sanji squeezes your hand, and every cell in his body begs to falter and fall at your feet.
You rest your head on his shoulder.
The tea cools. But the stars remain as brilliant as ever, and your hand stays warm in his, and everything – everything is beautiful.
1K notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 10 months
Text
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the old college try
pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 5.1k
summary:
Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.
dear reader:
this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3
content warnings:
explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!
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You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.
Ashley: Get up bitch! 
Ashley: It’s time to get ready!
Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up
Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment
Ashley: You know I can
You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.
“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”
“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”
“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”
“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.
“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately. 
Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.
“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”
“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara. 
“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”
You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”
“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”
Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned tailgates and house parties on frat row following the game.
As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.
Literally.
“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks. 
“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”
You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
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Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.
The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away. 
There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”
Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.
“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.
Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”
A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel. 
“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.
“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll. 
“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”
“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice. 
Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel. 
“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience. 
“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.
You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.
Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”
“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back. 
“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”
Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.
“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him. 
“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”
“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”
“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup. 
The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”
It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.
“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”
Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.
“Sure.”
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The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.
You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans. 
“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”
“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin. 
You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.
“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”
“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”
“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke. 
“Engineering? That’s impressive.”
You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”
“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?” 
“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”
Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest. 
You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well. 
But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.
“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”
“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.
“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”
“Good to hear,” Joel replies. 
“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.
“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”
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The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions. 
When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”
“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.
“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.
“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”
“I’m not scared.” 
“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.
Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.
After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”
Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”
Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs. 
When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.
Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good. 
Confident. 
Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.
He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“
“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.
“Yeah?” He asks.
“Kiss me again.”
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Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”
“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.
“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time. 
“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults. 
“You liked that, huh?” 
His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.
You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”
“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.
“Hey, wait a minute—“
“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.
“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.
“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.
“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor. 
“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”
You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”
Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.
Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.
“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.
“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.
“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you. 
“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.
“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern. 
“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”
“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.
Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”
You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”
Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name. 
He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.
“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire. 
You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.
Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks. 
“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”
“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”
You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.
He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.
Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.
“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”
“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”
“Please what, baby?” He asks.
“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him. 
Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.
“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.
“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out. 
Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.
“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”
Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.
“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”
“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.
His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.
You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties. 
“Was that…are you…did you—“ 
You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”
Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”
“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint. 
“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.
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Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.
He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway. 
“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.
“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots. 
“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.
Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.
“Lead the way, baby.”
Joel Miller Masterlist
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elllisaaa · 30 days
Note
Svt reaction to first time kissing their cheek 🤭
first time kissing seventeen cheek
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-> pairing : svt × gn!reader
-> words count : 3k words
-> genre : fluff
-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | svt masterlist
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
It was on one of the rare days where you were both off of work. You took advantage of that to sleep later than usual, and when you woke up, Cheol was already ready to start his day. You could hear noises and the distant sound of music coming from the kitchen, and you followed the enticing scent of whatever your boyfriend was cooking. You came up behind him, circling his waist with your arms and pressing yourself against his back. All this felt so domestic, it made Seungcheol’s heart crave for more of these little moments. You haven’t been together for long, but instants like these made him realize how attached to you he was. He turned around to look at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear : “Good morning baby, did you sleep well ?” You nodded, and stood on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek softly. “Thank you for the breakfast Cheolie, bet it tastes amazing.” The look on his face made you giggle a little before he engulfed you in a big hug. He didn’t want you to see how flustered he was, but he was dying inside over how cute you were.
YOON JEONGHAN
“It’s 2 am Y/N, I’m not going to go get you ice cream now, can’t you wait until tomorrow ?” - “Please Hannie ! I’ll do anything you want !” The mischievous smile spreading on Jeonghan’s lips told you that maybe, you shouldn’t have said that. You knew how much of a menace he was, and maybe you should be afraid of what he was going to ask for in exchange for the chocolate ice cream you’ve been craving. “Anything I want ?” - “Yes, I just want my ice cream.” - “Okay. Then kiss my cheek.” You looked at him in disbelief. You were waiting for something more demanding, like doing some chores for him, or buying him dinner the next time you would go out together. But no, and you smiled at the pout aborning his lips when you took too long to give him his kiss. You leaned over the kitchen counter and kissed his cheek, smiling even more when you noticed the faint blush covering his cheeks. “You could’ve just asked for a kiss if you wanted one, Hannie.” - “Don’t push your luck, or you’re not getting your ice cream.” You kissed his cheek again, and suddenly, he was willing to go out every night to get you ice cream. 
