Tumgik
#might as well be “how to work when you’re hungry’’
augustinewrites · 4 months
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satoru bday fic! cw: suggestive
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gojo thinks he should be nominated for boyfriend of the year.
not only had he managed to get the kids to school on time, pick up the groceries, get all his reports in to principal yaga, and clean the kitchen, but he’d managed to do it all while extremely hungover on his birthday. 
he’d even managed to do it all before you’d even gotten out of bed.
he doesn’t blame you for sleeping in. the impromptu birthday party he’d thrown had left you all in quite the state by the early hours of morning. you need the re—
“satoru! could you come in here for a second?”
“coming!” he calls back, shoving the coupon that’d fallen from shoko’s birthday card into his wallet before making his way to the bedroom. “hey, let’s get some frozen yogurt when the kids get ho— holy shit.”
your face breaks out into a grin of triumph at his sudden silence. gojo’s rightfully stunned, carefully studying each bit of revealing lace and the way it sits against your body before committing it to memory. 
“is that…”
“the set you had commissioned in paris,” you hum, nonchalant as you drag your fingertips up your hip. “that’s the one.”
he takes a few slow steps toward where you are and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, arousal warming his whole body. “but you said you’d never wear it because—”
“because i was saving it for something special,” you finish, leaning up and shifting towards him. “like your birthday.” 
“well,” he sighs as you close the distance between you. “i should unwrap my gift then.”
“please try not to tear it,” you murmur as his lips brush over your pulse. “i’d very much like to wear it again, and i, oh, i saw the charge on the credit card…”
his reply is no more than a distracted hum as you shift onto his lap, allowing curious hands to explore your body and hungry lips to move against yours. 
the lace is soft on your skin, his hands eagerly working to undo the ties holding up delicate florals and sheer material. 
“satoru, i need you.” your breath is warm against his skin, exciting him more as he goes to pull off garter belt.
“uh, babe?”
“hm?”
“how do you take this off?”
_____
“well, i connected it to this piece—”
“but we can’t take this piece off unless we take this one off too. that doesn’t make any sense.” 
“i’m telling you, that’s how i put it on.”
“then why won’t it come off?”
it’s then that gojo decides custom lingerie should come with instructions. when he’d designed it, he hadn’t actually considered the logistics of this operation.
“okay,” you huff, turning around and placing your hands on his shoulders. “you’re just going to have to tear it.”
“fine by me,” he grins, slightly smug as he curls his fingers around the expensive material and tears—
the two of you scramble up when the front door slams open. it’s in that moment you realize that satoru hadn’t closed the bedroom door. 
“mom!” you hear megumi shout, his stomps echoing through the apartment. “tsumiki ate one of my snacks!”
“shit, fuck.” cursing, you grab his discarded t-shirt and slip it on before jumping into bed. satoru slips in next to you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and pressing against you from behind.
“satoru!” you hiss when you feel something poke the back of your thigh. 
“we just made out for like ten minutes,” he whispers back, only pulling you closer. “you didn’t think i’d get one?”
“put it away!”
“i could, but—”
you manage to summon one of your divine dogs in time for it push the bedroom door closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid’s footsteps come to a halt. 
“we’ll be out in a second!” you call, hearing their hushed argument as they trudge back to the kitchen.
“i might need more than a second…”
you hit satoru in the face with a pillow. “you’ll get the rest of your birthday gift tonight, after you drop the kids off at nanami’s.
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bunny584 · 4 months
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OBSESSED: GETO
A/N: Suguru is a patient, kind, wonderful, completely out-of-his-mind-insane man. I just had to capture it on paper. (The Yuuta installment is up next, this one was just crawling out of me lol)
C/W: Voyeurism (the real Shibuya incident 🤭) Mature, 18+
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Suguru should stop.
He really should fucking stop.
You two are friends. Innocent. Platonic. The very best of friends.
And yet, here he is. Watching a live feed of you walking through your apartment door.
Keys to the left.
Heels kicked off to the right. You’ll come back to those later.
He drapes the bath towel around his neck. Catching the last few almond water droplets from his thick, near waist length hair. He’ll be at your place later; he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was the reason you caught a cold.
And capital punishment for anyone who rouses a single strand of hair on your head.
6:38 PM. A little late today. But it’s a Wednesday and there’s a farmers market in the town square. You always stop for chocolate croissants too late on Wednesdays. The vendor leaves before you’re out of work.
There are four of them on low heat in his oven right now.
Because Suguru now knows the vendor on a first name basis. He’s paid him well over asking price to have 4 chocolate croissants (made 2 batches later than what he sells during the day) be delivered to his place every Wednesday.
Because you’re his friend.
His best friend. And he can’t stand the thought of you going a second without anything you want in this lifetime.
Oh fucking hell.
Your (his) favorite blazer is off. As is the demure mint silk button up that it was covering. Both now wistfully draped over the corner of the kitchen island. He finds the way you throw your things around haphazardly so adorable.
But that doesn’t matter right now.
Like clockwork, Suguru’s left hand drags down his sweatpants, just enough to let his overgrown, painfully hard cock free. It bounces well past his belly button, like a fresh wire spring.
And with cinematic timing, you lean over your kitchen island. In nothing but your lacy bra and snug little pencil shirt. Mindlessly catching up on your social media.
The way your plush, pouty rose lips hang slightly open. And your fucking perfect tits spill over the top of your slightly undersized bra. The lazy S curve from your petite shoulders…tapered down to your waist…back out to the swell of your hips.
“Fuck,” a king cobra hiss escapes his lips.
You’re dizzying. Utterly fucking intoxicating.
Suguru’s chest rises and falls. The pace of his hand around his cock crescendos. Almost angrily.
How could you do this to him?
You’re his best friend for fucks sake.
Precum slicks from his thick, blunt tip. Squelching around his knuckles.
Your back arches into a mini crescent moon. And Suguru might as well have swallowed a blow torch.
“Nnnhhgh fuck, g-god…so…” Sharp drags of air mix with his poorly choked down moans.
His hand grips harder. Hips now rutting up off his desk chair. Hungry. Needy. Imprecise pumps into the slick ring of his fingers. Chasing another high he so desperately wishes you could personally give.
Because the way he feels right now?
The sheer malevolence in his mind. The depravity. You trust him completely and he can’t trust himself with you at all.
Beautiful, enchanting girl.
You reduce him to a perverted, bird brained slave to his desires.
You make him want to violate you. To fuck a cock-shaped hole through the back of your skirt to your cervix.
He wants to pick you up and bounce you along all 10 inches of his length and watch himself bludgeon through to your stomach.
He wants to pin you down and use your pretty little throat as his personal cocksleeve. And watch you garble and cry and drool around his invading length while you struggle for air. And listen to the melodic sounds of you gasping and muffled around his dick when he makes you apologize.
Apologize for being so goddamn irresistible. For bringing this depraved shell of a human being out of him.
Electricity runs the length of his manhood. His breaths are jagged, tendrils of wavey hair matted to his forehead.
The sound of your ringtone slices through the static in his brain. Tethering him back out of his criminal spiral.
“H-hey, pretty.” Suguru forces his baritone to level out. Hand still stroking his length.
Your wispy, girly giggle almost finishes him instantly.
“You’ve gotta stop with the pet names, Suguru! The trail of women in your wake hate me enough as it is.”
“Ha-I c-couldn’t care less.” Talking is harder than breathing for him.
You lean up from the counter and start twirling your hair in a way that makes him want to carve out another galaxy for you. Just for you. Anything for you.
“Movie night? I’ve been wanting to—“
“Yes.” Suguru is almost embarrassed at how quickly he cut you off. Like a fucking dog.
You laugh again and stroll to your refrigerator. He knows you’re lamenting the missed croissants. And he knows you know there’s a 99.99% chance he’s already gotten them for you. Because he is silly putty for you. He crumbles to stardust in your hands.
Because he’s your best friend.
“I got them.” Suguru rasps out. Hands moving so fast up his shaft, precum surging out his tip. He’s so close. So fucking—
“God I love you.”
And he snaps. Hot, thick ropes of his cum splay everywhere. Suguru draws metallic from his bottom lip, clenching down so hard not to give himself away.
You said it so innocently. So platonically. And it shifted his entire world on its axis.
His best fucking friend.
“Love you too, I’ll be there at 8.”
PART. II
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kyunzin · 3 months
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𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
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character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@tyunixia @riowmie
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kookslastbutton · 2 months
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
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✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
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Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
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“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
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“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
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For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
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"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
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Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
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a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
2K notes · View notes
daisynik7 · 3 months
Text
cw: established relationship, explicit sexual content, smut - cunnilingus
Author's Note: Barely proofread, completely horny. Enjoy. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
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When Nanami comes out of the bedroom for breakfast, he notices you’re already set up at your work desk, expression serious as you face the monitor. 
“You have a meeting right now?” he asks, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. 
You relax a bit from his loving smooch. “Yeah. I don’t even need to be in this. My boss just said to hop on and listen in. Said it’s a learning opportunity.” You make air quotations with your fingers at those last two words, rolling your eyes. 
He hums, massaging your shoulders, which are stiff and tense with stress. “I’m sorry.” His thumbs work out a knot; he always knows how to put you at ease at times like this. 
You lean back, tipping your chin up to catch his gaze, smiling. “Thank you, honey. I’m just…annoyed.” Glancing back at the screen, you sit up straight, muttering, “Oh no, it’s starting.” With a click of your mouse, you’re in. A few of the attendees are already chatting, so you keep yourself on mute, not bothering to greet them. 
Instead of heading into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, Nanami remains behind you, bowing down to whisper, “Do you want a distraction?” His mouth grazes your ear, his hands gliding up and down your arms. 
Although you’re on mute, you mouth a silent, “What?” to him.
His voice gets lower, sultry. “I’m hungry. And I’m craving my favorite treat right now.” He nuzzles his nose to yours, flashing that lazy smile of his you love so much. “I’ll be quick.” Too much. 
