#eyeliner and happy trail

[because-its-eurovision]

Käärijä IG story

[readyforthegarden]

josh gave US the gift tonight 🥰😌😮‍💨

[literaila]

are you stupid?

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured and satoru isn't cool with it

warnings: literal hurt/comfort, descriptions of a wound bad enough to warrant stitches, little angst, fluff, slightly ooc satoru

last part | next part

*

year six.

“are you stupid?” 

your hands are frozen to the touch, barely able to grasp the doorknob when his voice comes from nowhere at all. 

you almost don't notice it when satoru opens the door. you have to blink to focus on him, but by the time you do, you're already falling against the empty space in front of you. 

satoru is quick to catch your arm, righting you before you break your nose on the hardwood.

“that’s my line,” you tell him, slightly coughing--it sends shocks down your spine and you shiver. you shake his hand off of you, trying to walk forward, but there's a wall of a man standing there. you blink at him. "hey, satoru. would you mind moving?” 

“i could smell the blood from down the block,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, completely still. “what did you do?” 

you roll your eyes, waving a hand (even though it makes you a bit woozy). “there’s no way you could smell that. it’s not even that bad.” 

“it’s dripping down your shirt.” 

you pout, looking down. "i just washed this, too.” 

it is a lot of blood, you realize suddenly. you would definitely get some looks if you were walking down the street in public. 

still, you don't feel all that banged up. it's not really your fault that you were slightly distracted when that curse snuck up on you... or at least, you're pretty sure it's not. 

satoru, shaking his head--maybe finally realizing that you're fine--moves out of the way, holding the door open for you. "what did you do?"

you step through, using the wall to keep you steady. “how do you know i did anything?” 

you finally look at satoru, even though he's fading from your eyeline, in and out of focus. he's not wearing his blindfold or his glasses, and he's got a frown that rivals one of megumi's at the moment. 

it makes you laugh, just a little, as you try to shake the shoes from your feet. 

he was probably sleeping, you think. usually, you'd probably feel... at least slightly bad. but right now? you don't even care. 

you're just happy to see him, right in front of you like your own personal greeting card. you've only been gone a day, but satoru feels much further away than that. 

especially with his frown and his furrowed eyebrows. he's in a mood, you remember, frowning. 

“why are you bleeding, y/n?” 

you cough again, tapping his chest as you move past him. “jeez, lighten up, satoru. i’m good,” you say this as you limp down the hallway, wincing with every step. 

you don't get to watch satoru's eye roll, but it takes less than a second for an arm to wrap under your shoulders, satoru forcing your weight onto him, and he practically carries you through the house until you reach the kitchen, where he sets you on the countertop. 

he's looking at you like you're a fragile baby bird. 

and he doesn't bother to ask--of course he doesn't--before he lifts your shirt from your abdomen, it slightly sticking (due to the blood) before it rolls up. 

satoru's eyes widen as he inspects you. "woah," he whispers, paling just a little bit. 

you don't look down with him--because that's a terrible idea--but you watch satoru. 

you can barely feel it, actually. it's basically just a minor cut, nothing too--

you try not to gasp when satoru presses a finger near your ribs, not directly touching the wound, but far too close to it. it would be embarrassing to double over in pain, wouldn't it?

“is it bad?” you wonder, breathlessly, feeling a bit light-headed. 

satoru’s head snaps up, “you didn’t look?” 

“i was a bit distracted. the curse wasn't gracious enough to give me the chance to grab a couple of bandaids, the bastard."

“how did you even manage to do this?” 

your eyes trail down unconsciously, but all you can see is your bunched-up shirt--drenched in blood. yeah, you'll probably have to burn it. 

satoru is looking up and down, his face entirely disgusted, nose scrunched up and eyes avoiding your own. 

it makes you laugh a little--because you're very familiar with satoru and his opposition to anything humanly--which then makes you wince with him. 

it doesn't hurt that bad, really. 

“can you get the first aid kit?” you ask him, pushing his hands away from you and your cut. but as soon as satoru isn't right there to lean on, you begin to tilt forward. 

satoru immediately resumes his position as your pillar. “are you kidding? i’m calling shoko.” 

“i know how to do stitches, satoru. it’s late.” 

“you need, like, a stomach replacement for that.” 

you roll your eyes, leaning even further into him. at least when you're pressed up against his chest, you don't have to breathe. “you’re so dramatic.” 

satoru is still frowning. “doesn’t that hurt?” 

“nope,” you lie, sitting up and pushing his hands away again. “i’m running on adrenaline. it’s not that deep, anyway.” 

he gives you a hard look. 

you sigh. “what’s wrong with you? you can drop the act.” 

“what act?” 

“the ‘i’m the caretaker’ act.” 

“what if i came home with a hole in my stomach?" satoru's jaw is clenched. "what would you do?” 

“i can't think about hypotheticals right now, satoru,” you whine. “please get the first aid kit?” 

“should i get megumi too? might as well teach him how to stitch you up, he's getting to that age, you know.” 

“funny,” you say, dryly. “do you want me to bleed out on our counter, or…?” 

satoru sighs, but he walks out of the kitchen a moment later. hopefully to save you from dying. 

you exhale, feeling your chest tighten. you can't feel much, for the most part. but then there's that feeling every couple of seconds, a memory of the whole thing playing out-- except your head is fuzzy, and everything looks sort of… colorful right now. 

you can’t even remember how you got here. or the last time a curse managed to actually injure you. 

it feels a bit juvenile, really. 

especially because you’re in no position to be taking care of yourself—but in no world would you wake up shoko in the middle of the night for this. in no world would you wake up anyone, except for satoru, to deal with you, with your blood and your stubbornness. 

god, you hate pain. you hate having to wash blood out of your clothes, and you hate sitting here by yourself. 

you slump down. only seconds have gone by, but it feels like so much more than that. the wound burns, you think, in an unnatural way. 

you probably got poisoned and you're probably going to die and satoru is going to stomp on your grave, and--

“do we even have enough gauze to cover that up?” satoru is asking you when he walks back in. he's wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, you realize, watching him. 

his eyes are stern, focused, and the rest of him is morose. you should be able to gaze at him, to stare--but you can't because your vision has spots in it, and everything about satoru is too hard right now. 

he’s been like this for days. casual but stuck—like he can’t find it in him to laugh about anything. his face has been a field of lines, with no breaks in between, and his eyes have been greyer than they should be, a sort of dim color that you hate. 

satoru's eyes are wild, usually. they are blue fires and the vast expanse of the universe. 

but not right now, when he's looking at you like this. and not this week--because he's barely been looking at you at all. 

and it's unfortunate not just because you miss him, but because you're not as good at casting it all away as he is. you can't shove things aside and make light out of the darkest situations. 

you can't fill his role, and yet you keep trying to. 

it's an inevitable cycle of failing and never being enough. 

“i’ll just cut up your shirt if there’s not enough,” you tell him, putting on a smile so he can’t tell how badly you want to start crying.

is this real pain, you wonder, or a dream? 

“use your own shirts.”

you pout. “but yours are the best quality.” 

satoru rolls his eyes, again, and begins to wipe off all of the well-used tools you have. a needle you've had for years, stolen from jujutsu high, and thread you can't remember taking. 

“what are you doing?” you try to grab the instruments from his hands, clumsily, almost cutting yourself again in the process. 

satoru is quick to hold them away, keeping them up and out of your reach. not that you were going to try very hard anyway. 

“i’m going to stitch you up," he says, like he's scolding you. 

“you don’t know how.” 

“please,” satoru scoffs, shaking his head. he gets a cloth wet under the facet, and then holds it towards you. “i probably learned how to do this before you were even born."

“when you were nine months old?” 

“clean it.” 

you listen, holding the cloth to your wound and still not looking down. it feels sort of ticklish, and also like you're being tortured. 

“you don’t have to,” you tell satoru after a moment, breathing through the nausea that comes with the pain. “i know you’re squeamish around blood.” 

“i am not squeamish.” 

you grin at him. “sure.” 

satoru looks up, and finally, his face relaxes, just a little bit. you can even see the workings of a smile on his mouth—the first you’ve gotten in days. 

he shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. sit up.” 

“seriously,” you say, again, catching his hand just as he’s about to touch you. “i can do it.” 

“seriously, i’m not letting you. your hands are shaking.” 

you look down, releasing his wrist. “oh.” 

“yeah, oh.” 

satoru kneels so he can see your cut properly, his face narrowed in concentration. you focus on him as he touches the tender skin by the wound, featherlight fingertips trailing across your skin.

you shiver and apologize under your breath. 

he hasn't been this close in days. 

“does it hurt now?” he asks you, voice so quiet that it almost echoes through the house. 

“not really,” but you look up towards the ceiling. somehow you know it’s going to be worse if you watch. 

“i can call—“ 

“no, satoru. i already told you, if you don’t want to do it then i—“ 

“okay, i’m doing it. i’m doing it.” 

you close your eyes when he punctures your skin, waiting for the feeling to subside. it's just a prick, but you still have to think about getting the mail, going to the store, taking a shower after this, or maybe just crawling out from your own skin and becoming a spirit.

but satoru seems to recognize this, maybe from your face, and he asks, “what kind of curse was it?” 

“dunno?” you breathe out, mapping a picture on the ceiling in your mind. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i can't remember.” 

satoru looks up. “what?”

“it’s all a blur,” you say, wanting to shove his hands off of you. you've been trained to kick people away, so it's really not your fault. “i think i won though.” 

“i don’t think this is winning.” 

“keep going,” you tell him, instead of arguing. “i’m fine.” 

satoru tsks but does as you say, resuming the smooth movements of suturing. any normal day, you'd probably want to watch his hands work, want to inspect his job and make fun of him for the way he holds his breath while looking at an open wound.

“how were the kids?” you ask him, after a moment. 

satoru breathes out, nodding. his hair is messy, his face slightly wrinkled from sleeping still. “they missed you.” 

“it was only a day. did megumi get that book report back yet? he was worried about it before i left, but i told him—“ 

“i missed you.” 

you look down, forgetting about pain or blood. “what?” 

“i miss you,” he says, this time, like it’s any different. satoru keeps his eyes down, his hands moving. but there's a guilty look on his face--something that tells you he didn't mean to say anything. 

“satoru…” 

“are you still mad at me?” 

you tilt your head. “mad? why would i be mad at you?” 

“you haven’t been coming to bed,” satoru answers, obviously.

your eyes widen. “satoru—“ and there’s a sharp pain in your side. 

“sorry,” he murmurs, softly, at your flinch. 

“i’m not mad at you,” you tell him, trying not to double over. your voice is high-pitched and breathy. you feel like a child—ridiculous and foolish—but it doesn’t stop you from speaking. “i was never mad at you.” 

“you weren't?” 

“you asked me for space. i was just giving it to you.” 

satoru pauses, looking up at you. 

“i… i didn’t want to push you into talking to me. i thought—i don’t know, that maybe things had changed. i mean, we don’t have to…” you wince, and it’s not because of the pain this time. “to sleep together. or in the same room. if you don’t want that anymore—“ 

“no." 

"no what?" 

he shakes his head. "i want that."

“satoru, you’re not going to hurt my feelings—“ 

“i was wrong," he cuts in, voice rough. you don't think you've ever heard him say those words before. "i don’t want space, i never did.” 

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “then why did you…” 

“i—“ he stops. looks around. “does it hurt?” 

and you know, just as you know most things about satoru, that he can't continue. that the truth is going to cut just a little bit too deep--deeper than your injury--and he can't bring himself to say it. 

so you only take another deep breath, pushing away the feeling of your skin being patched back together, and nod. 

“a little,” you say softly. 

an unspoken understanding passes between the two of you, and breathing gets a little bit easier all of a sudden. 

maybe it wasn't the pain. maybe it was just the tension, the build-up of days apart. 

it makes sense, even to your slightly fogged-over mind. 

and then the two of you sit there while satoru patches you up, sharing a glance every couple of seconds—a glance with so many words, so tender and feeling that it succeeds in making you even dizzier. blood loss has nothing on the way satoru makes you feel. 

you can't see his hands--don't dare to--but you can feel the softness of them, the care he's taking in stitching you up. 

if it were any day, you would laugh at him for it. but right now, you just accept it. bask in it. 

“how’s that feel?” satoru whispers to you, after he’s tied it off and wiped the blood from your skin. 

you don't bother to look down. really, you don't want to see the freshly sutured line on your abdomen, but also, you just want to keep looking at him. 

it's much more gratifying, at least.

“good," you say, voice stronger, easier. "is it going to scar?” 

satoru scoffs. “if you wanted untouched skin then we should’ve called shoko—“ 

“shut up,” you interrupt. “i’m not listening to the medical advice of someone who’s never gotten a scratch in his life.” 

“i let you scratch me.” 

“well, obviously, i’m the exception,” you smile at him, exhausted and sweaty and still a little out of it—but home. with him. 

and this time satoru actually smiles back. 

it’s a bizarre thing, his smile. the first one you’ve gotten in days and it wakes you up immediately. almost like realizing you’ve been in the dark for weeks, just getting a glimpse of the light. 

he's a peek into something more--unearthly. if the closest thing you get to divinity is satoru, then you won't complain.

“you okay?” you ask him, but you’re only teasing. 

“that’s my line,” he says. 

“you sure?” 

satoru leans towards you, forehead against yours. “i’m sure.” 

you sit there for a moment. satoru is usually the one clinging to you, but tonight you feel like if he moves away you might never get him back. 

so you sit there, make sure to hold him to you, secure with your hands wrapped around his biceps, his arms grazing against yours as he leans against the counter. 

you're probably a mess right now--your skin stained with blood that shouldn't be outside your body, your face covered in dirt, your hair and clothes drenched in sweat and rain. but satoru doesn't seem to mind, so you don't think about it too hard. 

he deserves it, at least, for making ridiculous assumptions. you have to get him back somehow, after all. 

after a minute, or two, or maybe even three, you clear your throat. “great. i’m alive, you’re… less annoying than usual. let’s go to bed.” 

“‘less?’” satoru gapes at you, but his laughter is unmistakable. 

“yeah, i know," you say, feigning shock, "i was surprised too.” 

he flicks your forehead but you’re still smiling at him. 

“okay,” satoru whispers, leaning back. “bedtime.” 

you rub at the spot around your wound one more time, already feeling the days of sore skin and itchy muscles, and then you push satoru so you can hop off of the counter. 

“hey,” he says, suddenly, stopping you. his voice is quick, almost lost. but his hands wrap around your wrists, keeping them between the two of you so you can't escape. and satoru's eyes are on your face, flickering between the different points of your skin, looking like he's just realized that he's lost something.

you raise a brow, but don't push back against his chest or try to pry his hands away. “what?” 

satoru swallows, still watching you. 

his eyelashes are long enough to touch his skin, and his eyes are blue enough to take up the whole world. you want to grin at the saturation of him--so much brighter than you've seen him in days--but you refrain. you don't want to scare him away. 

but you're not so eager to move. it's easy to wait on satoru, really--to wait for his words, to let him collect his thoughts--because you've only spent nine years studying his face. you've only admired the slope of his nose and the tilt of his chin since you were sixteen, and there's much more to be discovered. 

so staring at him is simple. especially when there's so much to look at. 

you have plenty of unmarked territory you need to take over. 

you keep a slight smile on your face while you wait, and eventually, satoru groans, hanging his head back. 

“what?” you repeat, laughing just a little. 

“can you stop looking at me like that?” 

“like what?” you nudge your head against his chin, and satoru glares at you. 

“i’m trying to be serious.” 

“oh, okay,” you try to push away your smile, but you can't. it's glued where it is. “i’m serious.” 

“you’re not.” 

“what is it, satoru? i’m listening.” 

his eyes meet yours, again, and you almost flinch. 

everything about satoru is forceful, except for the way he looks at you. the way his eyes relax, his entire face falling when you're both eye to eye. it's a look you've only observed on one person, in only one particular moment. 

and, you think, all of a sudden, it might be your favorite look. 

but you're still fed up with waiting. you're tired of his consideration, his contemplative eyes. you want satoru back--with his ridiculous laughter and stupid jokes. you want him irritating the sanity out of you and simultaneously bringing you to life. 

you don't tell him that though, because in this moment you'll take what you can get. 

any version of satoru is better than none at all. you’ve learned that the hard way. 

“hey,” he says, one more time. his smile is unusual, a frightened little thing. “i love you.” 

you freeze. 

your face falls flat, thinking of the words in a million different ways. you might've misheard him--but you're so locked in on him that it seems impossible. 

at once, you consider exactly what he means, so many different variations of the same thing. 

does he love you like your parents did, always too much but never enough?

does he love you like you love megumi and tsumiki—like your life depends on it? like you’d be wrecked without them? 

or does satoru love you like you love him? does he love you like it’s breathing? like there’s never been a choice in the matter? 

but, it's simple. a beat passes, three seconds of contemplation--just enough for the words to ring true throughout your body. 

the way he’s looking at you is enough to answer any question you have. 

satoru loves you like a promise, and nothing less. 