HONG JOSHUA
You’ve been working on your assignment for almost two hours when Joshua came back from work. You greeted him and asked him if he had a good day, while still writing and taking notes about your homework. “You should take a break angel.” - “Yeah, I know, I just want to finish this part and then I’ll stop for today.” He kissed your forehead before heading to the kitchen to bring you and himself a glass of water. He knew you too well, and when you were studying all day long, you didn’t always think about drinking water or even eating. Joshua saw a plate beside you, so he knew you had food, but he couldn’t spot any sign of water. He put the glass of water beside your laptop and kissed your forehead once more. But before he could go back to the kitchen to prepare dinner for both of you, you grabbed him by his wrist. “Thank you Shua.” And just like that, you kissed his cheek before casually going back to your assignment. But you must know that when you kissed him, he would always kiss you back, and give you one hundred more for the fun of it. 
MOON JUNHUI
Jun had asked you to come over tonight, because he missed you and because he had a long day and needed to see you to completely relax. Both of you were currently laying in his bed and cuddling, laptop open with a movie playing. When you started to move around as if you wanted to get up, Jun whined and tried to pull you back, but you only giggled and still got out from under the covers. “I’m just going to the bathroom baby ! I’ll be back before you know it.” But your boyfriend was sulking, and even if he was cute, you had the perfect idea in mind to distract him. You leaned in and kissed his cheek before running out of his room. Jun stayed there, fingers brushing against the spot you just kissed. When what you did really hit him, he felt his cheeks heat up immediately. And he was still trying to process this kiss when you came back and snuggled up to him again. “You can’t do that, baby !”, he scolded you. “Why’s that ?” - “Because you’re too cute, you’re going to kill me one of these days !” But you just smiled, and kissed his cheek again. Yeah, you were definitely going to kill him. 
KWON SOONYOUNG
“But I was saving these cookies for today specifically ! And you ate them ! That’s a betrayal !” Soonyoung had been screaming for almost five minutes about the last cookies you ate, and how you couldn’t even consider yourself his partner if you did things like this. Obviously, you weren’t taking these comments to heart because he was always like this when it came to food. And honestly, you knew Soonyoung had a long week and that he was probably tired. “I’m sorry baby, I really didn’t know you were saving them. Next time let me know and I won’t touch them, okay ? I promise.” Your boyfriend huffed, arms crossed on his chest as he stared at the empty pack of cookies still sitting on the kitchen counter. You grabbed his hands, forcing him to uncross his arms and let you step closer. “I’ll go and buy you new cookies, how’s that sound ?” - “Good…” You smiled and decided to kiss him in hopes it would cheer him up. Your plan must have worked because the next second he was holding you close and telling you all about his shitty day at work while you were caressing his hair. All he needed was a little push. 
JEON WONWOO
Since you knew Wonwoo and his members would have a long day of practice because of the comeback coming soon, you doubted that he would take time to take care of himself today. So you decided to take it upon yourself and bring them all food and drinks, and it also allowed you to spend at least one hour with your boyfriend. Because between his job and yours, it was sometimes difficult to spend time together. And Wonwoo would’ve sworn he fell even more in love with you - if it was even possible - when you entered the practice room, with your arms full of bags filled with food for everyone. The fact that you were loving his members as much as he did, and that you took care of them and he was warming up his heart. “You didn’t have to do all that pretty.” - “I know, but I also know you wouldn’t have stopped for a minute if I didn’t come by. And you need to rest.” - “You’re an angel, I’m so lucky to have you.” You smiled at him, and kissed his cheek before handing him a bag filled with his favorite food. Wonwoo kissed you back, heart beating faster and with the conviction that he would marry you one day. 