“Kento, are you serious?” The rational part of you knows this is crazy, especially while you’re actively attending a meeting. However, the horny part of you, which seems to supersede everything else, wants your husband’s distraction so badly. The temptation to do something you shouldn’t be doing is too alluring to resist. And besides, you’re virtually non-existent in the conversation happening in front of you. Might as well do something else productive.
He nods, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, just enough to tease a moan out of you. “Baby,” you whine. “We shouldn’t.”
And the two of you know what that really means.
Soon, he’s under the desk, sliding your pajamas bottoms off one leg at a time while you pretend to pay attention to whatever nonsense your coworkers are discussing. Your panties are already wet and Nanami takes his time peeling them off you, biting his lip at the way it glistens with your arousal. 
He wasn’t lying when he said he was hungry. In fact, he’s starving. He proves that with how voraciously he eats you out, your legs open wide for him to spread his tongue all over you. His grip is firm on your knees, keeping you split apart, licking and sucking on your clit, coaxing every drop of cum out of you. You can go the entire meeting with his face buried in your wet cunt, his drool mixing in with your slick. 
Suddenly, and to your absolute horror, your name gets called by your manager. “Any questions?”
You try to shove Nanami away, but he’s relentless, latching onto you tighter, sucking on your clit harder, louder. You squeeze his cheeks tightly with your thighs, practically smothering him, but it doesn’t do anything except make him hum, the vibrations only adding to the divine sensation. 
Before this long pause gets any more awkward, you swallow all the saliva pooling in your mouth and unmute yourself. “I’m good, thanks!” you blurt out, muting yourself once more as you let out a drawn-out moan, coming for the fifth time on your husband’s tongue.
The meeting is dismissed shortly after. You shut your laptop closed, scolding your husband, who’s now kissing the plush of your thighs, chin and nose shiny with your cum, a wickedly charming smile on his lips. “Thought you said you wouldn’t have to say anything,” he teases, trying to feign innocence. 
You run your fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands gently. “Thought you said you’d make it quick.”
He comes up from beneath the table, meeting your face with his. “You know nothing is ever quick with me, sweetheart.” Then, he kisses you, pulling you close to him, cock stiff against you, leading you into the bedroom.  
1K notes · View notes
star-centric · 5 months
Note
Could you pretty please do some “how they would try to court you” (not in a ABO way, but in a Devildom dating culture way), headcanons / scenarios with Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo?
PAIRINGS: Mammon, Diavolo & Beel x reader (all separate)
NOTE: Let me say this- I love love LOVE requests like these!!! Any time I can write about stuff like this it makes me kick my feet and giggle. Also sorry this is so late- life is a hectic atm 🫠
CW: gender neutral reader, mentions of possessiveness, minor suggestive themes (mainly in Diavolo’s part)
How They Would Try to Court You (feat. Mammon, Beelzebub and Diavolo) (Headcanons)
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MAMMON
Mammon’s a lot like his crow familiars- especially when it comes to courting. Combine that with his sin of greed and you’re in for a time!
He’s greedy, so it only makes sense that he wants all of the time. Whether it’s just laying around in your room or even just walking to class, he’s right by your side. People are starting to get used to see him literally everywhere you go. He might as well be perched on your shoulder like your own personal crow
You start to find little trinkets left for you- courtesy of Mammon. Those pairs of earrings you were eyeing at the boutique? You found them on your pillow when you got back from class. The cute pin you says reminds you of him? It's already in your locker. The items are usually something small, but still meaningful to you
Nests!! When you see a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows in both of your rooms, and how Mammon is very adamant (ie. very nervous of your approval) that you have to lay it, you feel like he have no choice but to get in it. It's so comfortable that when he sees you instantly relax he can't help but let his chest puff out in pride (and he may have let out a coo or two when he saw how peacefully you were sleeping)
Speaking of cooing- he’s humming around you too now. It's cute actually, and it makes him blush whenever you comment on it (he even does it without realizing it sometimes, which makes it even more adorable). You start to catch it when you praise him for something, but he starts doing it even more outside of it. He tries to play dumb about it, but he's really happy (and relieved) that you love how his voice sounds (it's what he was hoping for)
He starts to flash show his demon form to you more. It stemmed from your praise at his photo shoot, and ever since then he's been stretching his wings around you. Graze your fingers across them and Mammon would be putty in your hands
Mammon has always been selfish, especially when it comes to you. It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, but you’re still a bit surprised when he gets serious about it. The nights where he asks you not to leave, where he tightens his grip around you and buries his face into your neck, he means it
He wants to prove to you that he’s the only one you need, that you don’t need any other demon but him
BEELZEBUB
Beel’s courting style is simple, yet effective!
Despite it being a while since Beel felt this much of a pull towards someone like this, he really does try his best
He makes sure you’re well fed and never hungry- he knows how he can get on an empty stomach, plus he has to make sure you’re taken care of! It starts to become a very common sight to see Beel feeding some of his food to you, which leaves the others shocked, but he’s unfazed by it. They’ll even catch you bringing you food to share and not the other way around they’re used to
Beel is also like Mammon in a way- always by your side. Whether he’s just stuffing his face or observing something else, he’s right behind you like a second shadow. You didn’t realize how intimidating it was until you started to wonder why so many people started to steer clear of you- literally
(It wasn’t on purpose but Beel wasn’t complaining)
He also starts to work out around you more. You’ve always been amazed at his muscles, awed at how he lifts hundreds of pounds with ease. He’s never been one too full of pride, but the sensation bubbling inside of his chest made him want to show you more. His regular workouts, his fangol games, practice- he wanted you there for it all
Beel can’t explain it, but putting his strength on display for you feeds into a growing urge that’s hard to suppress. He wants to show you how strong he is, how easily he can protect you if something were to arise. The fanged grin on his face when he sees you cheering for him leaves him motivated to do even more
Sometimes he’ll slip into his demon form because of how excited he gets seeing you (which in turn makes his opponents/teammates nervous)
Soft bites- it happened by mistake the first time. Beel accidentally bit your finger while you were trying to feed him. He didn’t break any skin or hurt you, but when you bit him (playfully) in return something…changed inside of him after that. He wanted to do it more- leave your skin littered with marks done by him. And he wants to feel your own blunt teeth bite into him (even if you don’t leave a mark). It’s become a cute memory and another inside joke between you both
(Even if it makes him want to go feral everytime he sees your bite marks)
Beel also scents you! He has the strongest sense of smell in the house (and probably one of the strongest in the entire Devildom), so being able to leave his scent on you isn’t a problem. Lending you his clothes (which the sight of you with them does something to him too), wrapping you in his own blankets while burying his face into your neck- you don’t know why he’s been so cuddly lately but you’re not complaining (and neither is he)
Beel isn’t much of the possessive type, but he’s not willing to share you with any other demon outside of his family. Even then, his primal urge is somewhat satiated knowing that he’s left his mark(s) on you for others to see- and plans on leaving more to show that you’re his
DIAVOLO
The Future King of the Devildom has been lonely for some time now- so forgive him if he goes a bit…overboard in his methods
Remember how he was when you ate the pudding humans weren't allowed to eat? Imagine that type of behavior but with no restrictions
Expect to be adorned in the finest jewelry/outfits you could get in all of the Devildom. It gets to a point where you’re wearing literal millions- all he does is laugh at your shocked expression and waves off your worries. It’s not like he can’t afford it- plus he wants to see you in it all! (and show you how easy he can provide for you)
He’s a lot more bolder than he usually is during this time too (not that he wasn’t bold to begin with). He’s…just not holding back anymore
He’s more open with his touch, his hands finding his way to you a lot more common now. Whether it's out in public or behind closed doors, Diavolo can't seem to keep his hands to himself. The looks you get from people when you're out together make you a little embarrassed, but he holds his head up high anyway (which you're not surprised- he is the ruler still, not like they can say much anyway)
But Diavolo doesn't mind the looks- he wants them actually. He wants people to see you with him, to know that you're with him and that nothing is going to change that. That you're his and his alone. A part of him is tempted to keep you locked inside for his eyes only, but he knows that it wouldn't be right to do that to you
But he does invite you over to the castle more, which somewhat helps his urges. You’re waited on hand and foot by Diavolo, who doesn’t mind at all- he sent Barbatos away on “important tasks” (ie. give him alone time with you). It’s adorable how earnest he is in taking care of you, even if it’s something minimal as holding the door for you or feeding you himself
He’s in his demon form too, and thrives off of your attention- to see how you admire him makes his chest swell with pride. You’re in awe at his form (which makes sense since it’s a rare sight to see), and he loves it. He craves it. He encourages you to touch his wings and have your fingers graze his horns- just be careful not to tug on them too hard, unless you want to really get him riled up more than he is now
Diavolo is also like Beel in wanting to see his marks and scent left on your skin. He shows restraint, and it’s only ever done in spots he can see (mostly). There may be a dark splotch or two on your neck from when he got carried away (or when he wanted to show others that you already belong to someone)
Diavolo really hasn’t felt like this over anyone in years- Hell, probably in his entire life. He really has become enamored with you during your time in the Devildom that he can’t imagine loving someone else. You truly have made his life brighter with your presence
He understands that you can’t stay here forever, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t become mates regardless, right? Or rather, who’s going to stop him?
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luveline · 11 days
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May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹
Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing. 
She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner. 
“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?” 
“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.” 
“Eighteen days is not three weeks.” 
“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.” 
“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?” 
“No, just soap.” 
“Well, that’s not much better.” 
Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop. 
“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon. 
“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork. 
“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.” 
“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.” 
He’s unintimidated. “Ah.” 
“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.” 
Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke. 
She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways. 
“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?” 
Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast. 
“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks. 
“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.” 
“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern. 
“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder. 
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks. 
God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room. 
“He likes that one,” Spencer says. 
“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.” 
“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.” 
“Is that why?” Spencer asks. 
“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”
“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.
“Scoundrel,” you agree. 
“How’s your head now?” 
“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink. 
He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath. 
Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore. 
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openupforme · 2 months
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ꪖꪻ ꪗꪮꪊ᥅ ꪑꫀ᥅ᥴꪗ - E.W.