“you idiot,” you say, a sudden, day-breaking smile on your face. “don’t you think i know that?"

*

"should we wake them up?" tsumiki asks, walking up behind megumi, staring down at you both. she's rubbing her eyes, her hair slightly messy.

megumi considers it for a moment.

neither of them have woken up like this in a while. you and gojo are getting better at falling asleep in bed instead of on the couch.

but, at this point, megumi thinks that it's probably a habit. or just to annoy him.

gojo's face is shoved into your chest and your hands are tangled in his hair. the both of you have silly smiles on your faces, and seriously. how do you both manage to fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions.

"no," megumi whispers, yawning. "i can make breakfast. mom probably got home pretty late."

"okay," tsumiki says, still staring.

megumi rolls his eyes and walks away. honestly, what did he do to deserve getting two idiots for parents?

*

next part | series masterlist

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact pt.2

summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship

Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom

part 1

*****

“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.

You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment. 

The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step. 

“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.

“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.

“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.

You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.

“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.

“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap. 

You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly. 

“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.

“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.

“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him. 

“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.

“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings. 

“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.

“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened. 

“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him. 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate. 

“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence. 

“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically. 

“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.

“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.

“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”

Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people. 

“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore. 

“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly. 

“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.

“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.

“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.

“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.

“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes. 

“Fucking tease.”

*****

Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want. 

Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.

“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced. 

“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up. 

Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind  of girl.

You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.

“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea. 

You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast. 

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.

“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet. 

“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..

After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.

Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.

You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.

“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still. 

When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.

You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.

You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly. 

And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience. 

After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing. 

Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening. 

“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you. 

“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your  folds. 

“Steve”  You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you. 

“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this. 

He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.

“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.

You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.

When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair. 

Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.

You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you. 

“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.

“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.

“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.

“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.

“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says. 

“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.

“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.

******

“Dude, why are you staring at me?”  Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring. 

“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.

“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.

‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin. 

“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.

“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.

“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it. 

“Always?” He asked, to which you nod. 

“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness.  “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”

“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed. 

His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair. 

When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring. 

“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.

“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap. 

“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again. 

“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said. 

You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.

“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.

“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life. 

“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that. 

Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained.  If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story. 

‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.

“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness. 

You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.

“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”

“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.

Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter. 

*****

tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986

p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why

[nickfowlerrr]

so inviting, i almost jump in.

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.

words: 4.5k

notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.

also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞

"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.

You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.

"Before you say anything-"

"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.

"Doll,"

"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.

"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."

Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.

"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"

You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.

"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.

"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"

"Mhm...maybe," you say.

"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.

"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.

You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.

You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.

But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...

A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.

Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.

That was an immediate 'no thank you'.

You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.

--

The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.

You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.

You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.

There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.

"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.

"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.

"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"

"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"

He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.

"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.

You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.

"You have to come over."

"No, I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You're staying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.

"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I lied."

"Huh? To me? About what?"

"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."

"Another lie?"

"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.

"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.

"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.

Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.

"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.

"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.

"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.

"You had only asked me to be your fake date."

"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?"

You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.

"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.

--

More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.

And it's surprising how normal it all feels.

You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!

Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.

You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.

You were here.

With Bucky.

So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.

The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.

"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."

You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.

Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.

This is easy for him because it means nothing.

This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.

Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...

You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.

"Oo, countdown is going!"

The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.

You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.

You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.

As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

Two.

He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.

One.

"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.

"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.

His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…

You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.

You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.

You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.

The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.

"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.

You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.

There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.

Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.

The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...

He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?

Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror.

Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.

You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.

You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.

"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.

"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.

"I'm sorry. About kissing you."

"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.

His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.

He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.

You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.

He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.

You walk back out into the living room as he follows.

"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"

"... I guess not."

"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."

He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"

"What are friends for if not clean up?"

He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.

He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.

"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."

"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."

"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."

"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"

Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."

"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.

Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.

Other things, of course, being you.

When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.

He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...

Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.

Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.

"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.

"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"

"If you don't ask, you'll never know."

He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.

But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?

"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.

It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.

Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...

You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.

You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.

You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.

"I guess I'll head out, then."

"Oh," he breathes.

"Oh?"

"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."

"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.

Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.

"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."

"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.

"What's your resolution?" he asks.

"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."

"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."

"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.

"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.

You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.

"And you?"

Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.

"I…would like to communicate better."

You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.

"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.

"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."

You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.

It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.

"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."

"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.

"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.

Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.

"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.

Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.

"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.

He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.

"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.

It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.

You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑼𝑵ㅤㅤ january free requestsㅤ ㅤ trafalgar law x f! reader

🕊️ request: @leftladyluminary ⋆｡˚ Hello ( ^ω^ ) I was wondering if I could request a Law x fem!reader exploring a temple together that turns out to be a uh “procreation” temple the strongly affects those who enter? Please and thank you~ （╹◡╹）♡ 🕊️ tw: mdni. raw, rough sex. vaginal. nipple play. pregnancy ideas implied. cream pie. wc: 1650 🕊️ masterlist

Zou is a humid place, very muddy as well. Your boots are dirty, and your clothing soaking wet. Those “Eruption Rains” become pretty inconvenient throughout the day, but they are necessary.

“I shouldn’t have worn a white shirt…” you tell Law, crossing your arms over your breasts.

“I would say you shouldn’t have worn it without a bra, (Name)-ya” Law says, squeezing and twisting his hat to drain it from the excess of water.

You sit down on a rock. Was it really necessary to say such thing? At best he should be a little bit happy to see your body through semi see through fabrics. What Law has just said felt painful to you, to say the least.

“You are right, I’m sorry” you mumble, walking away to find a proper place to hide and change your clothes. You are sure the ones in your backpack are as wet as your current ones, but something darker will do to cover up.

When the rivers formed in what are usually trails on top of Zuneesha’s back are finally dried, you find a very interesting construction ahead. Curious, as always, you come closer to discover it is a shrine.

“What a beautiful place” you comment in awe. Law seems to be anywhere else. He is probably near, but not close to you.

Curious, you put a step inside the shrine. It isn’t necessarily different from the rest of the temples you have attended in this long journey of piracy. However, somehow in the aura feels unusual to you.

The scent of incense smells more flowery, sweet, maybe even a little bit spicy. The Vitreaux windows create incredible depictions of Orchids on the ground, as the sun filters its rains through them. And the altar has a very distinctive little statue that calls for your hand to touch.

“I wonder what’s this shrine about? What god is meant to be built for?  In fact, do Minks have gods?” you ask yourself, making mental notes to ask Wanda once you are back from your expedition.

Your eyes scan the golden sculpture, it looks like two creatures tangled into each other. You would lie if you said you didn’t think of them having sex, and in fact you giggle for your “witty” thoughts.

There isn’t much to discover besides what you have just seen, but a little sign engraved in an old piece of wood.

“you shall keep your blood flowing; the warriors of the Sun must never disappear; they will fight for freedom and unity during this dark night”

You smile; and immediately after reading you remember Luffy. Even Law recognizes he is as shiny as the Sun itself. You don’t really think much of the true meaning of the sign, and soon after find Law looking at you from the very entrance.

“I turned around and you were gone, I didn’t know where you were” he asks, still soaking wet like a cat left out in the rain and looking a little bit mad at you for disappearing.

You could have picked a fight; you probably could have just brushed it off. But neither of those were your reaction, and unconsciously you lift your arms to stretch. The white shirt, still soaking wet, kept the transparency and with that the show off of your hard nipples presented to Law in its full beauty.

“I’m sorry, I was looking for a place to change” you tell him, with a rather sexy tone.

Law’s sun burnt cheeks turn red, golden eyes widening, pupils getting bigger. The little hints of black eyeliner smudge on his already dark tinted under eyes, the juicy pale lips of your captain slowly separating.

“You thought of changing on a shrine? Getting naked on a temple, (Name)-ya?” he asks, coming closer to you as he lets his yellow bag fall on the floor. Law walks like a snow leopard, slowly, menacing, sexily…

You swallow. That’s not his usual self, not at least with you. He looks like he is about to fight you, or even hurt you.

“L-Law, I wanted to put on a shirt over this one so that my breasts won-“ you shut up, as he strikes you and pins you against the altar.

You put your arms back to get a grip of something as you lose balance. Your hand reaches something cold and tiny and immediately after, his warm inked hand falls on top of yours.

Both, at the same time, touch the little statue behind and it feels like a new energy begins to run through your veins. It doesn’t take you long to finally succumb into a lustful, inappropriate kiss. His hands, all over your waist, lift the wet shirt that’s begun to get hot and too heavy on your skin.

“I have no idea what force is making me do this, but believe me I am not mad about it, (Name)-ya” Law whispers, in between panting and with his lips grazing yours.

“I have no idea either, but don’t you dare stop…”

The Surgeon of Death attacks your lips once again, this time while freeing you completely from your wet coverings… even if, something else in you was getting wetter by the moment.

Maybe it was the force of doing something so incorrect, so unholy on a sacred place… or maybe it was your love? Or even, both? Who knows, perhaps it was something else but the more you kiss, the more your bodies slide down until your back hits the red carpet covered floor.

Law’s tattooed hands squeeze and play with your breasts, almost like a beast ready to engulf his prey. “You wanted me to do this, don’t you?” he asks, reaching for one of your hard nipples, kissing the erected surface and then trapping it with his lips.

“Honestly, yes. I missed your touch…” you moan, realizing you are finally able to indulge in sex. It’s been long enough since you could touch each other, since you could be this intimate.

“I know, I’m sorry…” he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your chest.

You know there is nothing to forgive, and immediately after you notice his stitched arm holding the weight of his body on top of you.

“Law… can I be on top this time?” you ask, kissing the scar of his biceps.

His golden eyes shine brightly, apparently he loved the question and nods energetically, even if he felt embarrassed seconds after for doing so.

Soon, you take his place, undressing him faster and straddling your hips on his lap. He is hard, and the grey underwear completely soaked let nothing to the imagination. Deliciously tempting, you feel the impulse to your use your mouth before anything else, but the need of having him inside you is stronger… something invisible is making you desire his seed would fill your womb on and on and on.

You lift your ass from his lap, just a little for your hand to pass through your moved to the side panties and his hardness.

Law gasps when he understands you are not there to waist time on any other type of pleasure that his dick deep inside you.

“Now? but I don’t- I don’t have prot-“ he stutters, fighting in between the need of fucking you rough and reproduction health matters.

“You don’t really need it, I want you raw and rough in me…” you purr, guiding his sex towards your dripping entrance.

Your labia devours his tip, engulfing it with a warm slippery sensation. Law’s neck muscles tense, his head gets thrown back, a moan escapes his lips that resonates all over the shrine.

You do the same as you let yourself fall on top of him for his shaft to be finally entirely inside you. A whine so loud that mixes with his, and it becomes never ending as you start to hump on top of him.

Your hips move up and down, back, and forth and also in circles. Law’s fingers carve marks on the side of your hips and sometimes travel to the small of your back to press you against him with divine force. His hips, who up until now where immobile as pleasure struck him harder than he could ever expected, begin to move too.

“Nggh… let me fuck you faster…” he moans, using all of his strength coming from his core to impale you harder and synchronized to the rhythm of your jumps. The sound of wet sweaty skin slapping against the other become a sacred melody all around, while your nails carve marks as you grip from his heart tattooed pecs.

It doesn’t take you longer for your climaxes to arrive, and while your fingers intertwined with Law’s, your spasming walls milk him so violently… so needy, desperate for his release…

His frown intensifies, he even bites his lower lip but his eyes never shut as his pupils only fix into yours. As if his gaze was trying to anticipate something both knew, willingly to do whatever it takes to make his seed plant on you… deep, inside, of you.

“Fill me up…” “Keep it all inside…”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ...

“Wanda, may I ask you something?” you tap on her soft furry shoulder.

“Yes, honey. Tell me, what is it? Are you ok? You look very tired” the mink says, curious and perhaps a little worried about your state… truth Law wasn’t satisfied with just one round.

“So, I found a Shrine on the forest. It had a little statue; I didn’t get exactly what it was representing. But I remember reading a sign that said something about the warriors of the sun should prevail” you explain.

Wanda giggles. “Well, now I know why you are that tired… you went there with Trafalgar, didn’t you? it’s the procreation shrine, ruled by the sun lovers. That’s where we go to pray when we wanna bear children.. it said to be special forces that help us get pregnant”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Oh…”

[kvrokasaa]

omg i was js thinking abt timeskip kaiser, a renowed pro football player, attending some celebrity event and seeing his mother there SKDJEK 🫨 can you plspls make it a short angsty(?) story w a happy ending pls our boy deserves it :(

take care <3

I tried to make it as angsty as I could, but I probably just made a comfort fic, I'm sorry!

Cw: mention of food, mentions of mother's leaving, kaiser being sad, crying, comfort, angst(?), happy ending, comforting kaiser helps cope with the recent chapter :(, not proofread, 1.5k words

“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” you whisper over to Kaiser, your voice trailing off to a quiet giggle. A smile reaches his face when he hears your giggle, you never fail to brighten his mood. “Do what, meine liebe?” He questions, the pet name rolls off his tongue with such ease, that you’re sure he practices saying it every day.

“I don’t know how you manage to attend these events and functions all the time. It’s my first time and it’s so tiring already,” you hum, grabbing a strawberry covered in chocolate. “At least there’s good food,” you finish. 

Kaiser snorts quietly. That’s what got you to come in the first place. He almost begged you to come with him, but every time he asked he was met with your quick ‘no.’ So, like the man he is, he went to underhanded tactics. He promised to get you good food, and promised that there’ll be really good food there.

You’re thankful that he didn’t lie.

“It’s about keeping up with appearances, meine liebe.” His arm circles around your waist when he sees some nobody looking at you with obvious intentions. “Do you think if I didn’t blow so much money on these stupid things people would still respect me? No. I have to come to these to show people that I’m richer and better than they will ever be.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes. But would it really be Kaiser if he didn’t say something super egotistical?

He chuckles when he sees how close you are to rolling your eyes. Although most of his words were false, some of them were true. If he didn’t come to these and spend so much money, people would not respect him. The world truly is in his hands.

“Okay you goof, I have to use the restroom,” you pressed your hands against his chest as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. “Make sure to stuff some of that food into my purse when I’m gone.” You joked.

Kaiser followed you with his eyes while you walked to the end of the ridiculously big room for the bathroom. His eyes show everything, especially his love and adoration for you. He laughs a little as he turns his attention back to the speaker. 

But something catches his eye. A slightly tall woman, with blond hair but almost gray now, no. That’s not what makes Kaiser freeze in his spot, that’s not what makes his heart beat ten times faster. It’s the unmistakable red eyeliner. 

Anyone could apply red eyeliner, he tries to reason with himself. Kaiser tries his best to divert his attention back to the speaker, but his eyes cannot seem to leave the woman. His gaze must have alerted the woman because the next second she is looking around for the person.

And when her eyes fall on him, he immediately panics. No way in hell. She can not be here. He must be hallucinating or something. He needs air, fresh air. Why can’t he breathe? 

Kaiser leaves the mansion as quickly as possible, trying to get away from the stuffy crowd. But just his luck, she follows him out. 

“My son, I have been looking for you.”

You leave the bathroom, with your disgust intensified. Why are rich people so weird? Couldn’t that couple have gone home? Who in their right mind would be doing that during a fundraiser? 

A sigh escapes your lips as you make your way to the crowd, ready to tell Kaiser what you just witnessed. 

But when you get back to the table of food, he’s gone. You swear that he wouldn’t just leave you, and he would’ve texted you if he moved somewhere else. Maybe he had gone to the restroom too?

After searching for a little, you end up spotting his blonde and blue hair. But you see a person standing if front of him and he isn’t moving at all. Your brows furrow in a quizzical manner, who is that?

“No.” You hear him say, it was more of a demand than anything. “You’re lying.” The woman in front of him shakes her head, a soft expression on her face. “You may think that, but we both know it’s not true.” She opens her arms, her hands awaiting his shoulders as to pull him into her embrace. 

“It’s me, your mother.” Your eyes widen, why is she here? Why did she decide to come back now of all times?

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” your tone is soft while you look at Michael, a worried expression on your face. “But Michael and I should really be going.” “Who are you?” Her soft expression never falls, almost like she got it implanted onto her face. But you can see the truth, the deception, the root of her lies. She’s only here for the spotlight. She wants to be seen as his mother, as his savior. But you know that she will only ruin him. She will only make him fall deeper into the black hole.