LEE JIHOON
You often come by your boyfriend’s studio. Because of his hectic schedule, it was not always easy to go out on dates, or for dinner. But both of you preferred to stay in, and you loved to stay with him when he was working on his music. You found it fascinating that he could create such melodies as if it was natural for him, and he was always willing to explain everything he was doing to you. Plus, you were his muse, his inspiration, so it really was a win-win that you were there with him so often. But some nights, he would stay very late, and you would always end up falling asleep on the couch or on Jihoon’s lap. Tonight was one of those nights. You had a tiring day at work, but you still insisted on coming to see him and ended up falling asleep in his arms. “Can we go home soon ?” Your sleepy voice straddled Jihoon, and he pushed your hair away from your face, smiling at seeing you still half-asleep. “Yes jagi, I’m almost finished.” - “Okay… I love you.” And you kissed his cheek before nuzzling back into his neck and going back to sleep. But Jihoon couldn’t get over it, smiling like a lovesick fool - which he was because he immediately wrapped up his things and got you back home.
LEE SEOKMIN
“I’m home baby !” Seokmin announced as he took off his shoes, and dropped the bag full of food on the kitchen counter. You were too busy today to go grocery shopping, so your boyfriend offered to do it instead when he got off of work. He started to put away everything that needed to be refrigerated, while you got out of your office to help him. You worked from home today, and you had a lot to do, but you could at least take a break to help Seokmin. You kissed his shoulder and you passed behind him to put away everything that was going in the cupboards. “How was your day, baby ?” - “It was normal, nothing to say about it, except the fact that Soonie came to practice with a new tiger shirt.” - “I can’t say I’m surprised.” You rummaged through the bag until you found something that caught your attention. It was one of your favorite snacks, but they were hard to find, and the only shop that was selling them was thirty minutes away. “Did you get them just for me ?” - “Oh, yeah ! Thought you might use them with all the stressful things you have to deal with this week.” Maybe it was just your long day that was catching up with you, or your boyfriend’s sweetness, but you could almost feel tears pricking your eyes. You stepped towards Seokmin and kissed his cheek. “Thank you Minnie.” The boy chuckled and kissed your cheek right back, the biggest smile illuminating his face. “I’m always here for you baby.”
KIM MINGYU
It was Mingyu’s first date with you, and he was so nervous he thought he would pass out before he even got the chance to go out with you. He had been trying to grow the balls to ask you out for almost two years. You were one of Minghao’s friends, and he presented you to his members when you came back to Korea after having done your studies abroad. And Mingyu fell in love with you on the spot. He tried to get close to you over these two years, and also tried to gather enough courage to ask you out on a date. But when he finally succeeded, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, as if the universe was reminding him that you were way out of his league, and that it was a miracle that you agreed. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, it wasn’t how I imagined our first date. It probably was the worst one you’ve ever had and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to see me again.” Mingyu felt bad, because he had promised you a dinner at a fancy restaurant, and that you dressed in consequence but you ended up eating an ice cream while walking around a random park in your classy outfits. “What are you talking about ? It was literally the best date of my life. I’ve never laughed so much during a date, and I must be honest, I prefer to spend time with you rather than these fancy restaurants. I like you anyways Gyu.” You stopped him in his tracks, grabbing his hand in yours and kissing his cheek. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect date, but it was for Mingyu who couldn’t help the blush and smile spreading on his cheeks as he walked by your side, fingers intertwined with yours. 
XU MINGHAO
You were aware of how much Minghao loved his members, and of how much they meant to him, so that was why you were so anxious about how it would go. You wanted to make a good impression on them, because you hoped your relationship would last, even if it was fairly new, you really liked him and didn’t want to fuck it up. And your boyfriend was so sweet about it, telling you that they were a lot to handle, but that if you stayed yourself, they would undoubtedly appreciate you. Minghao held your hand under the table the whole night, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your knuckles and sometimes giving it a little squeeze to reassure you. When both of you left and he walked you home, you were still holding hands. “- Do you think it went well ?” - “It did honey, don’t worry. How could they not like you ? You’re amazing.” You chuckled shyly, and kissed his cheek before turning your head away from his intense stare. “I was anxious mainly because I knew how important it was for you, and I plan on staying in your life for a little while, so I wanted to get along with them.” Minghao pulled you closer to him by your hand so he could kiss the crown of your hair. “Good thing they appreciated you, and good thing I want you to stay for as long as you want to, then.”