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*pics from pinterest, i don’t own these.
[] Pairing : soft!rough!dom!ellie x needy!reader
[] Synopsis : Twice out of the year you both take the [] day off. One of you needs to relieve your stress and [] one of you needs to blow off steam. One out of the [] two of you does all the hard work, while one of you [] is incapable of moving or doing anything at all.
[] Warnings : 18+, MDNI, swearing, teasing, HEAVY SMUT, bondage, HEAVY overstimulation, PRAISING, ellie refers to the reader as baby and angel, dom!ellie, bottom!reader, face fucking (r! receiving), oral sex, strap on fucking {lmk if i missed anything please 🦦}
[] Authors Note : Digital footprint? we don’t know [] them. BUT ANYWAYS, i hope you enjoy. let me [] know if any of you have anything specific you [] might want to read next? CAN SOMEONE PLEASE [] TEACH ME HOW TO DO THE REQUEST THINGY [] FOR THE BIO? oh yeah this is a modern!AU
——————————————————————————
The soft pillow that is nestled under your neck turns cold, and your body shivers due to your naked state. Due to how smoldering Boston’s weather is in the summer, the AC unit thats connected to the window adjacent to your bed is blowing at high speed. Even after the sun goes down, your two bedroom apartment sometimes still feels like a sauna if it's not put to use.
The once forgotten chilling air pulls you out of your thoughts, making you shiver again. You slide your leg across the bed to try and locate your blanket, only to remember the words your girlfriend muttered to you thar morning. "I want nothing getting in the way when I'm fucking you as many times as I want later", she said even though she was sleep disoriented.
Your eyes are covered, your hands are tied, your bodies shivering, and Ellie is still nowhere to be found. The green eyed girl whispered dirty things in your ear, fingered you until your toes curled, just to get off the bed with a "You're probably hungry, I'll be back baby". You’re immensely lucky to call her yours, but now it's her fault you’re freezing.
You laid there for what felt like eternity under the blistering air until you hear the bedroom door open. Your head tilts towards the direction of the door. Well where you assume the door is. The soft patter of feet comes closer and you feel the bed sink under your girlfriends weight.
“Hi Angel are you awake?" Ellie says before dragging her finger softly across your jawline.
"I'm awake, but I'm fucking freezing. Can you please turn the air conditioner down?" You say in a small voice.
"Of course I will, it's my fault you're freezing anyway. I also stopped by Salvador's and got your favorite." she stated cutely as yoi waited for her to return to the bed.
The buzzing caused by the AC stops as Ellie resumes her position next to you. Silence engulfs the room and you feel her hand start to softly caress your stomach making you sigh. "I don't want the food to get cold. I'm going to feed you, not like you have another choice anyways," she said as you giggled at her reference to the ropes around your wrists and blindfold over your eyes.
"That's fine baby, I love when you take care of me" You smile and wait for her retrieve the food out of the bag. Soon you felt a styrofoam container being sat on your stomach, and as soon as Ellie opened it you moaned at the smell.
"Baby no more moaning please. For the foods sake, one more of those and I might throw this food and my control out of the window." she said with what you know is a smile on her face, that tone always indicated playfulness. "Open up" she says before the taco is placed in your mouth, and an unintended groan rumbles from your throat.
You hear a whimper come from Ellie who is sitting beside you, as the taco is being taken away from your mouth so you can chew. You hear Ellie begin to woof down her portion of the Taco's, moaning with each bite. While the two of you were eating you could feel her eyes trailing across your naked chest. You could physically feel her eating you alive with just her gaze alone. The thought alone making your legs try to clench together.
After many bites and groans the once chilly room was becoming warm and lust filled. The sexual tension was rising by the second and the thought of being thoroughly fucked for the fifth time today made your legs clench shut. “Already ready for more? Your last orgasm wasn't even an hour ago," Ellie said picking up on your body language.
“You're moaning and I can practically hear your loud filthy thoughts. Might I add that you're teasing me and I don't appreciate it." You sigh out. It's normal for you to get turned on quickly when you’re with your girl, her presence alone made your body want to heat up.
"I didn't mean to tease you, Sal's infamous tacos are just too fucking good. Plus baby, you know all you have to do is ask if you want something. Remember what I told you the other week?" she asked as her hand began to trail down your stomach.
"You've told me many things the other week. Please elabora-" you were cut short when her slender fingers began to rub your clit, making your back arch off of the bed.
"I told you that I am yours. Anything you wish is my command, because you are my everything. I also said that I love to please you, it's my favorite thing and an honor to have the privilege of worshipping you. You are my drug. You'll get anything you want, as long as I'm able to please you and call you mine." she said before removing her gifts from god from your nerve bundle. Butterflies and a series of whines erupt from your throat at her words and the loss of contact.
"You show me everyday baby, would you mind showing me just how addicted you are?" you say in a breathy tone, already dripping onto your shared black sheets once again.
"Anything for you angel, I was going show you whether you asked or not." The horn dog said moving the empty food carton from my stomach, and tossing it onto our bedside table.
You hear the rustling of clothes, and knew they were being thrown recklessly on the floor of your bedroom. The bed then dips and you feel soft and warm hands spread my thighs gently. Then you hear her soft voice cut through the silent air, "What do you want baby? Whatever it is i'll give it you". you moan at her low tone and start to thrust your hips into the air, becoming impatient due to your turned on state.
"I want you to do what you always do. Make me feel good. Put your tongue in my pussy please” you moan out desperately.
Before you knew it her long slender tongue was deep inside your tight hole. Ellie instantly starts moving her head back and forth, while she kept a strong grip on your thighs. You try to run away due to the pleasure being to immense, but your restraints keep you secure. She temporarily pulls away to sexily whisper to you.
“Why’re you running baby? This is what you wanted yeah? Then stop squirming and let me fuck you with my tongue. I know you want it”
She dives back in and soon sounds start emitting from between your legs that make you want to cover your mouth in embarrassment, but you physically can’t. Wet slurping and Ellie’s moans are booming off of the walls, as she continues to plunge her long muscle inside of you.
You can feel the tongue inside of you curling upwards and moving backwards. You realized Ellie was quite literally swallowing your cum, drinking from you like you held the fountain of youth between your thighs.
“Fuck baby please p-please, stop it feels too good” You say trying but failing to shy away from her quick thrusting tongue.
Ellie comes up for air to quickly say “You know your safe word baby, and unless you use it i’m not fucking stopping. So be quiet and take it like a good girl okay?” The auburn haired girl says before her tongue is once again quickly dragging along your walls. Making white lightning shoot up your spine. The noises coming from your mouth sound downright pornographic. Who can blame you? This is what you wanted right?
You feel her slender fingers glide up your thigh to your stomach and they end up harshly tugging at your nipples. The pain of that mixed with the wet sucking noises your pussy makes as it’s being rammed into you has you beginning to sob. It was too much. She was too much.
Seconds felt like hours. You could do nothing but lay there like a good girl and succumb to her torture. That tongue was relentless and it’s goal was to LITERALLY fuck the life straight from your body.
You could only imagine what Ellie looked like in this moment. Eyes closed in bliss, loose hair sticking to her forehead, while you could feel her whimpers of satisfaction vibrating inside of your walls. The thought alone has you approaching your orgasm with the speed of light.
The blindfold covering your eyes doesn’t help with your sensitivity. As soon as your vision was engulfed in darkness your other senses skyrocketed, and that was before Ellie even started fucking you. Now there’s a flame roaring between your thighs.
Her nose is pressing against your clit with every jerk of her head between your legs. They started to shake under her palms as you cried for mercy. “Good girl, it’s okay good girl” she’d mutter to you every once in a while when she came up for air.
Suddenly she pulls away from your pussy causing you to cry out. You start to wail out and beg for her to let you cum, but your admissions are being ignored.
“Baby calm down it’s okay. I’m just going to grab something, I’ll be right back okay” She whispering softly, to which you respond with a tear filled voice “N-no! Baby please just fuck me, fuck-fuck me please I need you”.
“So needy, behave for me please? Just wait a minute angel, I promise to fill you up again” She said as you felt her weight lift off of the bed, making you sob harder.
You hear the closet door open with a *click* and you instantly quiet for a second. “Hm what happened baby? I thought you wanted me to fill you up” she says with that fucking stupid smirk on her face. You can’t see her but you know it’s etched on her lips.
“E-ellie wait, I don’t know if I can take that right now. I f-feel like i’m going to pass out any second now” You whisper shakily, knowing damn well you want her cock to stretch your tight pussy open.
“You know you can always safe word if you want to. I’d never do something you’re unsure about, but something tells me that your neglected hole wants to squeeze me” Ellie says now on her knees staring down at your pussy from above.
The tip is pressed on your clit, making your back painfully arch as far as it could. A moan so loud it shook the ceiling escaped your mouth. “You want me baby? Beg me” She said repeating the movement making a squeal rush out of your mouth. All Ellie could do was coo at you and laugh at your overstimulation.
“In-Inside please” You beg like a bitch in heat. You try to rut your hips up enough to force the tip to slip inside, which earns you a blistering slap to your thigh. “Stop fucking squirming, ask me properly” Ellie was growing impatient, she wanted nothing more than for you finally beg so she could fuck you into your shared bed.
“Y-your cock, please put it in my pussy. I need y-you so bad so fucking bad. I-I’ll do anything, just PLEASE” you blabber making Ellie look down at you in pity.
“Okay baby, okay I got you.” She whispers thinking that she’s tortured you enough.
After Ellie’s statement you felt the fat head of the silicon toy push inside of you. This caused the loudest whimper yet the leave your tight throat. “Oh fuck well would you look at that, you’re trying to pull me in deeper already.” She mutters through a groan.
You feel the toy slowly gliding along your gummy walls, making it harder to breathe. The thick girth of the toy is causing your pussy to stretch. It’s a big step up from Ellie’s lengthy tongue but it feels deliciously painful. The toy is only half way inside of you now, but that doesn’t stop you from crying out “O-oh god fuck, it’s too much” to the girl above you. The toy is sliding in deeper, massaging the nerve endings in your channel perfectly, and all you wish you could do was put your hand on Ellie’s stomach to stop her from going any deeper.