“Oh, I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news,” you start. You look at Michael’s mother, your soft expression immediately faltering. “I’m Michael’s fiancee. It’s very nice to meet you.” You give her a fake soft smile. You don’t want to seem too rude, but you know kindness with a person like this will only lead to your ruin.

“Ah, I thought you were his chafure. You seem awfully-” “Stop.” She turns her attention back to Michael, her faux softness resurfacing. “My dear, you seem tired. Why don’t we-” “No.” He can’t get his head around this whole situation. Why has she come back? Why did she choose now to come back? Does she want money, is that it? Maybe she just wants to be seen with him. Maybe she needs her acting career back and the only way she can get noticed is with Michael.

But he doesn’t want any of that. He tried so hard to look for her, and now she shows up out of nowhere. 

Michael feels like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. 

His mom tries to reach out again, but Michael is too preoccupied to notice. So, you step in, your body in the middle of both of them. Your glare is icy, never relenting when you see his mother’s expression falter. She seems to be caught up in her own little world. Does she not know the damage she created? How dare she walk back into his life like he owes her everything.

No, she owes him everything.

“I don’t know you, but I know of you. I know what kind of person you are and it’s fucking disgusting.” Your tone is sharp as if laced with venom, and it cuts right through her little facade. You can see the second her fake kindness leaves, and you’re left with the disgust and hatred that Kaiser should have. 

“You are not allowed to walk back into Michael’s life when it’s convenient for you. You don’t get to do that. That’s not fair to him at all. 

Do you know how many times he’s tried to find you? You don’t, do you? He’s tried almost his entire life to find you, to find some sort of comfort in his mother. But you left him. You left a child all by himself with someone neither of you could’ve trusted. 

Do you know the first thing he said to me when I first hugged him? He thanked me. He thanked me for being there, for letting him breathe. He has constant thoughts that I’m going to leave him because of your mistakes.

And if you’re a good mother, if you truly missed him, you would’ve reached out in the past and apologized for everything. But you didn’t.

So no. I’m sorry, but not. You do not get to walk back into Michael’s life right now. He can reach out if and when he truly wants to. Please leave.”

Michael’s mother juts her chin up, a little huff leaving her mouth before she walks away. You truly thought that you wedged a block between Kaiser and his mother. You’re scared that if you turn around, you’ll see the hurt and betrayal across his face.

But that’s not it in the slightest. Kaiser is so proud to be called yours at this moment. He’s so very grateful to you. He has never had someone stick up for him in this way before.

Yes, he always acts as if nothing can bother him, even if he shows it on his face a little. But at this moment, he realizes that he wants to be held by you, he wants you to nurture him and to care for him. He wants to turn to you for things he has never received in his life.

Before he knows it, tears gather in his eyes, threatening to spill along his cheeks. His body moves on its own as he makes his way to you.

“Thank you,” his arms looped around your waist, his hold tightening ever so slightly. You thank the Lord that everyone has left or else everyone would see Kaiser crying and you know that he hates showing that to the world. 

You let those thoughts leave your mind, your smile growing back onto your face. “No need to thank me, my love. I meant every word and I will protect you until you’re ready to see her again.”

[monarchberrysblog]

ORAL FIXATION !!

₊˚ʚ 💉 ₊˚✧ﾟ. sweet tooth . 🦷🍨

☆ miguel o’hara x fem! reader ☆

☆ summary: a simple consult with the oral hygienist.

☆ content warning: cunnilingus, oral fixation, throat fucking, throat bulge (not mentioned but implied), choking, cum (lots, lots of cum), semi-voyeuristic behavior, latex glove kink (?), light degradation, and hair pulling.

☆ word count: 837 words

☆ author’s notes: yeah… I went to the dentist. my sick and twisted brain got to work after the consultation.

"Good girl."

".!"

Sticky as tree sap outside the bumpy bark, your saliva dripped down to the exam room's smooth grey wooden floors. A thin coating of precum and spit glistened from your chin down to your chest. A satisfied hum from the back of your throat resonates a low, lively vibration near the back of your tongue. Your knees ached from the textured wooden floor while your hands grasped his seat's sides, nails digging into the cushion.

Red knees and indented skin showed your shame. It created a sight of illusion. You only came in for a consultation, but the drool and precum in between your cleavage said otherwise. The red wine color tint on your lips contrasted your white teeth, but the color clashed so well with Miguel’s mauve tip.

"You said your jaw was hurting? Doesn't look like it now." He gently thrusts a bit of his length into your mouth, earning a gurgle-like moan.

"Shhh, I'll make it fit." Your eyes widen to the size of charger plates used during dinner time at an Olive Garden.

The bulging, misty look greets Miguel, but within your pupils, with a mere glance, anyone could have missed it.

The space is dominantly characterized by a wavering implication of ardor, which shows the intoxication behind the smudged pencil eyeliner and dilated eyes. Miguel’s gloved fingers weave into your hair, securing a hold at the back of your head. The lilac latex in his hands immediately clings to the rubber, creating more uncomfortable hair tugs. Some tugs were enough to catch a breather without his dick in your mouth.

The sight of precum decorating your lips like lipgloss churned. Then, an idea came to him, unwarranted.

The palm of his hand cups your chin, his fingers and thumb digging into the plush of your cheeks. "Open up." His words were vile, like a plague, but enticing to pursue immodest actions.

Through the grasps between his fingers and thumb, you nod, his cock near your cum-covered lips. He wears a dern expression when he sees you nod as he removes his hand from your hair and works his belt out of the belt loops of his pants instead. You open up barely enough to let the mushroom-like tip in between your lips and teeth, grazing the sensitive, taut skin. "A little more, querida."

The angry aching around your wisdom teeth knawed, a blade twisting deep into your gums, the blade's tip twirling at your nerves like cooked noodles gathered around a fork. While attempting to open, he thrusts his hips, his length choking you.

His happy trail tickles the tip of your nose, his fingers immediately weaving into your hair and keeping you there. He slowly pulls out but pulls you away from his happy trail, enough to give you more air to breathe. But the sensation of his now irritated tip found its way back in. "Let me know when you can't breathe." The muffled, wet gurgles filled the room.

The gentle humping against your throat overstimulated, but feeling lathered against the back of your throat was enough implication of what was going to happen. Miguel thrusts himself back in and doesn't allow any room for you to back down.

"Take it, sweetie." He urges, but the subtle drip of his precum landing on the floor with a 'plop' finally pushes the limit. You gurgle your words, but his length makes them inaudible. The words merge into vibrations and gnaw at the sensitive tip.

Despite him being in an uncomfortable position, his hands grasp your throat and gently squeeze your throat.

The soft thrusts evolved into harsher ones, and your nose got tickled by the sensation of his pubic hair tickling you. His fingers probed at your throat, his latex fingers feeling around until he seized and squeezed firmly. You gurgled and could feel your gag reflexes kick in. The mere panic in your eyes with your tears created a titillating sight.

Your hand continued to pat his thigh, an indirect beg for him to go easy on you.

But it only encouraged him to push down more, feeding you more nearly. "Stop it." He snaps, his hand grasping onto your wrist and pinning your hand down on the chair. "You can handle it."

"Stop squirming..." He groans and pushes himself, enough to feel the back of your throat. The soft thrusts evolved into rapid ones, feeling the mushroom-like tip bullying its way down, begging to be enveloped by your throat's warm, velvety walls.

The harsh, precise motions became sloppy, spit leaving puddles on the floor, his boxers, and chair. His low groans grew more audible, but he kept his mouth shut. He lets go of your throat and hair and seizes his movements. The warm fluid coats your aching throat, allowing it to work as aloe vera against irritated skin. The sensation overflowed, leaking out of your mouth. He pulls out his softening dick and cups your chin gently. His thumb wiped away your spit and his cum. "Doesn't seem like anything is hurting anymore."

Tag List: @cherrysxuya @awkward-platypus @pheebslu @bbb1rd

[spermeboy]

pairings: roomate!henry cavill x femboy reader

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, rough fucking, hair pulling, spanking, praising and light degrading (slurs)

MDNI + FDNI !

You had just moved to New York, and you saw Henry's apartment listing in the yellow pages. You just had to go for it. The price was just right, the place was right near your new job, It was like fate!

It was in a safe neighbourhood, so it is unlikely you would get hassled for your dress sense. You wear more feminine clothes; like skirts, crop tops, knee-high socks.

On the day you moved in, your roommate wasn't home, so you had the place to yourself. You began to unpack the boxes for your room and place your little bits around the house to give it a sense of home.

You were wearing knee-high socks, a short skirt with a pink thong underneath, and a croptop. This whole outfit complimented your body so perfectly. Whenever you wear it, it has men gasping for you, wanting to have you whimpering below them.

Henry walks into his apartment as you were bent over to try to lift something heavy out of one of your boxes, and as you bent over, your skirt had gone up to reveal your thong.

Henry admires the shape of your ass. He quickly pulls out his phone to snap a picture before scoffing to get your attention, and you swiftly turn around. "Hey, you must be my new roommate. I'm Henry. " You shake his hand and notice how thick his hand is compared to yours.

Your eyes trail up from his hand, up his biceps, and notice some of his armpit hair poking out of his arm gap. Your body shudders slightly from how hot this man is.

"Is everything okay?" Henry asks while laughing slightly, "Yeah! Totally, everything's great!" You awkwardly laugh before picking up your box and walking to your room. "Your thong compliments your ass well," Henry shouts as you walk into your bedroom. Your face goes bright red, "Oh shit." You whisper.

THE NEXT DAY

You sit on the shared couch when you hear the loud creeky bathroom door open, and out steps Henry, towel hanging loosely around his waist, water dripping down his ripped hairy body, your eyes travel down his happy trail praying that his towel drops.

Henry sits down on the chair opposite the couch, manspread. He picks up his charging phone and starts scrolling. Your eyes travel down to his crotch and you are able to see under his towel, you gasp slightly at the thick size of his cock.

Henry looks up at you after he hears you gasp, "what?" He asks innocently while staring at you. He looks down and smirks."Ohhh." He opens his legs wider."You like what you see?" You face overcome with blush, you nod slightly.

Henry gets up and drops his towel. You stare at his body as he flexes. Your mouth begins to drool, Henry's cock begin to stiffen before he walked away. "tease," you mumble.

Over the next couple of weeks, you were both teasing each other. You made sure to wear short skirts and were constantly bending over in his eyeline, and Henry would constantly have his shirt off, or he would work out while wearing grey sweatpants with no underwear underneath.

You both couldn't handle it anymore and you just gave it.

Henry walks up behind, gently pulling your hair, he whispers in your ear; "I can't handle you walking around here in those skimpy little outfits, I need to have you around my cock"

You bite your lip at the feeling of his breath against your ear, he pushes your face against the counter while lifting up your skirt, he pulls his sweatpants down, spitting on his cock. He thrusts himself deep inside of you, You gasp "H-Henry!", "you like that? You like me fucking your faggy hole" Henry grunts as he spanks your ass.

Henry continues to thrust deep inside of you while spanking your ass, "You like when Im rough with you boy?" Henry groans as you moan against the kitchen counter."Answer when I speak boy" Henry says sharply while fucking you.

"I-I love it, Daddy!" You shout, Henry grabs the back of your hair pulling you up, your back pressed against his abs. Henry's grunts in your ears cause your cock to twitch and your hole to tighten around him.

Henry pulls out of you, flipping you over. "Fuck, look at how slutty you look" He groans as he lifts your legs up, round his waist as he thrusts back into you. He places his hands against your throat, and you stick your tongue out waiting for him to spit in your mouth.

"DADDY! I'm gonna -" You shoot your load over Henry's abs, Henry pulls out and pulls you onto your knees.

Henry jerks off and blows his load over your face, coating it in his hot cum. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of your face making it his wallpaper.

Henry scoops you up and carries you to his bedroom, laying you on his bed covering you with a blanket. He stares down at you, grabbing a towel to wipe your face, "I can get used to this." Henry smirks.

[yeoslattes]

Happy Ending Status: Pending

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairings: Underground Artist!Mingi x fem!reader

Summary: Mingi was not what your family and friends wanted for you. Reality was becoming too real and maybe they were right but you struggled to leave him.

Songs to listen to: Tunnel-Song Mingi, Star Shopping-Lil Peep, Romantic Homicide-D4vd

Warnings: TW! Toxic relationship tendencies, toxic Mingi, smut, lots of crying, slight slow burn, weed use, financial issuesMingi is pretty bad to her at the beginning, he's lowkey a bum, Mingi yells at her once, simp!Mingi, one of his friends makes a bad comment abt reader, Wooyoung is an asshole, reader is a good girl, he's possessive of her, soft Dom!Mingi, oral m receiving, big dick Mingi (lets be real), gagging, lots of spit, slight throat fucking, Mingi holds her down a couple of times, choking, unprotected sex asf, creampie, Mingi cries after sex, use of slut like once, praising

A/N: *big sigh* something about the plot was so hard to write for me lol. I had mentioned that I didn't want to make Mingi too toxic but in the editing process it was almost inevitable so I had to do what I had to do to make it work. He's not scary, he's just a big simp in this lmao. I added songs as well, Star Shopping is what inspired me and Tunnel is what I imagine Mingi looking like in this, Romantic Homicide is for the vibes. Also to clear up any confusion, she's in college bc her parents pay for it aside from that she gets no allowance from them, since she wanted to move with Mingi so bad her parents let her fend for herself (stupid girl). I hope you Pookies enjoy, as always thank you for all the love mwah <3

The bass boomed through the entire establishment. The floor shook, soundwaves rolling up your body. A small smile plays at your lips at the sight of your boyfriend performing on stage. Your eyes curiously watched the girls in the front row who were ready to risk it all for Song Mingi.

The song comes to an end and people cheered loudly, you clap for your boyfriend as he comes off stage pressing a kiss against your lips. “I have some business to deal with first baby, I’ll be back soon.” You nod and clutch the jacket draped over your arms, suddenly feeling exposed now that Mingi had left you.

You take a seat, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, soon enough Mingi comes back looking more pissed than ever. His eyebrows are drawn together with a stoic expression replacing his usual smile. Your face falls, “hey what’s going on?” You ask worriedly, placing a hand on his arm. He shakes his head, “he’s not paying me.” He grumbles, you feel your heart sink. “Mingi that’s not okay-“ you begin, but he ignores you, instead walking towards Yunho and Hongjoong who were standing beside the stage.

Your lips subconsciously fall into a pout, trailing after him. You knew how Mingi was when he was upset and the fact that he was with friends didn’t help either; you hated who he became when he was around them. Walking a couple steps behind them and excusing yourself as you walked through the crowd, you watched as Yunho whispered something in Mingi’s ear. Your boyfriend nods and turns to look at you. “I’ll be right back babe.” He says not even giving you time to respond. You stand alone for a second time tonight. You huff plopping down on one of the booth seats.

You wait and wait, it had been almost 25 minutes since Mingi had left. Your eyes skimmed the crowd in search of him with no luck. He’d blown you off, when you figured he really wasn’t coming back you got up and started looking for him. Your heart felt like it was hanging by the finest thread, one minimal tug and it’d be gone. You spent the majority of your night pushing through sweaty bodies looking for your missing boyfriend.

Everyone sported leather, dark eyeliner, piercings, while the darkest color on your outfit was the pleated black skirt and black tights you had worn, your cashmere sweater being no fit to the aesthetic. Your hands were starting to shake, and your breathing became slightly labored as you continued to skim the club for a tall Mingi.

People had started to notice you, giving you weird looks as you kept making rounds around the club. Your mind began to race, the more you looked the more you felt like the crowd was close to swallowing you up. You spot the exit and make a beeline for it, your tears already falling freely down your cheeks. “E-excuse me.” You mumbled pushing through a couple, the girl looked at you, her eyebrow piercing moving up as she cocked her brow up at your state. Stepping out into the fresh air you finally felt like you could breathe.

***

Your white sneakers heavily hit the ground, dirty water soaking the mid rise crew socks you wore from all the puddles you had stepped in but you didn’t care. You continued your journey back to yours and Mingi’s apartment. You quickly went up the stairs to the second floor, ducking your head as you passed your creepy neighbor who’s eyes never left your shivering frame. You unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind you with a loud sigh. The wooden door creaked under your weight as you rested against it. You feel a knot forming in your throat and you can't help the sob that rips through you. Your legs give out and you melt down into a puddle of tears. Your hand clutches your phone tightly, looking at the absurd amount of times you had dialed Mingi, each one going straight to voicemail.