BOO SEUNGKWAN
You wanted to surprise your boyfriend by coming to his concert to see him perform. You never had the chance to, and you were dying to. So when he told you about their concert that was going to be on one of your days off, you jumped on the occasion. But you wanted it to be a complete surprise, so you told him you couldn’t come, and did anyway. The moment Seungkwan saw you in the crowd, his vision got blurry because of his tears, but he tried to keep his composure anyway. But as soon as he was backstage and he saw you smiling at him with your arms open, he didn’t hesitate one bit before running to you. “You told me you couldn’t come, you liar.” Seungkwan wanted to sound tough and tease you but he was just so happy that you were here, he couldn’t help the smile spreading on his lips. “I wanted to surprise you.” - “Well… You did.” You chuckled and held him tighter, turning your head to the side so you could kiss his cheek. “You did so good, baby, I’m so proud of you.” Seungkwan felt like he could cry again, but he simply held you closer, overwhelmed by the feeling of being loved, by the feeling of being loved by you. And words couldn’t even express how much this simple kiss meant to him. 
CHWE HANSOL
Taking advantage of the fact that you didn’t work this weekend, you decided to spend a calm and relaxing afternoon with your boyfriend at home. He currently had his head resting on your lap, laying on the couch while you were quietly playing with his hair and holding your book with the other one. You were not the most social person, and you always preferred to stay in rather than going out, and you were glad that Hansol was just like you. Some music was playing as a background noise, and you couldn’t help but smile at seeing your boyfriend so peaceful. You leaned in and kissed his cheek, before going back to your book like nothing happened. But Hansol just stared up at you with the most lovestruck gaze, flustered. You looked down at him once more, a little smirk playing on your lips. “What ?” - “You never did this before.” - “Oh, yeah, I won’t do it again if you don’t like it. You just looked cute like that.” And Hansol felt the need to look away from you, because it didn’t feel right to make eye contact with the deity you were. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.” You giggled heartedly and kissed his other cheek, your smile widening when Hansol nuzzled against your tummy to hide his blush. And both of you were asking yourselves how you could’ve been so lucky to find each other. 
LEE CHAN
“Love ?” - “Hm ?” - “Could you teach me one of your choreography one day ?” Chan turned to you so quickly it was comical. He had been begging you to let him teach you some of his group dances even before you started to go out together, but you always insisted that you weren’t good at dancing and didn't want to embarrass yourself, especially knowing that your boyfriend was one of the best dancers of the country. So to know that you were giving in made him feel over the moon. “Of course baby !” And that’s how you found yourself in a dance studio, learning the choreo of Chan’s solo song. Even if you couldn’t compete with your boyfriend's style and flow, you were still managing - God knows how - to keep up with him and not look too ridiculous. and even when you felt like you did everything the wrong way, Chan was complimenting you, a big , proud smile on his face. As you were leaving the company, you kissed him on his cheek, making him stop in his tracks and touching the spot you kissed with his eyes wide open. “What was that for ?” - “It’s me paying you back for teaching me your choreo even if I’m not as good as you.” He rolled his eyes and took your hand in his, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Stop it, you know I’ve been begging for you to dance with me. Plus you could’ve been an idol with the way you’re dancing.” You knew it wasn’t true, but in his eyes, it was.
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie @bewoyewo @lichyuu @foxinnie8
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gaysindistress · 2 months
Text
What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two
a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!
Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex
non-mcu masterlist
part one
Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes
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The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.
Fuck Simon.
Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.
“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”
You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;
“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”
And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.
The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.
He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.
Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.
Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.
After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.
Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.
No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.
He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.
When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…
Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.
Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.
John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’
He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”
Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”
“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”
You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.
“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”
“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.
“Irritable you say?”
You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.
“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”
Relief.
The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.
You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.
“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”
That bastard.
You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.
“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”
If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.
Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.
It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.
Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.
“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.
John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.
“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”
Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.
“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”
“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.
He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.
“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”
You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.
Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.
Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.
The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.
You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.
“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”
His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”
“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”
“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”
515 notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 3 months
Text
Memory
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember
Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.
The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.
“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.
She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.
“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.
“You know what I want,” he says.
“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.
The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.
“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.
“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.
“You’re lying!”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”
“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.
Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.
He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.
“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.
“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”
“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”
“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”
“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”
“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”
She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.
Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.
She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.
You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.
“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.
“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”
She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.
Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.
“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”
“You seem familiar,” you tell her.
“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”
“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”
You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.
“I better get back to work,” you say.