Before the strap on can bottom out within your pussy you feel Ellie drag it out of you slowly. Squelching noises follow due to the vast amount of wetness that surrounds the toy. The sound makes Ellie moan out and then push back in slowly.
You think she’s trying to tease you but deep down Ellie just doesn’t want to hurt you. She’s trying to allow your pussy to accommodate to the large size. As much as she’d like to rip you in half, she still feels like being gentle is needed right now. Especially because of how sensitive she knows you are right now.
You cant stop the moans from pouring out of you at her slow pace, in and out in and out. It’s that mouthwatering torture you crave but fuck you wish she’d go faster.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice that the toy was now snug against your sensitive cervix. You yelp out loudly like a dog that just got it’s paw stepped on, because fuck it’s big. The toy she picked out of your combined collection makes few appearances. But when it does, you know you’re going to end up fucked out and gasping for air.
“Oh angel it’s okay, I know you can handle it. You’ll tell me if you can’t won’t you? Yeah I know you will. I just want you to give me one more okay? Just one more.” Ellie says wanting to coax a 6th orgasm out of your tired pussy.
Ellie on the other hand is so drunk off the sight of your puffy pussy lips stretching to accommodate her length that her mouth bobs open and closed like a gaping fish out of water. This is what she lives for. This is what keeps the breath in her lungs. Being able to make you feel the pleasure you deserve.
Ellie’s waited too long, and before you know it she’s pistoning inside your pussy with immense speed. All you can do is cry and try to squirm away, but still to no avail the ropes remind you that you can’t. Gut wrenching sobs burst past your lips as your tears soak the material of the thin mask. Ellie notices this, and she halts her movements while the toy is pushed as deep as it can go inside of you. She leans forward and gently pulls the soaking material away from your eyes.
“Agh there you are angel, you know the deal. Keep your eyes on me or I swear on all I love that I’ll stop. Do you understand me?” She says menacingly. You wouldn’t dare disobey her. But before you can even respond that you “understand” she’s already moving her hips back and forth.
The look on Ellie’s face right now can only be described as ravenous. You made the mistake of catching her eyes with yours, and she can see the submission pouring out of your irises. She bites her lip, grips your thighs, and starts fucking into you like it’s the last time she’ll be able to. You didn’t even think it was possible for her to move faster but she managed to.
Your eyes cross towards your nose at the newfound pace. This makes Ellie let out a cute giggle, you look so fucking pathetic. The toy mixed with the look of hunger on Ellie’s face has you back on the edge again.
The long cock is reaching so far inside of you that you can feel it nudging against your stomach. You can physically see your stomach bulging up and down from each of her harsh thrusts.
You cant fucking take it anymore. Ellie’s groans, the pleasure, the sight of your stomach popping up and down has you ready to explode. But Ellie knows that.
“I know you want to cum, beg me angel, or I’ll stop right now” That threat has you panicking.
“P-please can I come? Please m-make me come. I need it, please fuck I-I need it. Just want to come for you, be your good girl.” you cry out and babble in despair.
“Okay okay, shhhh I got you, I got you. Let go for me. You did so good” Ellie says lifting a purple remote. She then presses down and you hear a click. Oh fuck.
As soon as her finger lifted off of the device intense vibrations are being soaked up by your walls. The pleasurable hum touches that spot deep inside of you. You’re a goner.
The orgasm you finally get the chance to experience takes you out of your fucking body. Screams and wails flood out of your mouth. At this point your neighbors probably think you’re being murdered. But the thought doesn’t stop the white creamy liquid that’s shooting out of your hole. Not only does it cover the whole of Ellie’s thighs and stomach but is also soaks the bed under your ass too.
Ellie simply just stares at you in awe, still buried to the hilt letting the vibrations work you through the comedown. The aftershocks of your intense orgasm still have you shaking, they still have you crying, and fuck it won’t stop.
“O-out please, it’s too much. I’m so f-fucking sensitive. Ellie please” you cry out still feeling little tears slide down your cheeks.
Ellie finally breaks from her trance and clicks the button causing the sensation to finally stop. She slowly slides out of you making you whine at the loss, but cry out from joy. You pussy is completely wrecked and all you want is that sweet aftercare.
Ellie unstraps the toy and gives you a hasty but soft “Ill be right back, okay?” And after hearing the running water shut off she emerges with a wash cloth. The warm cotton glides against your thighs, and moves gently along your outer lips. She straightens her back and stands back up.
“What do you say pretty?” Ellie says her voice filled with love. But you’re still too stuck in a trace to answer. The crying has subsided but you’re still shaking. So she asks you again.
“What do you say? Don’t test my fucking patience.” Ellie now speaks with that dominant tone you adore.
“Th-thank you, fuck thank you” You whimper out pathetically, trying to think of how she could possibly assume you’re in any position to form words right now.
“Thank you for what angel?” The soft tilt to her voice returns.
“For making me cum, for calling me your good girl.” You say calming down slowly as each second passes by.
“Good girl, you did so good. I’m so proud of you. Thank you for letting me please you. I’m going to untie you now okay?” Ellie says already making her way towards the binds around your left wrist.
One by one each knot comes undone, and after each one you’re slipping closer and closer to sleep. Before your brain that’s been turned to mush can comprehend what’s happening you’re pulled onto Ellie’s strong chest.
The last thing you say to Ellie before you fall asleep is the soft admission of “You had your fun today, but next time it’s you that’s going to be in that position.”
Ending AN: So yeah that happened.
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notjustjavierpena · 2 months
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Longing
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: This is a collection of !!!!5!!!! asks because y’all are desperate for Javier being a great husband and lover, and I am happy to give you what you crave.
Summary: You make love to your husband the first time after giving birth.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, breastfeeding, f masturbation, showering together, insecurity and nervousness, longing kisses and lots of them, body worship, breast play, lactation kink, javier is HUNGRY, nipple play orgasm, checking in, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, clit stim, unprotected piv sex, emotional and desperate sex, creampie, crying and aftercare, sweet javi is here to make you comfortable and make you come 
Word count: 5.3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53944708
Longing
Javier gets up early every day for work during your maternity leave and the routine is the same; coffee, breakfast, and a shower, and then he gets Lucas out of his bassinet so he can feel his son’s tiny body against his naked chest before he finally brings him to you because he knows you love bed-sharing with your newborn. It’s so you don’t miss me, he jokes each time after kissing your forehead, knowing that his son might as well be his clone, at least not too much.
You’re nursing Lucas as Javier gets dressed. Today will be the first break in your newfound routine, and you barely know how to begin. Something is playing on your mind and you distract yourself by running three fingers over Lucas’ head as he feeds, hoping it’ll make the words you’re about to say seem less clumsy.
“Javi,” you try to get your husband’s attention.
“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love)?” Javier is standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie. He looks at you through the mirror and smiles gently as he catches Lucas’ tiny hands reaching for your chest. You let the infant grab at your finger instead, warmth in your grin as you bond with him.
“I was thinking we could do something tonight,” you begin and your voice sounds almost absentminded. It feels silly to ask for sex when you think back to how ravenous both of you were before and during the pregnancy. Lucas is nearly two months old. You haven’t been intimate with each other for two months. 
“Do what?” Javier goes back to tying a knot on his ridiculously patterned tie. 
“You know…”
He tenses up, almost looking like when a cat’s ears perk up in interest.
“Is tonight the night?” He asks, catching on. He turns away from the mirror to face you, expectant but careful not to assume. 
“Two months,” you say simply, “I think I’m ready.”
“Two whole months. How the fuck did we manage that?” He snorts. You tut at his foul language but cannot help but smile since you know he is right. It boggles your mind too. 
“We’ll have to take it slow. Would that be okay?” You look down at Lucas as he gurgles slightly, moving him a bit in your arms. 
Javier finishes dressing for the day. He walks across the room and bends down over you, kissing your forehead, “Is it okay that I get to take care of my beautiful wife? I think I’ll suffer through it for you.”
When you tilt your head backward, he also kisses your mouth. You smile against his lips. You say, “I think you’re late for work.”
“And maybe I’ll go home early too,” he pecks your lips repeatedly, “Rush home and into the bedroom.”
“We’ll be waiting here for you,” you let him know. 
Javier runs a finger down over Lucas’ nose, “Your momma better change the batteries in the baby monitor, mijo (my son). We won’t have time to check on you as often.”
“Oh, just go,” you grin.
“Te quiero (I love you).”
“I love you too, now go catch some bad guys.”
Javier gives you one last kiss before he heads out the door, and it’s enough to leave you aching for another. He lingers until your breath is torn from your lungs, slips his tongue inside your mouth until you are reminded of what he can do with it, and his fingers slide through the hair at the back of your head - all he has to do is yank but he doesn’t, not with his baby in your arms.
“More later,” he whispers and your pulse goes south at the promise. 
“O-okay,” you only manage to stutter.
When Lucas has been put to sleep, Javier and you take a warm bath together to get you all relaxed. He helps you under the spray, guiding you into the cubicle by the hand, and smiles as you sigh deeply at the warm water. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he praises when you run your fingers through your hair as it wets. You give him a shy grin. He proceeds to kiss your neck, not caring about water running down over his face when his lips on your body make you less tense with nerves. 
You tilt your head back, letting out a sigh as he drinks in your skin, going upwards until it is your mouth he captures. His hands dig into your fuller hips, fingers denting what you call your baby weight and what he tells you he’d fall on his knees for.
“Can I touch you?” He asks when he needs air. 
“I’m nervous,” you answer truthfully. 
Carefully, as if seeking permission, he takes your hand in his own. He kisses your palm softly and you feel a spark of electricity in your belly, knowing that you are lucky that it is him who is here to guide you through this. He moves your hand down between your legs, “Perhaps… these gentle hands.” 
“You want me to touch myself?” You blink.