You numbly pick yourself up off the floor and go into the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror you almost feel bad for yourself; but this was the life you had chosen. Your hair is frizzed up and your makeup is basically gone. You begin reflecting on what your  life had become, the voices of your parents and friends echoed through your head, and you were truly starting to believe that you should've listened to them. After standing your ground against them for so long and always defending Mingi, things were not what they seemed anymore, nothing like the delusions you had put in your head. And so now here you were, heart hanging by a thread as you desperately waited for your boyfriend to come home; no clue on his whereabouts or who he was with aside from his friends.

***

You had met Mingi freshman year of university, you were enamoured with who he was, with the way he dressed, all dark and mysterious yet sweet and cunning. Mingi knew right away he wasn’t someone your family particularly wanted for you, not as a friend and much less as a boyfriend. They hated Mingi’s lifestyle and were confused on how you could be so enthralled with someone like him. Someone who barely made it in college, who was obsessed with making it big in the music industry and would rather focus on that than a promising career. However, the way he spoke about his passion for music made you believe in him and for a second you did, until a couple months turned into a year, and a year turned into 2 and now at almost 3 years barely anything had changed. You convinced yourself it was fine, but reality was catching up to you quickly.

Truth was, you and Mingi were broke, you could barely afford rent and food was scarce majority of the time. Frugal wasn’t even the word to describe how tight you two were with money. You hated this life, coming from a well off family, you had never struggled with money this way. You never minded working to earn your money, but even while working it still was not enough. With your last required courses to graduate, you had to cut back on your hours, leaving only Mingi working full time. The little amount of money he made, he’d spend on music equipment and recording studio fees that he clearly couldn't afford. At some point the little amount of money you had saved up, you had to start using to buy groceries and home essentials. By the time you rechecked your savings you had nothing.

***

Your body cried for sleep, the longer you tried to stay awake the more your body fought against you that eventually you fell asleep on the couch. Around 2:30 in the morning, the front door unlocks and in walks Mingi, quietly looking around for you. When he doesn’t hear any noise he pads further into the room. He’s startled when he spots your sleeping form on the couch. Clearly you had been waiting for him, and he felt terribly bad that he had blown you off at some random club that you had never been to. Mingi was good at being impulsive and acting on his emotions rather than thinking logically. Of course he was pissed that the gig host had ripped him off but that didn’t mean had the right to ditch you; and only now that his cloudy head was clearing up did he realize that.

He sighs and leans over the back of the couch, resting a hand on your arm. He shakes you slightly, slowly you rise from your slumber. You squint, waiting for your eyes to adjust and focus on the person in front of you. When you realize it’s Mingi you fly off the couch, backing away from him. “Ba-” He starts, “It’s almost 3am and now you wanna ‘baby’ me?” He straightens up and throws his head back in annoyance, knowing exactly where this was going. “I’m tired, I don't want to do this right now.” He grumbles walking towards the bedroom. 

Sadness fills you at his dismissive behavior; there's no way he doesn’t care, you thought. Your lips contort into a frown, “Mingi…what is wrong with you?” You say quietly, the knot returning to your throat. You trail after him once again like a lost puppy. He shakes his head, “nothing princess.” But you didn’t believe him. He pulls his shirt off and looks at your small frame lingering by the door. He takes in your disheveled appearance and his gaze softens. “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have left you there.” He says, his heart feeling heavy at your sadness. You had nothing to do with how his gigs went, therefore, you should be the last person he should be getting mad at. When you sniffle slightly and look down he walks over to you, his large frame engulfing you completely. You inhale the smell of weed and faded cologne in, feeling yourself get drunk off him; and just like that things were okay again for the time being.

***

Not even a week later you and Mingi were caught in a screaming match. “It’s not my fault these places don't pay me.” He argues.” You stared at him hard, feeling your eyes twitch from pure anger. “Actually it is your fault, cause you keep agreeing like a dumbass not knowing what you’re getting into. And you look even dumber buying more recording equipment that we clearly cannot afford.” This time you argued over the fact that he hadn’t gotten paid yet again, while he kept spending money on useless equipment. “Well it is my money.” Mingi retorts desperately trying to find a way to put this argument to bed. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, you felt completely hopeless. “Well if it's your money then you find a way to pay for this apartment, and do everything yourself because I am leaving.” 

In full panic, anger and everything in between you stormed into your shared room. You pull a pink duffle bag that your parents had gifted you and begin stuffing all the clothes and belongings you could fit. You run back into the kitchen and grab a trash bag to throw makeup, jewelry and shoes; everything else that couldn’t fit into the straining duffle bag.

You aggressively wipe your tears, pausing when you spot Mingi blocking the doorway. “Where are you going?” He asks, his eyes slightly wide, “I don’t want to be here anymore” You mumbled, attempting to zip up the bag that was clearly too over filled. He shakes his head, panic rising within him, he comes close to you and you step back. He shakes his head rapidly, “You’re not leaving me!” He screams, making you flinch. His breathing is heavy, tears pooling in his eyes. “Please baby, I’m sorry. You’re right, okay, you’re right.” He begs, big hands reaching for yours but you pull back. 

“Mingi…stop it, I’m tired of the excuses okay? I‘m tired.” You say quietly. You eyes can’t meet his, scared that you were going to change your mind. “I just don’t see us going anywhere anymore…” His brows furrow at your words, “what are you talking about.” He whimpers,

“Stop it!” You yell, he takes a step back startled at your loudness. “Stop acting like you don’t see how shitty our lives are. I need you to get your shit together please.” You wipe the tears that are still running down your cheeks, “Be realistic for once Mingi.” You grab your duffel to which Mingi grips onto the traps as well, blocking you off from the door. “Let go.” You grit, yanking the bag from his grip. He stumbles back slightly. He watches you leave, eyesight blurry from the salty liquid, “you’ll be b-back.” He chokes up. But he actually wasn’t sure about that anymore.

Mingi fell in love with you from the second he saw you, you were just so…you. It was a feeling he couldn’t describe. He always knew the thing he liked the most about you two as a pair was the fact that you were so opposite. He had tattooed his hands and neck with some of the prettiest tattoos you had ever seen. He always wore rings that decorated his big hands all pretty, and of course the staple that was his black polish.

You on the other hand were so clean for lack of a better word. The colors you wore were always as bright as the sky on a sunny day, in contrast to Mingi’s daily color palette. You were like a breath of fresh air, and he wanted you, he craved you. Eventually he got you, the road was rough with your parent’s disapproval and what not, but you two persevered; he got you to move in with him and his plans on making it big in the music industry were definitely going, except he was getting nowhere; it was like a journey with no end.

Mingi felt that no matter what he tried, however he tried it, there was always something in the way. He was paying for studio sessions, recording song after song to release and perform at gigs, and even though he spent loads of money on those studio fees he hoped for the day that he wouldn't have to worry about money anymore. But the process was easier said than done because he knew how tired you were of him not being able to give it a rest. Aside from all of that and being aware of your feelings he always thought you’d stick around for a bit longer for him to show you he could do it.

He saw the way he had drained the life out of you, your once glowy skin had been replaced by dullness. Your once vibrant eyes had turned sad accompanied by dark circles and bags. He had ruined you.

***

Today marks 1 month since you left. Mingi had been rotting away in his apartment, only leaving the house to work, then coming back, showering, eating whatever he could find and going to bed. He had lost count of how many times he had called and texted you. But it seemed that you had blocked him. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he hadn’t spoken to his friends or gone out in a while. He’d cut himself off completely. “Get your shit together.” Your words echoed, your pretty face stained with tears as you looked up with hurt in your eyes ingrained in his brain. 

Mingi laid on the couch, eyes dazed off into space from the blunt he had smoked. When all of a sudden…“Mingi?” A voice called faintly in his head, “Jesus Mingi.” The voice said again except this time he felt hands shake him. He looked at his friend who removed him from the daydream. 

“What the hell is going on man? I’ve been trying to reach you.” Yunho said desperately, “I thought you were dead.” The panicked friend said, looking around with wide eyes at the mess in the apartment. “She- she left.” Mingi mumbles, sticking his face into his hands. Yunho’s face softens, “oh-.” Had he known, he would have approached him in a more gentle manner. 

“I’m sorry Mingi.” It’s the only thing that comes to mind. Awkward silence fills the air, Yunho having no idea what else to say. “How’s it going?” Mingi suddenly asks. Yunho shrugs, “some group that played frequently at Cyberpunk Club got a record deal a couple weeks back. You’ve missed a lot man.” At Yunho’s words, Mingi’s heart drops, of course, he thought. It would never be him, and now that you were gone it didn’t matter to him anymore; he’d given up. 

Mingi sniffles slightly, standing up and adjusting his dark jeans, “I have work in an hour so imma head out now.” He didn’t mean to be dismissive but he couldn’t bear thinking about his losses right now. The dark haired man stands up, a perplexed look on his face. “Oh right, well there’s a party tonight let me know if you’ll be there. It could be good, you know, to get out of the house for a while.” Yunho wears a tight lipped smile searching Mingi’s face for some type of life or excitement but he gets nothing. “Yeah I’ll let you know.” Yunho waves goodbye and closes the door quietly behind him leaving Mingi with his thoughts again. He grabs his phone and dials you again, your call has been forwarded to automated vo- he hangs up, annoyance rising up within him. It was pointless now, you weren’t going to speak to him ever again, he accepted defeat and grabbed the small backpack he always carried to work and headed over.

The strip mall was busy, no surprise as it was only Saturday. The customers came in periodic waves, right now Mingi sat in boredom as a single customer sat in the shop sipping on her smoothie. Mingi rests his chin in the palm of his hand, scrolling through your instagram. You may have blocked his number but you had forgotten him on social media. In that moment he’s about to message you when suddenly a loud cackle catches his attention. He looks up expecting to see a random person walking by, but his heart drops when he spots you. As always you were dressed in light colors, you looked good, you looked better. His heart sinks lower, bile rising up his throat the longer you lingered outside with your group of friends. 

Your glow had returned, you looked so alive and happy; he was selfish so in a way he hated that. This was his chance to speak to you, since you had been neglecting him for so long now, not even bothering to come by to pick up some of the stuff you had left behind. He hops off the stool, smoothening down the apron he wore. He steps outside, the door opening catching your attention, your face falls at the slightly disheveled state of your once lover. 

Your friends all fall silent, eyes drifting between Mingi and you. “Um, I’ll catch up to you guys, give me a sec.” You say, the closest girl standing to you, places her hand on your forearm. “Hey ar-” she starts but you wave her off, “it’s okay, I’ll catch up.” You say plastering a smile. You watch as your friends walk away, when there’s decent distance between you and them you turn to Mingi. 

“Mingi-.” You looked up at him with big eyes, a wave of sadness overcoming you. “Hey, glad to know you’re doing okay. Also didn’t know you had guards now.” He says. He doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding aggressive but it does. Surprise flashes in your face momentarily at his harsh tone, but could you blame him?  

Deciding you didn’t want to deal with this you turn around to walk away but he stops you, wrapping his hand around your bicep. “Wait, I’m sorry. I’ve been on edge.” He apologizes, you nod silently, waiting for him to continue.

“I just want to talk about…us.” Mingi pleads with big eyes, you pause for a moment. Your eyes linger on the clear lid of your coffee cup, when you don’t say anything Mingi proceeds. “I just wish you’d given me a chance to talk it out with you, but you just upped and left.” He sounds slightly irritated, and that’s when you crack, “no disrespect Mingi, but that’s very audacious of you. Every single argument or discussion we've had about this you have told me the same thing yet you don’t bother to change it. My patience ran thin.” 

Mingi tongues his cheek, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking out into the parking lot; deep down he knew you were right. He stays silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air, “I just want you back, we can work on it together.” You shake your head, when he sees you take a step back his hands reach out for you again, hovering above your shoulders, never quite making contact, “don’t leave please.” He begged, people walking by turned to look at the exchange. “Mingi.” You whisper yell looking around slightly embarrassed at the unnecessary attention. “Can we not do this?”

“Come over so we can talk please. At least give me that and I won’t bother you again.” He promises, but you and him both knew it was a lie. “No matter how much I want to get back with you, I won’t until you get your shit together.” You remind him, “and about me coming over…I don’t know.” Mingi frowns at your words, “do you have someone else already is that it?” You’re shocked at the way he jumps to conclusions. “Mingi that is not it, it’s just…kind of weird if we are trying to get over each other.” He rolls his eyes, “speak for yourself, but I’m not trying to get over you. I won’t stop until I get you alone at least one more time. There’s so much we need to talk about.” You wanted to stand on business but for some reason he always had you giving in. You toss your head back, a slight groan ripping from your throat. You nod your head ‘yes’, swallowing hard and meeting his eyes, “okay.” Your voice is airy from slight nerves.

He watches your back as you walk away from him once more; except this time under different circumstances. When he steps back into the smoothie shop, his face drops at the scowl his manager gives him and the long line of customers waiting for their order to be taken. “Glad to know you resolve your relationship problems while on the clock.” The stubby man says to him.

After his shift Mingi flops on his bed, he closes his eyes, the clear picture of your face behind his eyelids, and he smiles sheepishly. You two had left it that you’d be the one letting him know when you were free given your tight schedule. Mixed in with his happiness is a tinge of anger and fear. Anger because suddenly you didn’t have time for him and fear because he didn’t want you seeing anyone else, you could’ve been lying about that for all he knew. He whips his phone out when it vibrates, hoping it’d be you but it’s Yunho telling him to come to the party. He dials your number for a second time that day and when it goes straight to voicemail the slight happiness he felt fades away. Why hadn’t you unblocked him? He wonders. His mind races, desperately looking for reasons to feel better but when nothing comes to mind he gets up abruptly and changes out of his work clothes and into a casual outfit.

***

Now here was Mingi at a random house party, a girl on one side of him as he conversed with Wooyoung Yunho, and Hongjoong. “I heard your ex girl moved into a nice ass apartment in the city.” Wooyoung says, peeling a pistachio and tossing it in his mouth. He looks at Mingi waiting for him to say something but he keeps his reaction bottled in, she didn’t mention that, he thinks. Yunho slaps Wooyoung’s arm, bringing a hand under his chin and waving it, signaling Wooyoung to cut it out. “Sensitive topic I see,” Yunho rolls his eyes as the shorter man keeps nagging on. “Nah it doesn’t matter.” Mingi suddenly says, one of his hands traveling further down to rest on the random girl's waist. Mingi felt disappointed in himself, angry that the girl next to him wasn’t you. But since you had yet to unblock him, he figured you wouldn’t anyway and said a big fuck it to the universe and got himself a temporary distraction.

Wooyoung smirks, “yeah it’s probably daddy’s money.” He says, Mingi chuckles, sipping on his beer, “definitely daddy’s money.” Mingi disses; Yunho looks at him with a confused expression, this was the same man that was crying over you a couple hours ago. 

“Crazy you were hitting that Mingi, should’ve kept her around if she has big bucks like that.” At Wooyoung’s words, Mingi’s face drops, “you better fucking watch it.” He points a finger at the dark haired man. “Who gives a shit man you’re not with her anymore.” He presses on, Mingi stands up and leaves. Yunho shakes his head at Wooyoung. “Shut the fuck up rat, you always ruin everything.” He spits, Wooyoung chuckles, sinking into the worn down couch sipping on his beer, clearly satisfied at the reaction. 

Mingi walks home not taking a second longer to process what was said at the party. He felt icky at the fact that he had even gone. He hated the way they spoke about you, if only they knew how he truly felt for you maybe they wouldn’t have said that. To him you were more than a gorgeous face, more than sex more than anything physical; you were the love of his life.

***

A couple of days after the encounter with Mingi at the mall, you sat on your couch, phone in hand, contemplating whether you wanted to call him or not. You knew how Mingi was, it was clear he was desperate and since you had taken a while to reach out to him the poor guy was losing it. In all honesty you were afraid that talking to him again would have you going back and history would repeat itself. After breaking up with him the first couple of weeks sucked. You stayed in bed all day, dazed off in class and took multiple breaks during your lectures to cry in the bathroom. You missed him so much, and a month later you still did, but you were better; like a heavy load was lifted off your shoulders. You hated that this was the reality you had to face, no matter how much you craved him and wanted him back, it was not ideal.

You sighed, placing your head in your hands, “I just have to do it.” You whispered, hyping yourself up. Here’s my address, just let the front desk person you’re here to see me, they’ll let you through. See you at 5. You pressed send, hands shaking slightly. You felt your lunch coming back up, a pit forming within you. You took a shower, dressed in something cute and casual, why were you getting ready? You had no idea, actually you did, you just liked lying to yourself.

“Good afternoon miss, Song Mingi is here to see you.” The front desk person said into the phone, “that’s okay let him through.” You reply, hanging up and wiping your clammy hands on your pants.