“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.
She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.
With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.
You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.
“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.
“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”
“I- what? Okay?”
She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.
Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.
“What is happening?” You ask her.
“Just trust me,” Nat says.
“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”
“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”
“Two minutes before what?”
She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.
“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.
“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.
She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.
“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.
“I am not riding on that,” you say.
“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.
You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.
“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.
“What?”
You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.
“Jump!” Nat shouts.
You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.
You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.
“Are you okay?” She asks.
“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”
The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.
“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.
“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.
“Y/n-“
“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”
Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.
“I told you to let me be.”
“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”
Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.
“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.
You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.
“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”
“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”
“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”
You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.
“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.
You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.
“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”
“For?” You ask.
“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.
Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.
“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.
“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”
“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.
“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”
“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.
“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”
“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”
“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.
“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”
“No,” she says simply.
“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”
You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.
“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”
“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.
She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.
You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.
“How did I do that?”
“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.
You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.
“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.
“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”
“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”
“But why?”
“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”
“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”
“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”
You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.
“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.
“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.
“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“
“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”
“I don’t need to hear what?”
There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.
“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.
She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.
“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”
“What was Steve going to say?”
“Hm?”
“About you and me,” you prompt her.
Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.
“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”
“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”
“Together?”
She nods.
“Define together. Like dating?”
“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”
“Oh,” you say.
“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.
“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”
“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”
“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.
“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”
You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.
“I want to remember.”
“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”
To be continued…
523 notes · View notes
irisintheafterglow · 2 months
Text
but who wants to live forever, babe?
summary: you're too sweet for dabi.
wc: 1.45k
cw/tags: gn!reader but dabi calls them pretty, swearing, brief reference to blood and injury, pet names (doll, baby, pretty), dialogue driven, emotionally constipated touya todoroki
note: this is very shamelessly written because of hozier lol. hope you like it :)
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
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You were irritating, excessively irritating. 
You woke up too early to watch the sunrise and stayed out too late to see constellations. You lingered in flower shops to touch the prettiest blooms and gave the last of your coins to street musicians. You were the first to suggest the tastiest food around and always volunteered to pay for everyone’s meals, no matter how large the group. You were thoughtful, selfless, and frustratingly kind. He wouldn’t have as much of a problem with it if you weren’t the deadliest killer-for-hire in Musutafu’s criminal underground. 
“You’re too nice,” Dabi says one night after a period of calm silence following the chaos of him crashing through your window and bleeding all over your floor. You glance at him from your spot on the windowsill, peering carefully over the construction blueprints for the following day’s assignment. He sits up with a groan, his hand grabbing the the spot on his abdomen you’d stitched up a few hours prior. “It’s infuriating.”
“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know,” you deadpan and he scoffs, wincing when pain shoots across his side. “Had it been anyone else who broke into my apartment, I’d have to deal with a fully dead body instead of a semi-dead one.” 
“That’s exactly my point,” he argues, straining his arm to grab the cup of water on the side table. Before he can get a good grip on it, you stand and snatch it from his fingers, holding it enticingly with a hand propped on your hip. “C’mon, doll. Now, you’re just being mean.”
“I’m being nicer than you are,” you counter with an iron grip around the cup. “Calling me infuriating after I just saved your barbecued ass from dying. Didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?”
“My mom didn’t teach me jack shit,” he reminds you, making another futile swipe for the water that you easily pull away. “What do you want me to do, take it back?” You shake your head with a tired sigh, finally handing him the cup. “I’m not taking it back,” he mumbles as you sit on the edge of the bed. Against his better judgment, he doesn’t immediately flinch away when you reach out to check his bandages, your fingers brushing delicately across his skin.  
“I know you aren’t,” you murmur absentmindedly. 
“Aren’t you gonna ask why?”
“Why should I? It’s not like you’re going to tell me why you hate me,” you concede and a muscle in his jaw tenses. 
“Stop being a brat and just ask.” You resist the urge to jab your pointer finger straight into his stab wound but settle for pulling back your hand from his body, leaving him craving your touch no matter how his logic told him to resist. He has half the mind to reach out and grab your hand, part of him ready to beg you to just stay with him. But, when his palm covers the top of your hand, it sits there awkwardly until he clenches it into a fist and pulls away. He tries another tactic. “Look, all I’m saying is you shouldn’t open your window for every stranger that crawls up your fire escape.” 