“Who would be better?” He grins boyishly. 
A part of you wants to say that you think he might know you better than you know yourself but there’s a plan here. You follow through, never breaking eye contact as you find your clit and start going in circular motions. It takes a second but when your body finally reacts, you let out a gasp at the flutter that spreads out from the little nub. 
Javier looks ravenous at having the privilege to witness you like this. He talks quietly over the sound of the water, and soon you feel his cock poke into your thigh, “That’s it, mi amor (my love). God, look at you. Doing so good.” 
“Javi,” you sigh gently. Your fingers speed up, feeling your heartbeat slowly increasing in speed. You chase your high, mouth slightly open and eyes locked on Javier’s.
“Yeah? You’re gonna make yourself come?” Javier’s hands find your hips again. He holds them in place, joins in the way that he can. You nod with a higher-pitched yeah, eyes falling closed during a louder moan.
Your fingers are more frantic after that. You touch yourself with him looming over you, core burning with need as you can feel his eyes bore into you. Your clit jumps occasionally as you work yourself toward the edge and a crease in your forehead forms. 
“I’m gonna— fuck,” you announce. The sound of water cascading down your body blurs until it becomes almost silent to your ears.
“Yes, you are,” his voice has dropped an octave, “Oh, you really are, aren’t you?”
And then you snap and the fact that it isn’t in privacy and that you have Javier swearing under his breath makes it feel incredible. You can feel your cunt clench from clit to slit repeatedly, seeking more than you can give at the moment but oh, it feels so good. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted your husband inside of you more, walls aching to be stretched.
Time stands still in the shower. You find yourself resting against the cold, tiled wall. Javier looks at you, has pushed his wet hair out of his face, and is smiling triumphantly, “Mi esposa hermosa (my gorgeous wife).”
You roll your eyes, cheeks heating up from both post-orgasmic bliss and sudden shyness, “It felt good. I don’t think you know how wet I am for you.”
“Well you are in the shower,” he jokes when he spots your restraint, hoping to get you to relax even further, and you step forward to punch him playfully. He shies away, laughing to the point where your head swims with love and tenderness for him. 
It ends up being an occasion to kiss once more. Javier holds your face, thumb smoothing over your chin as he slides his mouth over yours. You melt into him, holding onto both of his wrists as you suck on his tongue and it doesn’t bother you that you accidentally swallow a few droplets of water; his lips on yours make everything else fade. 
He has rarely kissed and touched you like this over the past few months, having agreed with himself to not tempt you too much with something that neither of you would have been able to follow through on, so the promise behind his touch - his hands are going down to your hips and your arms are linking together around his neck - makes you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin underneath the hot spray of water. 
Eventually, you realize how hard he is and you almost feel bad for being so selfish but when you reach down, Javier stops you. 
“I can wait,” he promises, breaking the kiss to look down between your bodies. He twitches in your hand, even more when you reluctantly let go. 
“Javi,” you whine.
“I don’t want it to be over already,” he explains with color on his cheeks, “Think about how much we’ll enjoy it later. I’m sorry, mi amor (my love).”
“No, I understand,” you reply with a soft sigh, “I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Mhm, bet you will,” he hums and then drags you close to kiss you again.
You agree on finishing the shower and getting into your sleep clothes because Javier argues that it might help with your nerves to be undressed by him, a thing you absolutely love. You settle for a loose t-shirt - in case you have to nurse - and panties, something comfortable with an ability to leave the covered parts of your body up to the imagination.
Earlier, before checking on Lucas, you took painkillers to let your muscles relax even further. Now that they are working, you meet him in bed. He smiles at you as he sees you enter through the door and watches you come closer as he is sitting with one leg dangling from the side of your shared bed.
“Hey,” you say shyly.
“Come here,” he smiles.
You may have relaxed muscles but your heartbeat races in your chest, feeling like you might have butterflies trapped behind your ribs. Your body is humming as you crawl onto the bed, sitting on your knees in front of him. 
“You still want to do this?” He asks, taking one of your wrists in his hands. He rubs it with his thumb, giving you his usual concerned expression that could compete with that of a puppy. 
“Yes,” you confirm, leaning forward to initiate a kiss. 
He catches on quickly and meets you halfway. He tastes like toothpaste, kissing you softly at first before he grows hungry from having denied himself during the first touches in the shower. 
You sling your arms around him, just about to be bold enough to straddle him but he is quicker, and suddenly flips you around until your back hits the mattress and makes you bounce slightly. You respond with a half-yelp, half-giggle, and try to ignore any anxiety that might arise. 
However, any noise quickly dies in your throat because Javier moves on top of you. He moves close until you can get drunk on his scent, inhale the distinct smell of only him that gets you so high because you know it’s only you who gets to be so close to it. You can feel your heartbeat in your sex, your underwear starting to dampen. 
“You know I struggle to be gentle,” he rasps against your ear, placing a lingering kiss right below it to make your heartbeat spike. His hands curl around the bottom of your t-shirt. He pulls back to look at what he is doing to you and for a moment, you think he might rip the fabric apart from the way his nails dig into it, the same urgency in his eyes like someone who has gone without food and drink for weeks and is now looking at a whole buffet, “When it’s been so long since I have had you like this.”
You hum in understanding, mouth slightly open and squeezing your legs together with a sigh, causing Javier to look down between your legs. He looks like someone who is making a plan, a list of steps forward about what he wants to do to you. You can only wait in anticipation.
Your top comes off then. He yanks it upwards and you lift your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely. Your tits bounce slightly as there is nothing to hold them anymore, and Javier groans at the sight of you. He practically latches onto your neck, sucking his way down your throat until he has made a trail of glistening spit down over your shoulder, your collarbone, and finally down between your breasts. It’s nice but it’s a lot.
“Stop,” you say to him as he seems lost in the moment. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the soft curls there. He lifts his head to look at you, and you smile gently. Your face feels hot, “I need you to go slow… Sorry, I’m not ruining it, am I? I just told you to stop…”
“What? No. No, mi amor (my love),” he reassures but even if his kisses have made you wet, you feel overwhelmed with the idea that things might not be the same ever again. You shift slightly underneath him, and he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone whilst watching your expression in case it’s still uncomfortable for you. 
“I think it might take a while for me to be ready tonight, I can’t just jump back in,” you swallow after confessing it but Javier nods in understanding. 
“That’s okay, baby. It’s only been two months,” he crawls up to hover over you, abandoning whatever he was doing even if he was enjoying it, and you still rest your hands on the back of his neck. 
“I mean you’re so,” you decide to feed his ego to make your reluctance up to him even if it’s not necessary, “… Big.”
Javier snorts. He seems to find it more funny than flattering, “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” you giggle, “Biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Listen,” he turns serious, resting on one of his forearms to reach for your hand on the back of his head. He pulls it down so he can hold your hand in his. He entwines your fingers, “Do you want to stop? I won’t get angry at you.”
“And not even try?” You avoid his gaze.
“Hey, mírame (look at me),” he replies and you do, “If that’s what you want. No matter what you say, we made progress tonight.”
“I masturbated in the shower,” you deadpan. 
Javier laughs but he kisses your lips a few times, “And it was fucking sexy. I’ll be satisfied with just watching that for the rest of my life if I had to, but I do like the thought of Lucas not being an only child.”
“Slow down, Peña,” you teasingly scold him, feeling your anxiety fade as he makes you laugh and thus relax, “You just got your first baby. I am not a factory.”
“What are you then?” He wiggles his brows.
“Your wife,” you say with a grin. 
“Oh, right, that’s right,” he moves to kiss your neck again and you find that you let him. He moves slower than before, trailing his lips across your throat from one shoulder to the other. He takes his time and doesn’t rush the way that he probably would like to, “That’s right, you’re my wife.” 
“Husband,” you moan softly and feel him smile against your skin. He goes further down and goosebumps rise on your skin when the flat of his tongue licks around one of your nipples. You push your chest out, needing more because it starts a fire in your belly. To think that he hadn’t even gotten this far just moments ago. 
“You like that?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your right breast. He looks up at you through his lashes before he licks the little nub again, it has hardened into a peak. The nerves are so sensitive there now that you are breastfeeding, and you hadn’t even given it a second thought that it could be something to enjoy with him. 
“Yeah,” you sigh and stare down at the top of his head. He moves to bend your legs, spreading them apart so he can lie down between them and kiss your tits. 
“I can’t wait to see how wet this’ll get you, baby,” he murmurs as he concentrates. He starts with the right side, letting his mouth fall open until he can press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your nipple and suck just a little as he pulls back. He does it again. You curl your toes and whine. 
“Oh,” you are panting already from the connection it appears to have with your cunt, “Keep going.”
Javier doesn’t hesitate. He skims his hand up and down your side until he dares cup your breast, looking up at you for confirmation that you aren’t uncomfortable. You bite your lip and nod. 
Your husband applies the gentlest amount of pressure. He doesn’t remove his hand again, keeping your breast in his palm as he takes your nipple between his lips once more. However, this time he sucks without pulling away, and much to your surprise, as he massages you too, you feel a few drops of milk slip into his mouth. 
“Javi!” You say in a horrified voice, starting to squirm, “I’m so sorry. Oh my God, ohmygodohmygodohmy—“
But Javier only seems to be spurred on by this. In fact, he starts to coax out more milk to satisfy the hunger that he didn’t even know he had in him. You hear him mumbling something, telling you not to worry about it. He sucks, laps, and catches each drop that escapes his mouth and streaks your beautiful chest whilst your eyes roll back and your clit throbs. 
Your hands find his hair. You tug without making him pull away from you, and pressure builds as his skilled tongue moves in circles around your now-puffy nipple. He takes the peak between his lips again and again, the sound of wet kisses towards skin filling the room, and he drinks like he is parched. 
Eventually, you feel too tender to go on and something inside of you fears that you might actually come from this even if it seems ridiculous to be terrified of that happening. You don’t think you have ever had breasts this sensitive in your life, and whilst it has been nice for you to have Javier pay attention to your chest, this is new territory and it’s overwhelming above all else. 