Pounding on your door makes you jump slightly. When you pull the door open Mingi stands there. “Oh hey.” You greet in a breathy tone trying your best to be casual, you pull the door open wider. He steps through, immediately looking around at your apartment that was nowhere near close to what your shared space looked like. “Nice place.” He says admiring the art decorating the walls, and gawking at the view into the city. 

While he was busy with that you took a second to drink him. As always he was dressed in dark colors, you could tell he had messily applied some eyeliner and shadow on his eyes, adding to the grunge look he sported. He looked extremely good, and you wanted to slap yourself. “Thank you, my parents helped me out.” You locked the door and followed him further into the living room area. “Okay Mingi, I don’t mean to sound hasty but why are you truly here?” You looked at him curiously, interested in what he had to say and praying it wasn’t the same bull crap he’d said many times before. “I want you back.” He said boldly, “Min-.” He suddenly stands up, looming over your sitting form, your eyes go wide with surprise, “no! You don’t understand how much I need you in my life. I’ve been fucking miserable since you left. You got me reflecting on my entire fucking existence. Trying to figure out what I can do to fix this. I’m in love with you, you know that already, but I’m convinced you’re the love of my life and I'd be willing to give up my music if that means I get to have you back.” You sat there speechless, your legs and arms completely numb feeling like you weren't allowed to move. The man who always felt sheepish speaking his emotions to you was suddenly boasting in your living room about how you were the love of his life and you didn’t know what to do. He stares at you with puppy eyes, waiting for you to say something, his face falling at your extended silence. You stand up to face him, your soft hands coming up to his flushed cheeks. You watch him melt into your touch, “I know that right now I’m not really worth it. But please let me show you.” He opens his eyes back up, his big brown orbs boring into yours.

Your teeth sink into your pink lips and you nod up at him. You push on your tippy toes and he leans down to meet your lips; you had folded. Large hands come to grip your biceps to pull you slightly back. You fall back flat on your feet looking up at him with that stare that always drove him insane, the very one he fell in love with way back when. He pulls you back in, pressing his lips against yours again, the kiss grows hungrier as the seconds tick by. 

He’s tugging on your sweatpants that were a size too big, easily sliding them off you. They pool at your feet, his hands come and grip on the flesh of your ass, his cold rings leaving a slight indentation on the supple skin. You groan into his mouth, enjoying the feeling of him all over you. “Mingi.” You whimper, pulling away from him to look into his dark eyes, “did you miss me princess?” He coos lowly, you pout and nod all morals gone out the door; you just wanted him. 

You didn’t care about your decision on the status of your relationship or if this would be the last time you saw him like this, that could all wait; what mattered was right now. He pulls you along with him, he freely navigates your apartment, finding your bedroom with no problem. He kisses you again, cornering you into the bed, his large hands cup your face pulling you as close as he could. You grip his wrists pulling them away from your face and pushing him slightly back to take off the bleach designed hoodie he wore. His necklaces fall back against his smooth chest as he pulls the thick hoodie off. He tosses the item somewhere in the carpet of the room before eagerly pulling your tank top off. You sink to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest. 

He looks down at you, the liner and shadow somehow making him ten times more attractive. Your thighs press together, your fragile fingers working over time to get the belt off, the buckle is so thick you struggle to undo it. Finally unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his cock bounces fully erect from the makeout. His hand slides up and down the expanse of his thick cock, “open.” He murmurs, guiding it between your parted lips.

The sheer size stretches your mouth as far as it can go, you fully struggle to take him in. The longer your mouth is open, the more spit pools. You wrap your lips around the tip and suck lightly, coating him in your slobber. Slowly you take him further until he hits the back of your throat, you gag slightly and he groans. His fingers brush your hair back, watching as you struggle to take him all the way back, “good girl baby. Just a little bit more for me.” He says gently placing a hand on the crown of your head to push further into your mouth. You gag again, tears stinging your eyes and spit running down your chin and neck, soaking the edge of the bra you wore. He bucks slightly when you flatten your tongue to run deliciously on the underside of him. 

The more your tongue runs on him the more spit coats him, he lets out a choked breath at the sudden change, speeding up his hips slightly until your hands delicately press against his thighs to push back. A thick string of saliva connects from your lips to his tip, finally breaking off when you pull further away. You suck in a breath, trying to calm down the nausea roaming in your stomach from your gag reflex. “You okay?” Mingi hums cupping your wet chin to look up at him. You nod and he smiles, you take him back in your mouth, your small hand working on what you couldnt fit. You take him down your throat. His breathing picks up once again, eyes rolling to the back of his head, when you try to pull back he holds you still. The thick head of his cock lodged in your throat. Finally he lets you pull away, leaving you practically wheezing for air. He helps you up and you rest your back on the bed. Mingi hovers above you, his eyes taking you in as if he hadn’t seen this view a hundred times before, but he always made sure to appreciate it. Mingi tugs your bra down the undergarment now resting around your waist, he plays with the hard buds but you needed him now, so you pull him onto you. Ignoring you were still in your underwear you move it to the side desperately, as if you didn’t have all the time in the world. You take him in your hand guiding him into your wet hole. 

He looks down looking where you two would be connecting. Pushing in, you grimace at the slight burn from not having him in you for a long time. You squirm the more he goes in. He holds you down, fully diving into you, “shhh it’s okay baby, you’re taking me so well. My good girl.” 

When he hits your hilt you groan, “Mingi please.” He looks at your already fucked out face. He sets a brutal pace, your eyes roll when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. You moan loudly, panting from the lewd activity. Your mouth drops open, and your back arches, his grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you to meet his hips. Your eyes roll back, nails desperately digging into his strong forearms. One of his hands drops from your waist, his tattooed fingers coming up to your mouth. They feel heavy on your wet tongue, he speeds up dragging his fingers out and running his hand down your chin to let it rest on your throat. Your body jolts with every single thrust, inching slightly up the bed every time his hips meet yours.

Mingi’s mind's going a million miles per hour, but at the same time he can't focus on anything else but you under him. He suddenly feels a wave of anger wash over him. His hand tightening on your throat causing your breath to hitch. You felt so high and far away, his dominance causing another rush of slickness to come out of you. “Listen to yourself. So fucking wet.” He groans, pistoning his hips into you. He was angry, angry at mostly himself, but also angry at the thought of you leaving him and finding someone else. “You’re not made for anyone else but me.” He pants, he was selfish with you, you were his everything, and he wanted to make sure you knew; even if this was the last time he’d get to have you like this. “Mi-Mingi, fuck.” You gasp, he suddenly pulls out and urgently flips you on your belly. He hikes your hips up, pulling the ruined cotton panties down and pressing on your back to deepen the arch. He enters you again, sliding in easily. At this point you felt incoherent, all you felt was him. His cock head hits the spongy spot deep within you, it leaves you trembling and seeing stars. 

You whimper loudly into the plush sheets beneath you, trying to clutch onto something for dear life. “Good fucking girl baby. Take it, y-you’re doing such a good job.” You gasp at his lewd words. You felt so full, like you could burst at any moment, “fucking play with yourself slut. Make yourself cum all over my dick.” At his words  your shaky hand reaches between your legs, pressing your clit the way you liked. You suddenly feel so aware of the sensations coursing through your body, from the feeling of Mingi’s heavy hands and rings on your warm skin to the delicious stretch of his cock, you were close to seeing god. 

“You’re about to cum huh baby?” He asks with a mocking tone, “yes Mingi yes, I’m- cum, I’m gon-.” Your words die in your mouth as he clutches onto your hips driving himself into you, your hands reach back to rest on his pubic area trying to get him to slow down, instead he grabs your wrists and pulls you slightly off the bed. He pistons his hips hard, hitting your spot repeatedly, before suddenly slowing down and focusing on deepening himself, the pressure of his cock nestled against your cervix is enough to send you over. Your vision goes white and your ears begin to ring. “Fuck- fuck.” Mingi moans, he cums, unloading himself deep within your velvety walls. He holds your shaking frame, keeping himself warm in you.

When you open your eyes, your vision is slightly hazy, you squint to focus on your surroundings. You turn your head to look at the man who was still deep in you. His gaze is on the ceiling, still recovering from his orgasm. His breathing becomes labored, he sucks in small breaths looking back down at you, you notice the tears pooling in his eyes. Your gaze softens, “Mingi oh my god.” You say softly, your arms come under you to push yourself up. His flaccid cock slips out of you. You cup his face, turning him to look at you. “Hey why are you crying?” You ask even though you had an idea as to why. He sniffles, looking down at the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you into him. 

“Mingi?” You insist, you needed him to say something, anything. “I just don’t know if this is the last time I'll see you. Have you like this, and be this close to you. I don’t think you understand how badly I don’t want to lose you.” He cries into your moistened skin and suddenly you don’t know what to say or do. “I love you Mingi.” It’s the first thing that slips out, he looks up all doe eyed. “Come here,” you say, flipping the duvet to slip under it. He follows suit, you ignore the wetness that has now smeared all over your inner thighs. Your head comes to rest on his chest, fingers playing with the stacked chains around his neck. “I love you baby, but please say something.” He whispers, sniffling slightly. “Hey relax,” you whisper, propping yourself up to look at him. Your hands run through his dark hair, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Now here you were laying in bed once again with the person that had once ruined you emotionally, yet you couldn’t let him go. You didn’t know what was going to happen, but that was tomorrow's problem.

Taglist: @byuntrash101

[im-robins-bitch]

16+ (gn) Dating Eddie Munson is:

Sharing a big bag of chips and Eddie catching your wrist and sucking on your fingers to get off all the crumbs that are stuck to them.

Eddie sneaking up behind you, pushing his icy fingers up your jumper and laughing hysterically when you cringe and shove him away. 

Baking together and both of you shoving your fingers into the mix to taste it when the other isn’t looking. Taking turns to lick the spoon clean. 

Smacking Eddie’s ass every time he bends over. 

Trying to throw food into each other's mouths and then fishing crumbs out of each other's hair. 

Eddie saying ‘Good yawn’ or ‘Good burp’ 

Alternatively, every time you yawn for a long time he’ll stick his fingers in your mouth. 

If he’s too tired to make it to the couch after work, he’ll collapse on his knees in between your legs and face plant into your lap. 

He doesn’t have an ulterior motive, apart from when he does, he just likes to be close to you. He claims you recharge him. 

Fake wrestling

He likes to bend at the waist when he runs towards you like he’s about to tackle you, but instead, he lifts you off the ground and spins you around. 

He’s an embarrassment at the airport if you ever need to go somewhere. Going and Coming back. 

Going he’s a blubbering mess. 

Returning he’s a blubbering mess, plus he’s delivering a monologue like you’re returning from war. You have received a ‘thank you for your service’ before because of his dramatics. 

The first time you fly together, he won’t admit it, but he’s terrified.

Will always pretend you need to hold his hand, rather than him needing to ask for it. 

Wearing an old comfy pair of underwear with a small hole or tear? Eddie finds that hole and digs his finger in to make it bigger and bigger. Likes that it gives him easier access. Will pull you towards him by the hole.

Like’s to have his hand down your pants just for comfort. He won’t even do anything just rest/cup his palm against you. 

If your is hand in or up his boxers? He’s dead. In heaven.

Goes feral when you rake your nails down his thighs or his happy trail. 

Hair-washing nights morph into self-care days, helping with his curls and painting his nails. 

Insists he does your eyeliner if you’re putting any on. Will straddle your thigh like a heathen and pretend he’s not borderline humping it while holding a pencil dangerously close to your eyeball. 

He believes in love boners. 

Wants a cat, but you’re worried about the responsibility so you get fish to get into the habit of feeding something daily. 

You both have names for the racoons that live in the trailer park and will gossip about what you saw them getting up to that day

Air guitar contests

Eddie writing you love letters in detention

Walking Eddie to the bathroom at parties when he gets too drunk. Holding one of his hands, the other wrapped around his waist. 

Sometimes he has literally asked you to hold his dick while he pees because he’s either too drunk to do it himself or thinks it’s funny. 

He’s a little fucking gremlin,

Your little fucking gremlin,

You love it.

masterlist

[eddieschains]

Just A Taste

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

a/n: no one look at me please and please don’t judge me let me HAVE THIS also not proofread oops

Word Count: 1k

TW// 18+, lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, mommy kink, handjob, cumming in pants, let me know if i missed anything!!

When you and Eddie got married, he couldn’t wait to put a baby in you. It’s all he’s ever wanted ever since you started dating. He wanted to get started right away, so you did.

Now here you are, in your little cottage in the woods, rocking your newborn baby to sleep. Eddie loved watching you with her. The way you looked at her as you laid her down to sleep, he’d never seen such happiness on anyone. It melted his heart.

Eddie loved the way you looked pregnant. He loved watching your belly grow, being in awe of the fact that you were growing life inside of you. But his favorite part? Your boobs, of course. You already had a decent pair, he certainly wasn’t complaining. But the way they grew each day, god he couldn’t keep his eyes away.

Now as he sits next to you, watching you pump the milk out of them for when she inevitably wakes up hungry in the middle of the night, he can’t help but wonder. Wonder what it tastes like, what they feel like, what it would be like to milk you straight into his mouth.

It had only been 4 weeks, and you hadn’t been cleared for sex by your doctor yet. But Eddie was pent up to say the least. The smallest things would give him a hard on. When you’d put the baby to sleep and your shirt would hang open, when you’d reach in the cabinets and your underwear would peek above your pants, jesus even when you were fixing your hair and your shirt rode up showing the tiniest bit of your stomach, he could barely handle it.

He needed to get his hands on you, his mouth on you, anything to relieve the constant pressure in his pants. He’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t thought through and through everyday for the past 4 weeks on how to ask you if he can suck on your tits. He just didn’t want you to think he was weirdo. You’d been together for 5 years now, yet he still gets insecure.

But tonight was pushing him to his breaking point. He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been staring in silence as he watched the machine pulse around your nipple until you snapped him out of his daze.

“Eddie?” You ask with furrowed brows as he finally lifts his head to look at you. He shakes his head slightly and mumbles a hmm?

“You were staring.” You chuckle as you fill one bottle and set it on the table in front of you, preparing the next one.

“Yeah- sorry. I just- do you ever wonder… I mean- does it- does it hurt when…” He trails off, not sure how to bring it up to you.

“It doesn’t hurt, no. It can be uncomfortable sometimes, but it’s not painful.” You answer, unphased as you start to fill up the next bottle. He nods quietly before moving his eyeline back down to your breasts.

He sits in silence for a few more minutes before blurting out, “Can I taste it?”

You lift your head quickly, looking at him with wide eyes and confusion until you realize he isn’t joking. He’s staring right into your eyes before he reaches over and slowly puts the bottle on the table, removing the pump from your breast.

You suck in a sharp breath as he looks at you with pleading eyes, silently asking for permission before you nod yes. He swallows the lump in his throat as he pulls your shirt down further, salivating at the sight as his cock strains tighter in his jeans.

He places his hand on the mound, gently rubbing and squeezing, whimpering at the feeling. You watch him as he gets mesmerized by your swollen tits, palming himself with his other hand.

He plays with the skin of your tit a little while longer before diving in, swirling his tongue around your nipple, making you both let out soft moans. You shudder at the feeling, still sensitive from the pump.

Eddie chuckles, sending vibrations around the bud, only making you moan more.

“Feel good baby?” He mumbles around you, looking up at you with eyes full of lust.

You nod frantically, looking down to see he’s pulled his cock out the top of his jeans, as he begins to stroke it at a steady pace.

You tangle your fingers in his hair as the feeling shoots in between your legs, making you writhe in your seat. He keeps licking in circles before finally squeezing his lips around your nipple, sucking as your milk slowly spills on to his tongue.

“Oh, fuck mommy. You taste so fucking good.” He moans into you, sucking harder and sliding his tongue around to capture every last drop.

Something about his desperate need to feel you and taste any part of you has you a squirming, moaning mess. You reach your hand down to swat his away from his leaking cock, wrapping yours around it as you pump him harder.

“My god, this feels better than I thought.” You both giggle, as you continue to pump him, harder with each pump of your tits.

His moans become louder, and more frequent the harder he sucks and the more milk he swallows down. You feel your arousal soaking through your leggings as your pussy clenches around nothing, getting closer just from the feeling of his mouth on you.

“Want you to cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy, yeah?” You coo, his cock twitching in your hand at your words.

“I’ll cum for you, mommy. Gonna give you all I have.” He groans.

He sucks harder, faster as you do the same with his member. The room filled with muffled moans as you both start to shake under each others touch. A few moments go by before you even realize his cum has covered your arm, and your own has soaked through your pants.