“But you’re not a stranger, as much as I wish you were one.” You return to your papers at the windowsill and he’s alone in the bed again. 
“You don’t mean that,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me you’re lying.” His voice is almost too quiet for you to hear it break. Almost. 
“No,” you admit. “Of course, I don’t mean it.” You were looking at him too softly, too tenderly. Taking him in, stitching him up, and letting him rest while you kept watch was infintely more than what he deserved, especially after banging on your window and immediately passing out when you opened it. “Tell me you don’t mean what you said.”
“I do, though.” You nod and he watches your walls go up in real-time, closing yourself up so his words, good or bad, can’t get through. A million thoughts of panic race through every nerve in his body and only one command makes its way through: Fix it. 
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” Your blank expression becomes a frown and you look ready to kick him out onto the streets, or at least reopen his wound. “Let me explain first before you beat the shit out of me.”
“You have thirty seconds.”
“I think you’re too good for me,” he declares simply. He can’t see his truth make your heart stutter. “I think you’re too good for this life in general, and I think you should get out of it.” You scoff humorlessly, rolling your eyes to the side. 
“Because you hate me?”
“Because I don’t,” he corrects. You dare to meet his eye and feel your breath catch in your throat. His eyes are shining bluer than you’d ever seen them before, the scarce moonlight leaking through your window catching in his eyes just right. They’re scorching, hotter and more intense than anything his Quirk could create. “I should, but by some cruel twist of Fate, there are no words for how desperate I feel when I’m not with you, however much I despise that feeling.” In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t be able to waterboard this information out of him; yet here he was, bitterly lovesick and scowling as he told you that he’d rather burn alive than hate you. You fail to stifle a laugh and his scowl deepens. “You laughing at me?”
“A little bit, yeah,” you confess, standing to check his temperature with a hand on his forehead. It’s scathing hot and you suddenly notice the shivers he was trying to conceal. “You must be delirious if you’re admitting this all out loud, and you’re probably going to start burning up if you continue talking.” 
“I’m not delirious,” he grumbles. “And it’s normal for me to get like this when I… overdo it on missions.” Your mouth opens in understanding and he lets you touch his forehead once more to confirm the fever. “I figured you’d know this by now after all the times you’ve had to fix me.”
“Forgive me for thinking that you were becoming ill because you were forced to say one nice thing about me,” you say with a smirk, grabbing a small towel and heading to the bathroom. His voice calls after you while you turn on the cold water. 
“There you go again with your stupid sweet-talking sarcasm. You can at least acknowledge what I just confessed to you.” You chuckle again and re-approach him at the bed, draping the wet towel over his forehead and gently pushing him back onto the pillow. “You’re doing it again.” You make a split-second decision to mess with him, just for the hell of it. 
“Doing what, baby?” The petname disarms him and he blinks at you once, then twice before regaining consciousness. 
“Being too sweet for me,” he manages to force out and you let yourself smile at his obvious blush. You flip over the cloth to the cooler side and he sighs, closing his eyes in contentment. “You don’t do this with everyone, do you?”
“No, Touya,” you answer patiently and something in his chest tightens at the use of his true name. He’d forgotten he told you his true identity, most likely a result of a circumstance similar to the one you were in where he was too tired and weak to think clearly. “You are the only one I will take care of and allow to barge through my window at three in the morning. Not because I’m ‘too sweet,’ like you say, but because I care about you. Got it?”
“Mmm. Yeah,” he rasps. “Thanks, doll. You mind getting in here with me? I’ll sleep better if–”
“You don’t even need to ask,” you finish, slipping under the covers and settling against his chest. “Just stop being an asshole for a second.”
“Hey, careful on the–” 
“I’m aware of your wound, stupid,” you interject. “I’m the one who fixed it, remember?” 
“Right. Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, his lips brushing the top of your forehead. The tension in his body gradually dissipates the longer your skin is against his. “Can we sleep now?”
“If you shut up for long enough, yeah,” you joke and he lightly pinches your side. 
“I finally get in bed with you and you’re not so sweet anymore.” You snort against his chest. “What happened?” 
“I think we both have a lot to learn about each other. For now, please shut up and sleep.” 
“As you wish, pretty.”
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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