The grip you have on his hair intensifies, “Baby. Can you switch? I’m getting sore.”
“Of course,” he draws back slowly and gently noses along your spit-slicked nipple and presses one last soft kiss. You twitch underneath the touch. 
“Javi,” you stress. 
But he follows through and switches over to the left. The sensation of him using his tongue on you here as well is exquisite, eliciting a string of higher and higher moans from your throat. 
God, he knows what he is doing with his mouth and soon wetness has started to smear your inner thighs after seeping through your underwear. You know Javier will lose his mind when he sees it.
Though right now, he is busy as his tongue flicks repeatedly across the hardened nub. Milk trails down your stomach at first and then suddenly squirts when he pinches your right nipple without warning. 
“Oh!” You gasp and feel your pulse getting stronger between your legs. You lift your head, “Jesus. This is—“
“The hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he interrupts you as if he knows you are going to degrade yourself in some way. You were in fact going to call it messy. He kisses your breast open-mouthed again, sucking your nipple into his mouth until you give in to a moan, “¡Dios mío (my God)! You taste like candy. Sweetest fuckin’ thing ever.”
“You need to—“ you can barely speak as his tongue curls around your hardened peak. He flicks his tongue back and forth over it afterward.
“Yes?” He stops to let you talk and nibbles right at the roundness of your breast. 
“I can’t do this anymore, we gotta do something else or I’ll come,” you don’t even hear how absurd it is to make it sound like a problem. Below you, Javier nearly chokes at hearing that.
“Jesus, how devastating that would be,” he says sarcastically. With a quick glance up at you, he decides to keep going to which you do not protest. He lavishes you with nips and sucks, building something low in your belly, “Then come, mi vida (my life).”
You try to catch your breath as your cunt pulses but suddenly an orgasm crashes over you and makes you lose it altogether. There’s milk everywhere. You cry for him after a moment of not being able to make a sound, hands falling to the sides so you don’t end up pulling strands of hair from his scalp. Your back arches, your throat scratches from the noise you make, and below you, Javier watches with absolute wonder.
“Are you okay?” He eventually asks, sitting up a little to follow your wishes if you should have any. When you don’t respond, too busy panting, he starts rubbing your thighs soothingly until you come back to him. 
“That’s never happened before,” you say, “I didn’t think…”
“Was it good?” He watches you with a tiny smirk.
You nod.
“Do you want more?” He continues. 
You don’t hesitate despite the circumstances. Twenty minutes ago, you would have doubted even being kissed. You nod.
“And what does my baby want?” He looks down between your legs. When you don’t reply, he starts suggesting things, “Want me to play with your perfect pussy? We can stop anytime you want.”
You whimper instead of using actual words. It’s now that you realize the pressure inside of you telling you how much you need to feel him inside of you, and you’ll take it any way you can. Perhaps it’ll be easier to start out this way. 
“Yeah?” He sounds almost a bit mocking, moving to stand on his knees between your spread legs, “That what my girl wants?”
“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.
Javier swears quietly as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and watching the fabric cling to your wet seam. He inhales deeply as if to compose and behave himself, looking starved for more even as he already has a streak of white milk on his chin, “You are so goddamn wet for me, baby. She’s weeping, the poor thing.”
“Imagine how many men would worship the shape of your body,” he praises as soon as he has you naked below him, eyes glazed over by lust. He looks at you as if it’s the first time he has ever seen you, pupils dilated and mouth slightly open. You feel like a deer in the headlights of a car but you don’t dare interrupt him, don’t dare disturb the flow of words falling from his lips because they make your whole body burn with need instead of insecurity.
“I can’t believe that I was the one who got to make you my wife,” he tells you with a smile that shows you how pleased he is with himself as if it’s his greatest achievement - fuck everything else; the job, the money, the fame. He skims a hand over your belly before leaning down to kiss below your belly button, causing your muscles to jump underneath his warm mouth when he licks you clean of milk. Then his palm descends on your body, “Mhm, gonna show you how grateful I am. Stuff you full of my fingers.”
“Please,” you whine, jaw clenching as he slips a finger inside of you and tiny shivers seem unable to stop rolling over you. He straightens again to look at you for reassurance that everything is okay. You give him no reason to doubt.
After a few moments, he adds a second finger. He curls them upwards until he finds the little spot inside of you that makes you sing, and your hands grab at the sheets when he makes a come-hither motion over and over again.
“Javi,” you breathe desperately. 
“Yes?” He doesn’t halt, only slows down slightly to concentrate on what you are going to ask of him. The look in his eye tells you that he’ll give you anything. 
“I love you,” you moan towards the ceiling instead. The wet squelches of your cunt are obscene to listen to, bouncing off the walls along with your continuous gasping for air as he makes you unable to breathe properly. 
“I know, baby, I know. I love you too,” he grinds the heel of his hand down against your mound, reminding you briefly of how he made love to you the first time ever. He rubs your clit on the outside and works the pads of his fingers over your g-spot on the inside. Fast. The world fades away around you until you suddenly find yourself coming again, Javier’s eyes widening at how quickly you have gotten there once more, “Christ, baby. You are just insatiable tonight. Has it been too long?”
“I want you,” you completely ignore the question. You shake through your high, not even planning on begging but it’s almost too much not to have him fuck you, “I can— ah, I can take your cock. I can. Please. I need you inside of me.” 
Javier growls. He shoves his underwear down, moving on the bed for a moment until he is completely naked. You reach for him with newfound confidence, and he enters your embrace and slides both arms underneath you to hug you back. The kiss he gives you is so longing that you almost want to cry from all the emotion it exudes. He loves you so much. He would never do anything to hurt you. It is so clear at that moment. 
“Make love to me,” you moan into his mouth, thumbs drawing down the sides of his face until you can move your hands to the nape of his neck. He is warm against your chest, the curls at the back of his neck slightly damp from sharing your body heat for so long.
It takes a mere few seconds for him to reach down between your bodies. You make a little gasp as he pushes into you. He is slow in his movements, almost making it seem like he isn’t moving his hips forward at all, and he keeps his eyes on yours to make sure your face’s contortion isn’t because of pain. 
You grab at the pillowcase, clutching it into your grip as he fills you up. Your breathing is loud and hard, your eyes a little wider than usual. There’s a little resistance but you try to relax into it, accept his cock even if it’s with trembles of your body.
“This okay?” He asks with a voice that is marked by his own restraint. 
You nod repeatedly. You want to punch the bed. Instead, you reach to grab his bicep and hold on for dear life as he gets deep inside of you. You aren’t sure if you have overdone it by coming two times already because you are so sensitive, your walls fluttering around his length but oh, you want him so badly that you take it with your eyes rolling back into your skull.
After a few very long moments, he is fully inside of you. His chest rises and falls quickly, breathing strained because of how much he has missed being engulfed by your heat. You hold onto his arms which flex underneath your touch, and then he moves inside of you for the first time in two months. 
The cry that releases from your throat makes your voice break and Javier’s groan follows right after. You become a sweaty mess of limbs, clutching at each other as if you can’t get close enough. You pant his name, kiss him deeply, and dig your fingers into his skin hard enough to bruise.
“I’ve missed you,” you tell him through whimpers.
“You’re perfect, mi amor (my love),” he replies in a gruff voice, “I love to fuck you.”
Javier cannot help his mouth when you make him feel like this. He thrusts harder into you, moving his weight to his forearm so he can slide his free hand under you to press it against the small of your back. He lifts your pelvis into his own, arching you until no one would be able to tell where he starts and you finish. 
Then he speeds up his hips and you see stars. You throw both arms around him, holding onto your wrist to keep them there. He drives into you with determination to make you scream, and as you do, you try to imagine how beautiful his golden back is glistening with sweat. 
“Fucking love making you come,” he continues, planting a kiss on your jaw that was probably supposed to be on your mouth, “Over and over and over. Are you gonna come for me?”
“Yes, yes, God, yes, baby,” you can feel his pubic bone grinding into your clit, building your peak quickly, “Keep going— don’t, oh my God, don’t stop!”
“Wouldn’t dream— fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” he sounds close to, giving you everything he has to make you tip over the edge a third time. He always tells you how much he loves you choking his cock until he spills inside of you.
So when you come, a hitched breath turning into a series of cries for God, he does too. It is two months of built-up tension and emotions, and you find yourself crying in his arms as waves of pleasure take hold of you and take you with them. You are gone, lost to the world of burning desire and ecstasy. 
After he pulls out of you, the sense of time is an unknown concept in the silence that follows. You cry quietly because nothing else can convey what you feel. After all, you feel so close to him again. Javier brushes each tear away with his thumb, murmuring soft and comforting words. 
“You did so good,” are the first words that actually make sense to you. He noses along your shoulder to kiss you there, “I don’t deserve you. You are the most beautiful woman in this world.”
You chuckle breathlessly but fresh tears just fall down your cheeks. Javier rolls off of you to make things less intense, looking at you from where he is lying on his side, “Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about. You were so beautiful.” 
“Sorry,” you say instantly and wipe tears away with the back of your hands. 
“No,” he objects, “That’s not what I meant.”
He is silent for a moment. Then he lays his palm on your stomach, “What do you need?”
“To pee and get cleaned up,” you feel embarrassed without knowing why, “My legs feel like jelly.”
“Fuck it, let’s see if mine do too,” he is on his feet before you can protest, telling you to scoot closer and when you do, he picks you up bridal style. 
He carries you to the bathroom, making a comment about your wedding night, and then lets you pee and wipes you down with a damp cloth afterward, both your sensitive cunt and breasts. You kiss him more times than you can count when he takes you back to bed again. 
In the morning, you watch him bounce Lucas in his arms when he thinks you are asleep. He is making funny faces and blowing raspberries on your son’s chubby cheeks, talking so gently that you can’t help but simply roll onto your other side, smile gently to yourself, and fall back into slumber.
.
.
.