You continue pumping him, now your turn to milk him for all he’s worth as he peppers soft kisses along your chest and down your boobs.

“Can we do that again?” He whines, as he rests his head in your chest.

“Give it a couple weeks and you’ll be sucking more than just my tits.”

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Dumb Little Bunny

...kinda cnc, argument to sex, switch! Toji and reader hehe, low-key foot stuff but also not really, hint of misogyny (use of slut, whore), degradation, and a possessive Toji. Happy Halloween!

"You're not wearing that."

Glancing down, you swiftly study your skin tight garment, pouting slightly.

"Yes, I am... it's on my body, isn't it?" Head whipping towards a brooding Toji, you smirk, a playful giggle bubbling in your chest.

"Very funny, smart ass." He huffs out, the beginning fire of a hissy-fit sparking up in his pebble-shaded eyes. He drags his feet over to you, bit-to-the-stub nails gripping at the skin engulfed by faux leather.

"Don't you think you're gonna get cold? Your legs are hangin' out like it's nobody's business." Toji grumbles, turning you towards the full sized mirror angled against your bedroom wall.

Toji is less than thrilled, to say the least. There you stand, figure squeezed and kissed by the tight fabric of your Playboy bunny one-piece. Complete with a puffy cotton tail and upright, pointed ears. Words can't describe the feeling that struck deep inside Toji's gut the second he saw you all whored out for this stupid Halloween party. The feeling grew from pleasurable to territorial when he realized he wouldn't be the only one seeing you tonight.

"The alcohol should keep me warm." You wiggle out of his grasp, patting his stone chest, before sitting down at the princess vanity he built for you. You pat at your cheeks with blush, sharpen your eyeliner, and touch up your burgundy lipstick.

"Don't start with that. Don't be such a little fucking brat." Toji's tone is harsh as he crosses his arms across his broad chest.

The lack of control brewed anxiety in his limbs and lungs. You invited him... you really meant it, too. But he was the one who turned you down.

"A Halloween party? Sweets, I'm too damn old for that shit."

Toji's attitude was expected, but throughly unappreciated by you... so you simply ignore him. You hear him groan before he lifts you off your cushioned seat, taking your place and settling you into his lap.

Before you can tell him off, he's nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck, tenderizing the area, before roughly biting down. You hiss, pushing his heavy head away and once again escaping his almost solid embrace.

"Ouch Toji! Ugh, what the fuck..." You trail off towards the end of your sentence, feeling the sting of his sharp teeth at the base of your neck.

"Fuckin assholes... their eyes are gonna be all over you, y'know... my fucking bunny. Dressed all cute and slutty."

Toji is still sat, arms crossed, a suble pout on his lips. A grown man throwing a tantrum like a four year old. And he said he's too old for a Halloween party.

Bending at your hips, you push past Toji's slumped shoulders, your eyes making out a wide, dark red mark on your neck.

"For fuck sakes, Toji... you're that fucking jealous hm?" Steadying yourself, hands flat on the vanity, you speak to him through your reflection, voice stern, concrete. He stands behind you, leaning down, his chest flat against your back. He lightly kisses, and kitten licks at the bold mark of territory. Leaning back into him, you feel his semi-hard pressing into the exposed skin of your fishnet-clad ass.

"You look so fucking good, mama. Don't want any of those usless fucking tools seein' ya all dolled up. I want to show you off, not sit here, knowing you're showing off." Finishing off his sentence with a light tug on your hair, he rolls his hips into your backside. Turning in your place, you pull Toji large body into you by his biceps. Groping his growing bulge, you use your other hand to hoist your bottom half onto the desk of your hand-crafted vanity. He follows your lead, staring at you almost expectantly. Sharp eyes follow your foot as it inches its way up Toji's thick thigh. Landing on his crotch, you playfully kick him soft as to not hurt him but firm enough to coax a small groan out of him.

"You like it, though, don't you, Toji? You like knowing that a young, sexy bunny is all yours. You know what to do... maybe if you make me proud, I won't flirt around tonight." You smirk, snapping off the flimsy buttons between your legs. Usually, hearing something like that would force Toji into a juvenile fit. His venomous jealousy would take over, fully souring his mind. But when you have him like this, under your spell, he just wants to prove himself to the woman he admires most.

Quickly, he pulls your pretty red panties aside, allowing the chilling air to wisp at your core. But, the change of temperature isn't the only thing that widens your eyes. Toji's wide tongue flattens upon your heat, licking up and down like an ice cream cone. His head makes exaggerated movements as the tip of his defined nose rubs into your sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure through your body, sizzling out at your toes.

Toji straightens out on his knees, grasping at the back of your calve, bending your leg to fit between him and the wood you're placed upon. Pulling the ball of your foot back against his crotch, he holds the top of your foot to his weeping cock, moaning into you at the easing pressure. He slowly picks up a steady rhythm. You throw your head back, grabbing at Toji's dark locks and pull his face flush against you.

Before you can even reach your climax, you feel Toji stiffen and detach himself from you, and you peer down just in time to see the front of his grey sweatpants deepen in color.

A gruff groan escapes his throat as he sinks his pearly whites into the soft skin of your inner thigh between the open bubbles of your fishnets, like a dog and his bone.

"Ruined my fuckin' sweatpants, shit." Toji grumbles out, standing to his full height, towering over your sitting form. He pulls down the stained fabric, just enough for his veiny, throbbing, stiff dick to pop out. Without warning, he shoves himself into your fluttering, sensitive hole.

"'M gonna fuck ya dumb, bunny." Toji pants out, placing his hands behind you on the polished wood, thrusts immediately adopting a harsh, sharp pulse. Quickly, you begin babbling and cooing out, already being fucked stupid. You can feel your power slip through your fingers with every snap of your boyfriend's powerful hips. Before your dominance completely runs off, shriveled up in fear, you grab onto the back of his head, your mouth seeking his neck.

Toji groans as overstimulation creeps in, weakening his knees until he's in a partial squat, hunched over you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up, pretty girl. Gonna breed you like a fucking bunny. Every one of those idiots are gonna know who you're a disgusting little whore for." He grunts before you feel warm ropes of cum stuff your womb full. Still cumming, Toji pulls out, aiming his flushed head toward the shiny fabric of your sluttly little suit. He stumbles back, admiring the white streaks soaking into the slick black costume.

"Ugh, Toji, it's gonna stain." You mumble out, still shaking as you try to wipe off his cum with your fingers, engulfing them in your mouth, tasting the salty essence.

"Heh. Good." He lowly chuckles, sitting back down on your fragile chair, throwing his head back in exhaustion. You study the dark purple marks on his neck, perfectly matching the love-bites poorly hidden by the patchwork material on your legs.

"You sure you don't want to tag along? You might need to keep me in check." You smile devilishly, cheekily winking, before snapping the buttons of your skimpy onesie back together.

Toji huffs dramatically, irritation slowly snooping back into his dazed mind.

So there you are, frazzled and flushed, walking into this stupid Halloween party. Hand in hand. A dumb, sweet little bunny with her big, mean, dumber man.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

[dovveri]

tattoos and bad behaviour

synopsis: momo has been hiding her new tattoo from you and she’s finally back for you to see it.

warnings: strap-ons, vibrators, sexting, degradation, slight public sex, y/n is tied up and gagged, edging, they’re switches your honour! (but also dom!momo)

w/c: 5.7k

a/n: first this first that first smut :P been obsessed w lower stomach tattoos lately theyre so fucking hot its like my version of a happy trail on a woman 🤤

｡･:*˚:✧｡

your girlfriend momo was keeping her new tattoo a secret from you. she got it while she was overseas and everytime you asked her for a picture or for her to show you while you were video-calling, she refused and you were left imagining.

not today though. she was finally coming back from her month long work trip and you were determined to see the new piece of art etched onto your lover’s skin.

unfortunately you weren't able to greet her at the airport because she had a work meeting right upon arrival so you had to resort to waiting for nightfall, before all your mutual friends would head to the club for a reunion.

you slip on a short red dress that highlighted your ass and left little to imagination. you were midway through drawing your eyeliner when she texted,

m ♡ : baby what r u wearing tn?

y/n : why do u wanna know 😠

m ♡ : ur not still mad at me r u? :(

y/n : what do u think.

m ♡ : can u stop answering my questions with questions pls, i’ll show u tn baby 🥺

you scoff.

y/n : yeah along with everyone else. whys it so secret anyway? yk i love you no matter what if thats what ur afraid of

m ♡ : its not that baby ik u do and ily too 🩷 you’ll understand when u see it why i couldn’t show u

y/n : wtf is that supposed to mean 😠 wtv, u can see what im wearing when u see me later tn

you put your phone down in faux annoyance, letting her messages come through but not bothering to read them while you continue applying your makeup. you weren’t actually annoyed with her, maybe a little hurt that whatever she’s hiding her other friends had already seen on her business trip, and if it really was something she was ashamed of or regretted getting, which was totally understandable you’ve had your fair share of bad drunk decisions, you thought she knew you enough to trust you with these things.

ugh whatever. you weren’t trying to soil your night with something so small. you were also excited to see momo again after a whole month of being apart, so ready for her to pick you up and slam you against a wall with her lips against your neck whispering how much she missed you during her trip. god okay maybe you were a little horny too but who wouldn’t be after being completely untouched by their partner for a whole month. you rub your thighs together.

maybe you could put on an extra little something for momo. only to get back at her a little. show her you could play this game too. tease something she could only know, but not be able to do anything about.

you hum as you go towards your closet, searching for what you were looking for.

you smirked slightly as your fingers grasped the small bullet vibrator, grabbing its corresponding remote. you head back towards the bed, spreading your legs, finding yourself plenty wet already with thoughts about how hot momo would look desperate and thrusting fingers into you at an unbelievable pace.

you bite your lip at the thought, tracing the small vibrator along your outer lips, coating it in your essence, letting it catch at your clit and moving it back down towards your entrance before repeating.

you quickly grab your phone and snap a picture of the vibrator covered in your slick, sending it to your girlfriend.

y/n : sent a picture.

y/n : what im wearing tn

m ♡ : what the fuck y/n. im at work

y/n : you asked me what i was gonna wear 🤷‍♀️

you grin while waiting for her reply, knowing she was probably flustered with that adorable flush across her cheeks. you slip the vibrator inside yourself, clenching around it wishing so badly it was momo’s fingers or strap inside you instead.

m ♡ : you fucking knew what i meant y/n. you better not be touching urself rn. ur mine to ruin tonight.

you whimper slightly as you start tracing circles over your clit with the vibrator still off inside you.

y/n : so what if i am? u can’t do anything about it

m ♡ : you fucking brat u don’t wanna play this game with me rn.

y/n : oh but sweetie you started it. im just playing my move. maybe u shoulda given me what i wanted when i asked politely. now ur gonna have to spend the entire night knowing there’s a vibe going off inside of me while we’re with all of our friends.

you snap another picture, spreading your lips open with your fingers to show the vibrator inside you.

y/n : sent a picture.

you don’t bother waiting for her reply, hoisting yourself up and getting ready to go. you thought it’d be best not to get yourself off just yet, leave yourself nice and wet for her for when she’d eventually tear your clothes off.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

bass pounding, sweaty bodies grinding against each other, and flashing lights. all that was missing was momo. all your friends had arrived already, momo’s coworker saying she was kept behind a little late and would be here as soon as she could.

as much as you wanted to tease her you were also worried that she was taking so long. you were about to grab your phone and call her when she finally walks in.

and holy fuck.

hips swaying in low rise jeans that hugged her legs in the most delectable way. tits hidden in a hardly modest top that covered her belly button in a v shape and left her ab lines out in proud display. but most importantly… the fresh tattoo that adorned her lower stomach. if tramp stamps were hot this… this was a whole other level.

suddenly the vibrator in you that was at the lowest setting felt like nothing. you needed her pounding into you right fucking now.

she spots you and smirks, knowing exactly what you were thinking. god you missed her, your drenched state was proof of that enough.

she stalks towards you, your eyes never leaving those dangerous hips as they sway from side to side with each step.

you play it cool, leaning back against the bar, but feeling yourself clench at the sight.

“hey baby.” her voice is deep and raspy, fuck you’ve missed it. she closes in on you, placing her arms on both sides of you on the bar, trapping you in.

your fingers can’t help but grab her hips desperately, gripping hard. “so this is what you’ve been hiding from me.”

she leans in closer, speaking with that sexy husk of hers into your ear, “i knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me if i’d shown it to you earlier. you’d probably book a flight just to see me knowing how impulsive you are.” she tuts, “bet you wanna get down on your knees right now and get me off with your tongue. trace the tatt and make it yours. you don’t care that all our friends and the entire club would see. you’d like it actually, wouldn’t you? little slut, want the entire world to know how good you are with that mouth huh?”

you’re not given a second to respond as she pushes a thigh between your legs unceremoniously and you gasp at the sudden friction, whimpering into her ear.

“that good huh? how long have you been fucking yourself here for anyone to see? how many times have you cum?”

you can barely get out, “n-none, fuck momo i need you please- ” your eyes close, burying your head into her neck, humping against her thigh to give yourself any friction at all.

“so you’re a brat and a liar now huh? think you can get yourself off on my thigh right now?” she rips away from you suddenly leaving you gasping for breath, hands trailing after her hips, “gotta meet the rest of the gang baby.” she’s sporting a devilish look on her face as she grabs your hand and pulls you along, “this is a reunion after all.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

momo is positively evil. she’s spent the entire night showing off her new tattoo, her outfit alone highlighted exactly what she wanted, and anyone who looked at her would follow the lines of her clothes and body down to where only you were supposed to have access to.

she also makes a point of teasing you to no end. grabbing your ass, pulling you down into her lap when you’re all seated and grinding you down into her thigh. you almost came then and there but she pushes you off of her at the last moment.

you’ve had enough.

you’re seated on opposite ends of the the booth now since she was catching up with some of her friends that you only really knew by name.

you make sure to catch her eye when you turn the vibrator in you all the way up. your legs clench and you have to shuffle in your seat as discreetly as you can.

she raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing.

it doesn’t take much because you’ve been built up for so long and her gaze on you as you grab the table, knuckles turning white, combined with the risk of literally cumming in a public space next to all your friends gets to you.

pleasure washes over you, if only briefly as you cum, eyes closing and mouth opening slightly.

“hey y/n, you okay?”

your eyes snap back open as you turn to your friend, “y-yeah, just a little antsy i g-guess.”

momo’s jaw is clenched so hard you’re afraid she’ll break her teeth.

“oh! we should all get up and dance then! it’d be good to finally join in anyway.” another friend perks up and now everyone’s making their way to the dance floor, your post-orgasmic blissed self following them before your pulled back by a strong grip.

“what the fuck was that?”

you feel yourself dripping again.

you ignore her, pulling her along onto the dance floor, desperate to be closer to her.

“did you just fucking cum?” she’s relentless, pulling you into her hard, arm wrapped possessively around your waist.

you hum along to the music, grinding into her, “no.”

“fucking liar. i know what you look like when you cum. and now so does everyone else in this fucking club.” she’s snarling, hand moving down to grope your ass roughly, “that face is mine. this ass is mine. no one else should be able to see or touch what’s mine. and you’re gonna regret giving them that.”

you smirk, “make me.”

“one month away and you’ve forgotten your place. i’m gonna have to fix this new attitude of yours.” she’s slipping her hand into the hidden pouch of your dress, stealing the vibrator remote away from you.

“‘s your fault. you didn’t prepare me for this.” you run your fingers across her stomach, “if you had, maybe i wouldn’t be so needy. you should just take me home and fuck me right now.”

she growls, “oh no. you’re getting fucked like the slut you are. right here in front of everyone.” she flicks the vibrator up a notch, your hands grip her shoulders but she pulls away quickly.

hoisting herself up onto a small platform nearby, she grabs the pole in the center of it, and starts to dance.

her hooded eyes are on you the entire time as she drops to the floor, turning and bringing herself back up, full ass on display and you think you drool a little but you're not sure because she's somehow cranked the vibrator up again. whoops and cheers as she climbs the pole, spinning with sexy elegance showing off her core strength, abs flexing, breasts pushed together. she comes back in and grinds her front against the pole.

then, and you don’t even know how it happens because you’re so focused on not cumming, she’s suddenly upside down, legs clinging to the pole, cheeky smirk right in front of you as she yanks you in by the neck and kisses you for the first time that night.

you moan against her immediately, she's sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and bites, and you’re helpless against her as she ravages you. you can barely keep up, not even kissing her back just panting into her mouth with hot breaths as she licks into you, invading all of your senses, you're so close to cumming.

you're incoherent as you moan into her, she turns the vibrator all the way up, smirking against you as she feels your mouth go slack and you cum.

but just as sudden as it came, she switches off the vibrator, is off the pole immediately, tugging you through the crowd, yelling something at your friends that you can't make out, and hailing down a cab.

you're barely conscious and mourning the loss of an incredible orgasm. she let you come, but stripped it away from you just as quickly, it could barely classify as an orgasm.

her hand is on your thigh the entire ride back to your place, she's gripping you and inching her hand up your dress. the vibrator turns on again and you jolt, stifling a moan as the cab driver looks at you in the mirror in mild concern.

you grab her arm pausing her ministrations, whispering desperately, "f-fuck mo- c-can't, 's too much-"

she chuckles darkly, "you're the one who begged me to take you home and fuck you. you're gonna take what you get now."

the short drive feels excruciatingly long as her nails rake the inside of your thighs. finally you're home and you're pulling her out of the car and up the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with your keys as she moulds herself to your back, kissing your neck and nipping at your ear.

the door opens and you almost fall in but she catches you and slams you against the door again, closing it as she immediately latches on to your lips.

"fuck baby- god- do you know what you- fucking do to me?" she's mumbling between kisses as you wrap your legs around her waist, her hands immediately going to grip your ass as she pushes you into the door further, hips grinding against your core.

you're a mess, you need her inside of you now. "b-bedroom."

she doesn't take any convincing and lifts you up. your panties are absolutely soiled by now and she could probably feel it against her bare stomach as you grind along her abs.

she throws you onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lips attacking every exposed sliver of skin available to her. you moan as she hikes your dress up, knee pressing into your center.

hazily, you remember what got you this worked up in the first place. and with a glance down, you're overcome with a need.

surprising her with your strength, you're flipping her over and working at the zipper of her jeans, "need to eat you out now. please."

she moans, "fuck baby alright. you're gonna look so fucking hot between my legs, the new tatt crowning your head."

you’re kissing down her body after successfully undoing her jeans and sliding them down her legs. a free hand moves up to grope roughly at a breast and she arches into your touch. you stop once you reach her belly button, pulling yourself up a little to admire her new art.

she's staring at you with lust and rubbing her thighs together at the way you're devouring her with your eyes.

your fingers come down and lightly trace the sharp lines and shapes as she jolts up. you follow the lines on the left side of her lower stomach, tracing down to right above her pussy. you were obsessed. the twin patterns lead directly to her center, bringing your attention to the pathetic excuse for underwear still covering momo's pussy.

you lean down, licking along the tattoo, and her hands are in your hair immediately, tugging and pulling, trying to get you to where she needed you most. but you resisted, licking over every sliver of inked skin, biting down and marking her on the sensitive spot just above her hipbone.

"still can't believe you hid this from me for a whole fucking month."

she bucks up into you, "you woulda put everything down just to see me. and i couldn't have you doing what you're doing right now a month ago when it was still fresh. gotta protect the skin y'know."

you scoff, "coulda at least sent a picture or showed me on video call when i asked." you bite down again and suck, leaving a dark purple mark next to one particular stroke of ink.

"f-fuck baby. first of all- ah- tattoos aren't pretty when they're healing. they're all flaky and red and really gross. second, oh shit- i told you -mmf- i wasn't gonna tempt you to come to me, you have a life and a job but you don't care about any of that when it comes to me."

you get her panties between your teeth, and slowly pull them down her legs, admiring the way slick clings between the material and her exposed pussy. you fling them to the side once they're off. "yeah cos i love you idiot."

"and i love you too but you were not about to fly halfway across the world just to fuck me."

you hmph in annoyance, "guess i'll have to make up for it now then since you've kept this from me for so long." and before she gets a chance to reply you're diving in, licking long straight lines up from her entrance to her clit.

her hands fly to your hair again, keeping you there, gripping your head, thighs closing around your ears. you can still hear her moans as you suck her clit into your mouth and tongue it from side to side, releasing it with a pop and moving down to collect the gush that comes out of her.

oh how you've missed this taste. the heady scent of hers driving you insane as you take inhales through your nose while your mouth is at work.

you look up at her, back arched and head flung back onto the pillow, chest heaving as she crumbles around you. with the new tattoo crowning her pussy, you've never seen anything hotter in your life.

"please y/n. inside- fuck- need you- inside."

you hum against her pussy, the vibrations pulling another gush of wetness out of her as you tease a finger along her entrance.

she's grinding down desperately, "fuck- please- fuck y/n-"

you slowly insert your finger, moaning at how tight she is and how her pussy sucks you in, clenching around you. you don't give her a second to adjust as you start pounding away, sucking her clit into your mouth harshly, fingers pumping in and out of her with practiced speed.

she howls and her grip on your head tightens, you can feel her getting closer as it becomes harder to thrust in and out with how tight she's pulling you in.

"f-fuck! y/n! f-fuck. cumming!" she gushes as you keep thrusting into her, helping her through her high and licking back up to her tattoo, sucking another mark onto her pretty skin.

she relaxes as you pull your fingers out of her, bringing them to your mouth and sucking. you crawl back up kissing gently as she catches her breath, an arm thrown over her eyes. you’re kissing her neck when she abruptly flips you around, smirking down at you, hair cascading her face.

"you've had your fun now. i think it's time i teach you that lesson we were talking about earlier hm?"

her hands are lightning fast as she pulls down the zipper of your dress, slipping it off your body leaving you in your lace red bra and panties. a finger finds its way down to your crotch as she lightly presses down on your clit and you arch your back into her, moaning her name.

"so wet baby. now i'm gonna ask you again and i don't want you to lie to me this time. how many times did you cum tonight?"

"t-two!"

a hand comes down slapping your clothed pussy as you yelp, scrambling away before she yanks your hips back into place and holds you there.

"what did i just say about lying?"

"'m not lying- please!"

she breaks character for a moment, eyes softening as she looks at you with an adoring gaze, "y'know the safe word baby?"

you nod, "raccoon."

she smiles and leans down to peck you, "good girl, don't be scared to use it mmk?"

you nod desperately, "momo please- i'll be good please, please just fuck me."

her eyes narrow again, "it's too late to be good. let's count them hm? first you interrupt me at work, then you disobey me and touch yourself, even going as far as to make yourself cum in front of all of our friends. and let's not forget the bratty attitude you've been giving me all night. you're the furthest thing from good right now." her hands are back at your clit, circling and rubbing until you're squirming under her.

"didn't mean it! just wanted -ah- you to fuck me! not my fault you couldn't do that."

a hand comes down hard on your pussy.

"there's that attitude again. think i'm gonna need to gag you."

your eyes widen at the image, leaking onto her palm.

"you like that? such a slut, getting wet over the thought of being restrained. in fact, let's tie you up too so you don't get any funny ideas."

she's up and back in seconds, gag and silk ties in hand. she makes you strip completely and you feel yourself blush slightly as her gaze on you remains like a hawk.

as opposed to her harsher words, she's gentle while tying you up, making sure the ties are comfortable and not hurting you. your heart flutters at the care she takes and the constant checking in. once you’re all tied up and gagged, spread-eagled with limbs attached to all 4 bedposts, she makes you signal your safe action and as soon as she’s satisfied you’re comfortable with everything, she’s crawling over you again and spreading your legs. 

“so so pretty for me. look at you, dripping onto the sheets.” she runs a finger through your now naked folds as you buck up, pleading for anything.

"so much prettier now that we've shut that foul mouth up too. shame i can't kiss you anymore though." she pouts as she spreads your folds with both hands, blowing gently.

the cold air hits your clit and you shiver slightly in pleasure.

"gonna take this out now," she's pulling the vibrator out of you and you suddenly feel so empty even though the vibrator wasn't too big to begin with.

you're fighting against the restraints, muscles all tense and in anticipation.

"oh don't worry," a dark look passes over momo's face, "i'll fill you up soon enough."

a finger enters you agonisingly slow, and pulls out even slower. she's kissing up your stomach, and takes an erect nipple into her mouth as she repeats this.

you're straining and pulling but she's relaxed, sucking at your tit and kitten licking your nipple. the hand that's not inside you comes up to the other breast, kneading gently and you want to cry. you need things rough and fast and hard and she's giving you the complete opposite. she switches breasts, but doesn't up her pace at all, taking her leisurely time as you writhe underneath her, completely at her control.

your muffled words against the gag make no sense and she comes up and kisses the side of your lip, "shhhhh, baby relax. relax and enjoy it would you?" she continues her kisses to your ears, licking the shell and biting down softly on your earlobe. the hand that's at your breast pinches a nipple and twists. her tongue trails to behind your ear, and then down to the sensitive skin of your neck where she begins to suck lightly. her hand moves to the other nipple and twists it as well, the painful pleasure is driving you insane and you're clenching your jaw around the gag so hard you might just bite into it.

all while her other hand has been pushing in and out of you at the same slow pace she's started in. sometimes she'd be generous and brush against your clit but none of this was going to be able to make you cum.

"if you think you're cumming again tonight you're dead wrong by the way." she hums against your collarbone, "you've come however many times already so the rest of the night you're gonna lie here and look pretty while i take my time making love to every inch of skin i've missed for a month."

you curse internally, eyes tearing up as you subject yourself to her play. she's relentless and unforgiving for the next half an hour. teasing nips, slow licks, and slower fingering.

finally, it seems like she's speeding up a little. thrusting into you with a little more power wt every in, and pulling out a little faster with every out. the hand that has abused your breasts for the last 30 minutes starts gripping harder, pulling at your nipples and pinching them with vigor, twisting, sucking, and flicking her tongue over them and you're building up so quickly after being left stimulated for so long.

she hums against you, "so fucking pretty like this."

you moan as her pace picks up, two fingers pushing in and out of you, hard enough that your breasts start to bounce with each thrust and she adores that, pulling back to watch as the saliva-slicked mounds bounce with each thrust. a third finger enters and your eyes widen, her gaze set on you making you clench around her as you come closer and closer to the edge.

she's leaning down again and blowing against your wet nipples and you're so close to coming and-

fuck! she's stopped completely, hovering over you with a teasing smile on her face that you would give anything to wipe off right now. she coos, "awwwwwwh you look so adorable frowning like that. is my baby mad? mad she didn't get to cum?"

you nod, your eyebrows creasing together.

"well what'd i say earlier hm? you've had your share today. you're going to learn how to stop being so selfish and greedy after you've already come so many times."

she's sliding down your stomach now, grinning up at you from between your legs, before swooping in, tongue hot against your folds as she sucks and licks and bites.

you're writhing again, so easily built up and you come so close, so fucking close, trying your hardest to close your thighs around her head to trap her there but the silk ties prevent you from doing so. and she pulls away again. you want to pull your hair out in frustration.

she's looking at you in amusement. moving off and going to grab something you can't see because you're still tied to this fucking bed.

when she returns she's sporting an 8-inch strap on that bobs along as happily as she is when she skips over towards you. it's almost absurd how adorable she looks with a fake pink dick attached to her and you'd laugh but you just need her inside you so fucking bad you're crying instead.

she's on you again, dragging the lubed up strap along your folds, letting it catch at your clit before moving back down towards your entrance and repeating.

she giggles as you frown, "i'm gonna fuck you until i cum now. if you cum i'm stopping and riding this myself while you watch tied up. understand?"

you nod quickly, needing her to just get inside you already.

she pecks your nose and starts to slide in. you're already moaning at the feeling, pussy clenching and pulling her in deeper until she bottoms out, hips meeting, skin touching.

she lets out a low breath, "fuuck y/n. you have no idea how fucking good you look right now."

she watches in awe as she pulls out, strap even wetter than it was before it went in, and she pushes back in roughly without warning.

"mmph!" you're caught off guard, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sudden combination of pain and pleasure that leaves you reeling.

she doesn't take her time this round. she's pulling out and pushing back in before you know it, setting a ruthless pace as she pants above you, eyes locked on the way she was splitting you open with every upward thrust.

your eyes drift down to her breasts, still trapped within her bra and you desperately wish you could free them, suck on her nipples or play with her mounds, or just watch them bounce up and down as she rutted into you.

she's huffing when she notices your gaze, "s-slut wanting- hah- my tits h-huh?" she stops for a second, hilted inside you as she quickly unclasps her bra and pulls it off, returning to her unforgiveable pace. "mm- there- fuck- you go. can't do anything about it because your tied up and gagged but you appreciate the view don't you?" she's smirking as she pushes herself upward, running a hand through her messy hair as she continues to plunge into you and you think you could die right now.

she brings a hand up to a breast and squeezes, nipple coming out between fingers as she pulls and twists it, moaning at the feeling, head falling back exposing her pretty neck. you're trying your hardest to focus on her and not how close you were to cumming and she's giving you the perfect distraction.

you falter though, as your eyes drift further down, reminded again of the tattoo that outlines her hips, clenching hard as the sight of her lower abs prominently drawing your attention to her strap.

"eugh- you're so fucking- uh- tight around me baby. fuck- are you gonna cum? it's getting harder to pull out with how hard you're -mmf- clenching."

you can't handle everything that's going on. the build up of the entire day creeping into a tight ball in your stomach.

and then she's pulling out again and you lurch forward with a cry. no! god you were so close again fuck!

but before you knew it you felt the ties around your limbs loosening and the gag being taken out of your mouth. you're flipped around onto your hands and knees and she's pushing back into you at an even rougher angle that scratched just the spot to make you see stars.

"fuck! fuck fuck fuck-" you can finally be vocal again as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, the bedhead thumping against the wall with how rough momo was pounding into you.

"yeah? you -ugh- like that?"

"fuck yes! oh fuck you're so deep inside me mo- please, please let me cum i need to cum around you, please,"

she moans pulling you up so you're only on your knees, "yeah? fuck- you think you -shit- deserve to cum after all this?"

you're crying as you feel a hand slip down your stomach and rub against your clit roughly, "yes please! i've been so good i- fuck- please! momo!"

another hand comes up and pinches your nipple, she's thrusting into you at an impossible speed, heavy breaths against your ear muttering curses, "fine. cum y/n. cum for me."

you let go with glee, falling down onto the mattress as her hands move back to your hips, pistoning into you trying to reach her own high. you feel her spasm and moan, falling onto your back, still lightly thrusting as the both of you ride out your highs together. you don't think you've had an orgasm this good since the first time she used the strap on you, the build up of your ruined orgasm at the club and the several times momo edged you tonight coming to climax.

heavy breaths fill the room as you both try and catch your winds again. she's the first to pull out slowly, and you groan at the feeling, pussy still sensitive from the fucking you got. she tosses the strap to the side, cuddling into your back, wrapping an arm around your midriff.

you turn in her arms, snuggling into her chest and breathing in her scent. her hands come up to brush through your hair relaxingly, and you're brought back to the world listening to her heartbeat slow down.

your hand comes up and lightly traces over her tattoo again, and she hums in pleasure at the feeling.

"good?" she asks.

you chuckle into her chest, "so fucking good i think i almost peed myself."

she snorts that loveable snort that you've missed and kisses your forehead. "speaking of peeing, c'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."

you whine, clutching her waist, "noooooo 10 minutes pleaseeeeee."

she rolls her eyes fondly, "you're going to fall asleep."

"'m not." but a yawn betrays you.

she laughs, "yes you will. c'mon."

you groan as she pulls you up, eyes flickering down again to her tattoo.

"i love it mo."

she smiles, "i knew you would you big idiot."

"don't keep stuff from me again."

"yeah yeah, you're a big girl and you can act mature, suuuure."

you stomp your foot like a child, blushing when she laughs at the action proving exactly what she just implied.

"fine you're right, but doesn't mean i like you for it."

"shut up dork, you love me."

you sigh, meeting her eyes, overwhelmed with the way you feel for her, "yeah... yeah i do."

she smiles dragging you towards the bathroom, "i love you too dummy. now let's get cleaned up before you catch a cold."

you sneeze and she laughs at you but you think you're probably the luckiest person alive to be able to be with your girlfriend.

[polaroidpascal]

girls night out || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : after spending a night out for your friend’s birthday, you try to sneak back into the house without disturbing frankie. you thought he was a heavy sleeper, but your mischievous boyfriend never fails to surprise you.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, frankie being positively down bad for you, bar outing, alcohol consumption, reader is aware of her decisions and everyone is consenting, mechanical bull shenanigans, p in v sex (practice safe!!), grinding, riding, frankie has a filthy mouth full of praises, lotsss of nicknames, sweet aftercare bc its frankie and he's a sweetheart ofc

WC : ~3k

a/n : happy frankie friday loves !! hope you enjoy 🤭

“What bar is it again?” Frankie calls from the living room.

“It’s called ‘Deo Drinks,” you reply. “Apparently it’s new in town. Anna said she wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Supposed to be pretty nice.”