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cupid-styles · 19 days
Text
scare (cheatrry)
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word count: 1.9k
content warnings: slight mentions of smut, pregnancy scare, cheating plot, mentions of abortion, not suitable for ramadan
based on this blurb!
main masterlist
. . .
Harry’s not an oblivious man.
More often than not, he considers himself to be an empath, easily picking up on mood changes pertaining to those around him. With his ex-wife, he could tell if she’d had a bad day at work just by the way she walked through the front door. With Y/N, it’s much, much easier, because, for the first time ever, she’s clearly avoiding him. 
When he texted for their weekly hookup, she churned out some bullshit excuse about landscapers being at the house all day. (There weren’t. Call him insane, but he drove by on her lunch break, and her front and back yards were so quiet, you’d be able to hear the sound of leaves falling.) 
And while they normally don’t interact much at school pickup — usually Harry’s being swarmed by hungry MILFs who he politely rejects each and every time — she’s taken to wearing a large pair of sunglasses over her eyes, almost as if she’s physically attempting to hide from him. It’s odd and it makes him concerned, even if he’s the one that’s repeated the same sentiment regarding their situation a million times over (“no feelings, just sex”). 
His brain launches itself into the worst places it could possibly go, so on Thursday afternoon, exactly one week and a day since they last slept together, Harry tries to casually mosey over to her car as she stands there, waiting for her kids to leave school. He watches as she visibly clenches her jaw and he clears his throat, standing next to her but refusing to give her eye contact. There’s a reason they don’t ever speak too much at pickup time, and it’s always to make sure no one suspects anything.
“You’re avoiding me.” he says through gritted teeth. She inhales through her nose and he peers down from the corner of his eye to see her expression. It’s difficult to tell when she’s wearing those ridiculously oversized sunglasses. 
“I’m not avoiding you.” she mutters, leaning her hip against the bumper of her black SUV. 
“Then why haven’t I seen you?”
Her nostrils flare as she runs her tongue over her teeth. 
“It’s barely been two weeks, Harry. Don’t be dramatic.”
He resists the urge to snort and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well fuck me for wanting to make sure you’re alright.”
“Keep your voice down,” she grumbles, flashing a forced smile to a mom who passes by them. She clears her throat and pushes her sunglasses into her hair. Harry’s relieved to finally be able to see her eyes. “I might be… pregnant.”
Despite the drop in his stomach, he’s able to maintain a stoic expression. He’s no longer the foolish teenager he once was — he and Y/N are both fully capable adults and would know how to approach an unwanted pregnancy, need be. What scares him more is the prospect of her wanting to keep the baby.
His mind is whirring at a million miles per hour when she grits out his name, bringing him back down to earth. He coughs. 
“My period is late but I haven’t had a chance to pick up a test yet, so don’t get your panties in a twist.” she replies lowly. They hear the school bell ring, signaling the official end to the day. They have about four minutes before the kids come running out through the front. 
“I’ll pick you up tonight at 9. Tell your husband you’re having a baking emergency or some shit.”
Y/N doesn’t have a chance to fight him before he’s walking away, headed back in the direction of his car to wait for his twins.
. . .
Harry parks down the road from Y/N’s house at 9 pm on the dot.
He feels like some sort of shitty spy with the way he’s turned his car lights off as he waits for Y/N to get in. He texted her as soon as he got there — they used to have a secret code word for their rendezvouses but it’s been months since they started, and Harry thinks they could fuck right in front of her husband and he wouldn’t even notice.
He sighs as he takes a sip from his reusable water bottle. He glances up at the rearview mirror for the tenth time in the past minute, his stomach calming some when he recognizes Y/N’s frame hustling towards his SUV. He presses the ‘unlock’ button as she wordlessly climbs in the passenger’s seat. Harry doesn’t say anything when he shifts the gear back into drive to pull out of her cul-de-sac. 
Finally, he asks: “Did your husband have an issue with you leaving?” 
Y/N tries not to roll her eyes. 
“No, but I also didn’t tell him I was having a ‘baking emergency’, like you so kindly suggested.”
“Oh, so you told him you have to go take a pregnancy test to make sure you’re not knocked up with some other guy’s kid?”
“Stop being a dick,” she mumbles, occupying her shaky hands by playing with the ends of her hair. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?” 
When she doesn’t reply, he sighs.
“The twins are at their mom’s for the next few days so after I dropped them off, I got a few tests from the pharmacy a few towns over. We’re going to my place so you can take them.”
Her stomach tightens. While she’s mainly worried about the results of the impending pregnancy tests, she’s also never been to Harry’s before. He’s never actually offered.
Y/N hums in response — it’s apparent she doesn’t have much of a choice, and quite frankly, she’d rather take them there than go back to her own home and do it. A silence blankets them once again as he drives through their quiet suburban neighborhood.
Until Harry clears his throat. 
She cranes her neck to look at him, quirking an eyebrow as a wordless encouragement to say whatever stupid thing he’s thinking. 
“If it’s positive… you’re not… you’re not gonna have the kid, right?”
She sighs noisily. “Do I look like I’m in the position to deal with that? I already feel guilty enough fucking you behind his back.”
“He pays you no attention, Y/N. Your pussy is always completely depraved when we hook up. You shouldn’t feel bad.”
Y/N ignores the way her skin warms at the casual filth that falls from his lips. 
“To answer your initial question, no, I wouldn’t keep them. I would get an abortion.”
He doesn’t respond to that, which leaves her to believe it’s a satisfactory reply. 
It’s only a few more minutes before Harry’s pulling into the three-car garage attached to his house. They move silently and quickly, as if any one of his neighbors could come out and see them together — she supposes it’s a possibility, but their town is usually asleep by 8:30 at the latest. She follows him in through the side door, which apparently takes them into the kitchen. He flicks some lights on as he digs in his pocket, pulling three small boxes out and tossing them on the kitchen island. 
“Take your pick,” he says before nudging his chin in the direction of the hallway. “There’s a bathroom down there.”
Somehow, she’s unsurprised that he got the most expensive options — the ones with the digital screens that spell out “you’re pregnant!” with a smiley face on it. She grabs the first one and follows the direction that Harry led her in. Despite the harshness of the interior design (everything feels pristine thanks to white marbled flooring and light gray walls), she notices that he has a plethora of family photos that line the hallway. None of the pictures include his ex-wife, who left Harry three or so years ago. She remembers it being a huge deal in their small community. They were both gorgeous, a completely picturesque family that seemed completely destined to be together. Rumors flew about the divorce — everything from Harry sleeping with his wife’s assistant to her running away to Aruba — but Y/N never cared to find out what really happened. In fact, she and Harry didn’t really speak until they started sleeping together.
Her mind wanders back to the task at hand when she closes the bathroom door behind her. She’s taken many pregnancy tests in her life — she has two kids, after all. It’s a straightforward process and she gently places the cap back on the stick, placing it on the sink as she waits for it to process. After flushing and washing her hands, she nibbles on her bottom lip, watching as the little bar loads.
. . .
Harry thinks he’s going to vomit as he waits for Y/N to emerge from the bathroom. 
He hasn’t felt this way in years. Despite the twins being his entire life nowadays, when his ex first got pregnant with them, he spent months sick with worry. And although Y/N already assured him that she wouldn’t keep it if she is pregnant, the thought of her carrying his child still makes him woozy.
His head snaps up when he hears the bathroom door creak open. A few moments later, her sneaker-clad feet carry her back into the kitchen. She holds the stick in her hands and Harry’s eyes bulge at it. 
“Negative,” she breathes, putting it down on the table, as if to prove it. “No baby.”
He sighs out in relief. “Thank fuck.”
She nods. “Just make sure you destroy this or whatever,” she mumbles, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. It’s only then that Harry realizes how exhausted she looks. She has deep bags under her eyes and her lips look worn from constantly biting them. “Listen, I’m fine if you want to stop messing around. This was scary.”
Harry raises his eyebrows. “It was a pregnancy scare. It happens to everyone.”
“Yeah, but there’s more consequences for us.”
He shrugs. “We would’ve taken care of it.”
She’s too exhausted to fight him on his nonchalant nature, so she just sighs instead. 
“I take it that you don’t want to stop, then?” she asks, pursing her lips at the male. 
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“Okay,” she nods, “We’ll just need to be more careful, then.”
“Sure.”
She swallows, glancing past him to read the time on the stove. “I guess I’ll get going then.”
“I can drive you home.” he says quickly, grabbing his keys off the table.
She doesn’t reject his offer, especially now that the adrenaline from the evening has officially worn off. For the second time that night, she sits in the passenger’s seat of Harry’s car, allowing him to chauffeur her back to her house. He drives down to the spot he picked her up in, at the very end of her road so no one sees him dropping her off. 
“Thank you,” she murmurs as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Sorry about all this.”
“It’s fine, shit happens. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
It may be the nicest thing he’s ever said to her and she doesn’t know what to say. Instead, she simply flashes him a small smile before moving to open the car door. 
“Wait—” Harry reaches out to press his hand to her knee. Y/N glances down at his touch and he quickly rips it away. “Are you around sometime next week? For me to come by?”
She doesn’t even consider what her schedule looks like before she turns to look at him. 
“Yeah. Come over whenever you want.”
He sends her a wide grin as she climbs out of his car.
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moonstruckme · 8 months
Note
i’m obsessed with everything you write! you write our boys so well 🖤🖤 could I request poly!marauders maybe with some casual dominance and just taking care of the reader? like picking out her clothes, making sure she eats, just being protective but also so soft with her
Thanks lovely! Here you go :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
“Morning, angel,” James chirps as you step into the kitchen. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, thanks.” You take the coffee he hands you, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “You?”
“Phenomenally. How do you want your eggs?”
“I’m alright without, thanks though.” You sit down next to Remus at the table, taking a sip of your coffee. It’s just the way you like it, with heaps of cream and sugar. 
“Can’t skip breakfast, dove,” Remus says, hardly looking up from the newspaper as he speaks to you. 
“I don’t feel like eggs,” you reply, watching him warily over the top of your mug, trying to gauge if he might let it go. “And I’m not really hungry anyway.” 