Tonight is your friend Anna’s birthday, and she wanted to take all of her best friends on a night out to a new local bar that popped up recently. According to her, it’s a nicer venue (as far as bars go, at least), so she suggested that everyone get dressed up nice for the fun of it. You look down when your phone dings, a message from Anna saying:

make sure your outfit is still practical tho! there’s something at the bar i want everyone to try <3

So here you are on a Friday evening, standing in front of your bathroom mirror perfecting your eyeliner, adjusting your hair, waiting to be picked up by your friends. You hear hefty footsteps traversing the hallway, getting closer and closer to your ensuite. You look in the mirror over your shoulder as Frankie rounds the corner. “Hey, check out these pictures of the bar—”

He cuts himself off when he finally looks up to see you. You’re wearing a sheer sparkling black shirt with a simple black tank-top underneath all tucked into your skinny jeans, the whole outfit being tied together with beautifully shiny jewelry and a pair of black heeled ankle boots. In the mirror, you catch his gaze as his eyes size you up and down, unable to pry them from all of the sparkles. You turn around and his eyes finally meet yours.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Baby… you look beautiful,” he says walking toward you, his eyes leaving yours and continuing up and down your body again. “I mean, you always do, but…” His hands trail up to rest at your hips, holding you at a distance so he can look at you.

You stare at his expression until he’s looking at you again, studying your makeup as his pupils visibly grow. You never get tired of watching your effect on him. You finally ask, “So, those pictures?”

“O-oh, right,” he stammers and brings his phone up. “There’s not very many since it’s so new, but I figured you might want to see anyway. Looks pretty cute.” You can hear the small smile creeping on his lips as you watch him scroll through the pictures. You look up again and smile at him, leaning in for a long, sweet kiss. His hands drop down to your waist to bring you closer to his body, but before he can take it further, you both hear the unmistakable sound of a car horn outside.

“That’s them,” you say, breaking away. 

He steals another kiss, humming in protest before freeing you from his grip and smiling down at you. “Go ahead, then. Go have fun.” You smile back, turning away. He playfully smacks your ass and you yelp from surprise.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You look back and give him a wink.

Your friend Emily drives the group to the bar, opting to be the designated driver for the night. Pulling up to the bar, you see the sign and decorations on the building: the bright red neon sign illuminating your face, wooden planks lining the building, and old, fake wooden shutters on the windows. Of course, you think. “‘Deo” for rodeo. It’s a western bar.

Suddenly, your phone goes off again:

Have a good time princess. I’ll be awake to let you in the house later, so call me when you’re on your way. Love you, don’t get too fucked up :)

You chuckle and send back a quick “will do, love you too!” before you walk in with your friends.

The rest of the night is a blast. You learn a few line dances from the regulars in the bar, eat food that’s honestly better than you expected, and drink probably a few too many shots and mixed drinks with the group.

“Guys!” Anna yells, obviously feeling the alcohol at this point. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” She huddles you all together and leans in so everyone can hear better. “There’s a mechanical bull towards the back. I want everyone to try!”

You make your way towards the back and see that, surprisingly, there aren’t many people back here. You approach the bull and everyone lines up for a turn. One by one, you all get on and see how long you can last. When your turn comes, you get an idea. You hand your phone to Emily, the only sober one of the bunch, and ask, “Could you record my turn for me?” She kindly agrees, taking your phone as you kick off your boots and mount the bull.

Back home, Frankie lounges on the couch relaxing in his sweats and a t-shirt, watching some random movie he found. When his phone chimes, he sits up to grab it, sees it’s from you, and opens the message to a video. Before he can even press play, his eyes go wide. 

No fucking way…

He sits up a little straighter and presses play, watching you with bewilderment as you straddle the mechanical bull, meeting every one of its jerks with an equal but opposite rebuttal. He stares at your hips swaying perfectly to keep your balance and your free hand in the air as you exclaim, your friends in the background cheering in excitement. Frankie gazes at your shocked expression. Of course, she’s a natural. He knows exactly why you’re so good at the game, even if you might not.

You ride it so well, but I’d expect nothing less from you ;)

As if he’s being broken from a trance, he notices his sweats feel unusually tight and sees a bulge slowly growing between his legs. He curses the universe that he’s not there with you right now. Though, he probably wouldn’t be able to contain himself anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. He decides that what he really needs is a shower to take care of his… issue.

But nothing will keep that video off his mind for the rest of the night.

By the end of the outing, the only one who can reliably hold her footing is Emily. Birthday girl Anna is by far the drunkest of the bunch, and while you are really not that far behind her, you might be holding your liquor the best of the group. Emily rallies everyone in the car for a ride filled with loud karaoke and copious slurred compliments to each other as she chauffeurs each girl back to their house. You are the second to last passenger to be dropped off, but Emily had planned on staying at Anna’s house anyway, so you were the last stop.

“Do you need me to walk you in?” she asks with a gentle smile through the open window.

“No, no, ‘s okay. Frankie said he left the door open… or something. I don’t remember.” His text from earlier completely slips your mind. “I think he’s sleeping anyway,” you continue with a giggle.

“Okay, I’ll stay here until I see the door close behind you just to make sure you make it in. Goodnight!” she replies.

“G’night!” you say, turning around and making your way to the door. You turn the doorknob as slow as you can and find that Frankie did in fact leave it open for you, but when you walk in, most of the lights are already turned off. You turn and wave to Emily as she pulls off, closing the front door as slowly and quietly as you can. You slip off your boots and leave them at the door, shuffling over to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

You creep back to your bedroom in methodic yet messy steps, reaching your bathroom. You smear a makeup wipe across your face in a lazy, drunken attempt to clean it up a little and slip into some random comfy clothes that you aren’t sure are yours or Frankie’s, but you don’t really care. Gazing into your bed, you see Frankie’s silhouette, laying on his side under the covers, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest, thinking about how lucky you feel being able to come home to him.

As you reach down to climb into bed, every intention to spoon Frankie until you fall asleep, you’re interrupted by a hand gently grabbing your forearm. You let out a tiny gasp of surprise. “Frankie?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You made it home alright,” he says sweetly, turning over and sitting up some.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Did you really think I’d go to sleep before I made sure you got home safe?”

You look down a bit, suddenly remembering his text from earlier. “Hmm… no, I guess not. But I definitely forgot you told me you’d be up,” you reply bashfully.

“I heard you as soon as you walked through the door, anyway.” A grin breaks out across his mouth.

Your eyebrows raise, surprised. “Really?”

He lets out a chuckle. “I know you tried, but you weren’t really that good at keeping the noise down.”

You look down and giggle too. You really thought you were being quiet.

“Plus,” he continues, “I couldn’t sleep if I tried, thinking about that goddamn video you sent earlier.”

You think for a second and remember. Ohh, the bull. You grin back at him seeing his eyes grow dark merely remembering it. And now that you’re finally back in front of him, he’s ravenous. “Oh really?” you tease. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? Baby…” he says, reaching up to grab your sides and pull you closer into a gentle but hungry kiss. He pulls away, his lips mere centimeters from yours, and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

You see a glimmer of desperation in his eyes underneath his playful tone and nod. He kisses you again, a little sloppier this time as he guides you to straddle him. You lean down and melt into his lips, your tongues waltzing together. You can already feel the outline of his cock stiffening up in his pants and you subconsciously guide your hips up and down the growing bulge. 

He growls into your mouth and you swallow the noise, suddenly aware of the warm wetness growing between your legs. You keep grinding, feeling him get harder and harder, moving your kisses across his cheek and down his jaw. He groans as you lick the muscle flexing on his neck when he tilts back to give you better access. You kiss back up to his ear, nipping at the lobe and whisper softly, “Touch me, Frankie…”

His hands wander down from your face to the bottom of your shirt and he pulls it off over your head freeing your tits to the colder air of the room. His lips immediately attach to you, licking and sucking at your nipple and drawing sweet moans from your lips. He hums back at you, the vibrations reverberating against your skin and moving down between your legs as another wave of wetness fills your panties.

“Frankie… need you inside…” you whine, his tongue furiously working against the hardening bud. “Please…”

“Mmm, always such a needy girl,” he says. “Be a little patient. I missed you.” He helps you out of your soaked underwear and sees just how wet you are. “Fuck princess, you really are needy…”

His hand resting on your hip glides over to your middle, his thumb ghosting over your clit as your hips buck forward chasing the new sensation. You whine as he slowly, agonizingly teases the sensitive bundle of nerves and stares at your face watching it contort with pleasure.

“Yes, Frankie… needy jus’ for you… all you…” you whimper breathlessly at his touch. He loves when you’re like this, losing yourself to the sensations he gives you, soaking him with your slick. He can feel your wetness soaking through his sweats as your naked core rubs against his fingers and clothed cock. 

“Goddamn, gorgeous. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he teases, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, please…” you mewl. You keep grinding against him, the pressure in your lower belly building quicker and quicker. “Fill me up… please… wanna come on your cock…”

A guttural moan rumbles in his chest at that and he lifts you slightly to free his throbbing cock from his pants, precome already making the tip sparkle. He loses the pants completely and he guides you to lower down onto him. “Thaaat’s it baby… fuck, feel so good and warm,” he encourages, your walls welcoming him with every inch added inside. You gasp and moan at the stretch despite being so wet that you’re practically dripping for him. You quickly settle and feel positively stuffed. “Perfect fit. Pussy was made for me, princess.” He brings you down for a deep kiss before he says, “Now, show me how you rode that bull.”

You sit up and rest your hands on his chest for support as you slowly rock your hips forward and backward, gripping his shirt as you go. Sinful moans fill the room when you glide forward feeling the skin on his belly rub perfectly against your clit at the same time. “Fuck, Frankie…”

“Doing so good princess,” he praises, using his hands on your hips to help guide you back and forth, encouraging you to slowly pick up speed. “Yeah, ride me like you rode that bull, baby. Fuck… show me how good you are.” You sit up and pick up speed a bit at the praises he gives you, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “Yes, beautiful. You’re so good. Gonna come on my cock baby?” 

Your walls flutter around him and he groans at the feeling. “Mhm,” you reply in a high-pitched whine and a nod. You claw at his shirt wanting to feel his skin. “Want this off. Wanna feel you.”

Frankie lifts up a little, ripping the shirt off his body and tossing it off the bed. Your hands roam his chest, feeling him up and down. Your face contorts at the sudden tightness in your abdomen. “Gonna come for you… oh my god…”

“That’s it, keep going… come for me baby, let me feel you squeeze me.. so good…” Frankie drives his hips up just a little as you grind yourself to a shaking orgasm on top of him, crying out in pleasure and collapsing onto his chest. He wraps his arms around you and keeps fucking into you, letting you ride out your orgasm on top of him.

He keeps going, slower now as you come down from your high, holding you in place with those perfectly muscular arms. “My good little cowgirl, wish I could have been there to watch you earlier,” Frankie praises as he moves and you’re teetering on the edge of overstimulation. While you’re still a little dazed from the booze, your senses are heightened nonetheless, and he fills them all. His scent fills your nose as you bury it into the crook of his neck, you feel his burning touch wrapped around your body, and you hear the sweet sounds and praises he mutters into your ear.

“Frankie… ‘m gonna come again…” you manage to whimper out.

“Already princess? Feels that good, huh?” he teases, but he’s barely holding on himself. You can feel the unmistakable throbbing of his cock inside of you. “Go ahead, baby. Come on my cock… not gonna last too much longer either…”

The rolling waves of pleasure overtake you quicker than you thought they would. Without a chance to warn him, you convulse under his touch, soaking him in your pleasure and writhing on top of him. Your muffled cries fill the room and send Frankie into a frenzy, fucking into you with sloppy, hard thrusts.

“Fuck yes, baby… I’m so close… my little cowgirl, ride me so good… fuck!” he yells and quickly pulls out, dropping one hand from around your body to pump his length, spilling all over his stomach in between your bodies. His legs shake and so do yours, barely able to keep yourself hovered over him. You meet his grunting with your own whimpering as you both pant your way through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You stay laying on his chest, still held there by Frankie’s other arm and panting into his neck. Your tired eyes stay closed and you just want to lay right here on top of him with his sticky mess between you both. And you do, for a while, Frankie unable to completely catch his breath from the ride you just gave him, until he finally chirps up, “I knew you’d be an expert, princess.”

You smile and giggle. You remember hoping earlier when you sent him that video that it would drive him crazy like this, and your plan worked. “Knew you’d wanna see it first hand,” you murmur through tiredness, lingering alcohol, and complete fucked-out bliss.

He gently flips you over and lays you in the bed, getting up to retrieve a towel and clean up his mess. He wipes his stomach walking back over to the bed and gently does the same to you, pressing a kiss right below your belly button. You hum quietly and he gives you another kiss on your forehead. When Frankie climbs back into bed, you tuck yourself into his arms getting swallowed in his embrace, both of you wiggling into a comfortable position before you sigh, satisfied in every way you possibly could be.

“Goodnight, cowgirl,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. He can tell from the feeble attempt at a response that you’re nearly asleep, and he hugs you a little tighter before you both doze off together.

a/n : could possibly have a fluffy little sequel for this if anyone would ever maybe want that...

[onboardsorasora]

It's been crazy few days and we all need a little bit of just distraction and some happiness. For @chaosinstigator, I wanted to write a longer scene than I normally do. I hope you like it😘

Part 1 | Part 15

Part 16

“Charles, where is Daniel?” Max stretched and bit back a yawn. The first day of preseason was always the longest. What with all the engineering meetings and marketing squeezed in-between.

Charles looked up from his conversation with Pierre– eyes wide. He looked around before smiling to himself. “Over there. With Esteban.” He said pointing into a crowd.

“How do you know?” Max asked skeptically even as Esteban laughed down at something. A bright red balloon bobbed in his eyeline, Max sighed long-sufferingly. “Nevermind.” He muttered.

“It's a great idea!” Charles called at his back as he walked away. Max trudged through the small crowd of people, lips pulling in an involuntary smile as Daniel's shriek of happiness pierced the air.

He came upon the all crowd of media people and drivers, and in the middle was a grinning kid with a balloon clipped to his trousers. He was giggling and wiggling his little body while looking up to see if the balloon wiggled as well.

“Hello Daniel, who gave you a balloon?”

“Max!!” Little Daniel screeched and ran to hug Max's legs. “Look! A ballwoon!” Little Daniel wiggled himself and looked up at Max to see if he was watching, honey eyes large and happy.

“Look at it go!” Max praised, running his fingers through Little Daniel's hair. Little Daniel made a soft happy sound and leaned into Max's touch.

“Was it Charles’ idea?” Max asked Esteban.

“Shaaaarrrrlllll.” Little Daniel hummed.

Esteban quirked a brow at the stim, having never experienced it before. “Does Charles know he does that?”

“Shaaaarrrrlllll.” Came the squeaky voice again.

Max shrugged, “probably. But the balloon?”

“It's Naomi's birthday, he'd started following her– well the balloon and she gave it to him.” Estie explained. “It was my idea to clip it to him so he can't get lost– he had zoomies.”

“Did you go zooming today again Daniel? Did you go the fastest?” Max looked down as Little Daniel looked up with stars in his eyes.

“I went so fasht Maxy!” He promised earnestly.

“That's so good! Do you want to choose dinner tonight?”

“Can we get mummy gnocchi?” Little Daniel bit the side of his palm shyly, twisting his little body. Max froze, he knew the hotel would be able to figure out gnocchi but he needed to call Grace to find out what he'd need to do with it. Not a problem.

“Of course! And we can call mummy too.” Max offered and Little Daniel bounced in excitement. He raised his arms to be lifted and Max obliged easily, lifting Little Daniel and his balloon into his arms.

“Maxy we go home now?” Little Daniel asked, patting Max's cheek with a wet palm. Max nodded.

“Do you want to watch a race tonight or cartoons?” Max asked and Little Daniel thought for a second, holding his smooth chin.

“Race pweese! The one-the one that we was da fastest?” He asked as if Max didn't know which race he spoke about. As if their double podiums weren't Little Daniel's favourite races to watch.

“We'll watch that one.” Max promised and Little Daniel grinned happily. He twisted around to wave at Esteban who Max had completely forgotten about. Estie waved at Little Daniel with a grin and Max nodded his goodbye. They just needed to grab their bags and then they'd be on their way, their balloon trailing behind them.

“Look Maxy! Balloon!!” Little Daniel squealed, pointing upwards at their beacon. He was excited to see it flying in the sky and Max watched him happily and stroked a hand up and down Little Daniel's spine in a comforting cadence.

On their walk from the hospitality to the car, Little Daniel rested his head on Max's shoulder and clutched his hands around Max's neck. His soft breaths told Max he was asleep, tuckered out from his exciting day.