Amber eyes flick up to yours as Remus turns the page. “You’re not going to work on an empty stomach. You need to eat something.” 
“I’ll make you something else,” James offers sweetly. “Whaddya want, my love?”
You smile at him, batting your eyelashes. “Could I have some toast please, Jamie?”
He flips his spatula expertly, winking at you. “Might be above my skill level, but I’ll do my best for you, angel.”
You laugh, and Remus rolls his eyes at the both of you. Sirius trods in still wearing his pajama bottoms, a smirk coming to his lips as he reads the room instantly. 
“In trouble already?” he drops a kiss on the top of your head, reaching over to squeeze Remus’ shoulder in greeting. “What’ve you done now, hm?”
Your eyes dart nervously to Remus, waiting to see if he’ll rat you out. Though Remus is the sternest of your boyfriends, Sirius delights in being in charge, and you know he’ll rub it in the most. You imagine it’s the older brother in him. 
“It’s resolved,” Remus says simply, and you think you detect the faintest twitch of his lips when you grin at him in relief. 
“Siri, have you seen the leaves outside?” you ask hastily, going for the distraction before he can attempt to pry further. “It’s like they finally turned just overnight.” 
He takes the bait, leaning back in his seat to peer out the window. You’d been ecstatic when you’d cracked the curtains in your bedroom this morning to see your street had taken on a whole new color palate, everything red and orange and golden. “It does finally look like autumn, doesn’t it?” He gives you a critical once-over. “That isn’t going to do for the chill out there, sweetheart.”
You look down at your skirt and blouse. You quite like this outfit. “You think? It’s not supposed to be that cold yet, is it?”
Sirius raises a brow just as Remus finishes with the paper, folding it and looking up to see what the two of you are on about. “It’s September, love,” he reasons. “If it got cold enough last night to turn the leaves, it’s cold enough to at least wear a jumper.” 
“I’m thinking fleece tights and a sweatshirt,” Sirius says contemplatively, more to Remus than to you. “Don’t run off after breakfast, dollface, and I’ll go pick them out for you.” 
You start to protest, but then Sirius’ mouth drops open, and you turn to see James teetering toward you, balancing four plates across his arms. 
“Fucking hell, Prongs,” he breathes, but James manages to distribute all four dishes safely, setting your toast in front of you last with a flourish. 
“Good idea,” he says, picking up the previous conversation as though nothing has happened. “Can’t have our girl shivering out there in the cold.” 
You roll your eyes but munch happily on your toast, ignoring how Remus eyes you watchfully as you eat. 
Since you finish first, you offer to wash up while Sirius goes and selects the additions to your outfit as he sees fit, changing into them afterwards. You have to admit, the day does look promisingly crisp outside your bedroom window, and the tights and sweatshirt he has you layer with what you already have on are soft and comfy. 
“Let me get those for you,” James offers as you pull on your shoes, and you place your foot on his knee obediently, letting him tie them both with a firm pat on the side of your shoe once he’s done. “There y’go, angel. Double-knotted and everything.” 
You press a rewarding kiss to his cheek, and Sirius comes in from canoodling with Remus to oversee his handiwork. He hums, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in your tights and adjusting the sweatshirt on your shoulders unnecessarily while you and James exchange glances, each fighting to keep a straight face. “Might need a scarf too,” he muses, and James bursts into laughter.
“Siri, come on,” you protest, unable to contain a few giggles of your own. 
James grabs Sirius around the waist, throwing him onto the bed beside you. “Work on your own outfit, Pads.” 
“You’re all going to be late if you don’t get going,” Remus says, smiling at the scene as he comes in. James detaches himself from Sirius, his expression morphing into that well-practiced facade of angelic innocence. 
“I was just on my way out,” he says, giving Remus a goodbye kiss. “See you all later.” He pats you on the head as he passes, and then he’s out the door. 
Remus moves to the bed, leaning over Sirius, who props himself up on his elbows to meet him halfway. “Get dressed,” Remus says as he breaks the kiss, tucking a piece of silky black hair behind Sirius’ ear. “You can’t afford to be late again, love.” 
You stand as he moves to you next, wrapping a long-fingered hand around the side of your hip, and you let your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you sweetly. “Be good,” he says softly, placing an additional kiss at your temple. “I’ll see you tonight, dovey.” 
“See you tonight,” you echo, and then it’s just Sirius and you, his eyes playful as they meet yours. 
“Be good,” he coos mockingly. “Think you can do that all day long?”
You grin, picking up your bag from the end of the bed. “Hey, at least I’m dressed.” 
“Oi!” Sirius says as you leave the room. “Where’s my kiss?”
“Sorry,” you reply gaily, “can’t be late. You can’t afford to either, remember?” 
“Oh, feeling bold, are we?” he calls after you. “We’ll see how bold you are later tonight.”
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.
His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.
It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.
He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.
She sounds… happy.
“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”
Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.
“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.
“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.
He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.
“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”
The message ends.
In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.
See you tonight.
He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.
-
He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.
He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.
The gates spread, at the end.
There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.
But he knows.
He knows.
-
“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.
It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.
He’s never going to know.
“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”
Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”
“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.
Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”
He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.
It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.
“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.
“Don’t,” Steve says.
He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.
They’re all just pretending.
-
He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.
He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.
Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.
And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?
But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—
A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.
Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”
“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.
He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”
It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.
“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”
Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.
“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”
Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.
“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”
Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.
“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”
Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.
Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.
He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.
This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.
Why?
A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.
Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.
Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.
“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”
“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”
Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.
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gimmeurtmi · 1 year
Text
stray kids and… things they only share with you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: ot8, established relationships, fluff
warnings: swearing, lowkey angst for han, i don’t actually know the gender of min’s cats okay, idk if there’s anything else?
notes: this is my first time doing an ot8 thing so feedback is appreciated <3 also idk if they’re the same length i just wrote lol
chan… headphones
you’re on chan’s bed, a book in hand as you read while chan works. quality time is very important to you, even if he is observed in his work and doesn’t say much while you’re reading.
every now and again he’ll get up for a drink and silently put one by your side, too. when he’s done something he’s specifically proud of he’ll let out a giggle and maybe clap his hands, instinctively turning to you with a smile even if he doesn’t stop to explain what made him happy.
if you’re feeling a little more touchy that day, he’ll happily let you wrap your arms around his shoulder as his focus remains on his work. he’ll let you pepper kisses on his cheek, blushing lightly, before you get bored and go back to your own work.
when he’s done making something he really likes he turns to you with a grin.
“mate,” he says, face beaming. “mate!”
“come on,” you say, marking your place in your book before putting it aside. you extended your hand to him, and he grabs the headphones he’s been using and hands them to you.
you place them securely on your head and nod at him, ready to listen. chan plays the track for you, finally resting his head on your shoulder.
he wraps his hand around your bicep, closing his eyes softly as he picks up the very faint sound of the track playing through the headphones.
when it’s done you smile down at him, ready to praise him, but his mouth is open—soft breathes leaving his lips, and so you know he’s asleep.
instead you connect the headphones to your spotify and listen to a podcast while you rest your eyes. you don’t dare move, just in case chan might wake up from the disruption.
you know he might scold you for not waking him up, but it’s almost three am—and by what you’ve just listened to it’s safe to say he finished the track, so there’s no reason he shouldn’t be allowed to sleep after his hard work.
you let yourself fall asleep as well once the podcast you’ve been listening to is over, carefully putting the headphones to the side as you know how important they are to chan.
the first time he let you use them you gasped, but he insisted since you left your pair at home and wanted to listen to music while studying without bothering chan’s concentration.
“i have a lot of pairs anyway,” he said calmly, “borrow them whenever you need.”
minho… cat snacks
you both sit on the floor of his parents’ house, full from the dinner minho cooked for you and his family. you were talking about your new neighbour who you swore had a pet wolf. minho kept saying it isn’t a wolf, that he even spoke to the man and it’s just a cross breed.
you insist it’s a wolf.
his father sides with him, saying that would have to be illegal, but before you can offer your argumatives points, dori walks over to you, sits in your lap, and starts meowing loudly.
“he really is just like you,” you say to minho. he cocks his head to the side. “he wants something so he comes to me and starts making noise.”
“he’s hungry,” minho explains, rolling his eyes at your comment.
he gets up and grabs three snack packs, handing you one before he calls the other two over for some dinner.
from the corner of your eye you can see minho’s mum staring at you, in complete shock—but you try not to get too paranoid about it. you know she likes you, minho promised she likes you.
you instead focus on the cat in your lap, now meowing even louder once the snack came into view. you quickly open it and offer it up, giggling at the way he eagerly starts licking at the food.
when you glance over at minho you freeze, noticing the tension in the air.
“am i doing it wrong?” you whisper, as if dori might judge you for that question.
he shakes his head slowly but doesn’t say anything else. his mum quickly brings up another subject, asking you all about that incident at work you mentioned on your last visit.
minho helps them clear the last of the plates and cups that are left, insisting you sit down even after you offered to help three times.
soonie approaches you slowly before sitting down right on top of your phone.
you start talking to her, explaining the logic behind her actions, and she then shows you her stomach. you instantly start scratching it, knowing if she’s anything like her big brother she’ll start rioting if she doesn’t get the attention she wants.
after a few minutes of cooing at the cat you feel someone sitting down next to you, a pair of big hands wrapping around your waist, minho placing his chin on your shoulder.
“my mum just told me off,” he says, and you can hear the grin on his face.
“what did you do?”
“apparently i have never in all my life let anyone else feed the cats with me.”
“she was looking at me weird,” you mumble, “didn’t think it would be over something so simple.”
“you know the cats mean the world to me, right?” he looks at you, brows knitted together. now he’s looking at you weird—and it doesn’t help that they have the same confused face.
“yes, they’re your lockscreen and i’m not.”
“not this again,” minho sighs, but you simply grin at him.
“what’s your point?”
“i didn’t notice i do that, nor did i notice i gave you one of the snacks to feed them with,” is all his explanation. you manage to fill in the blanks yourself—knowing minho would never say it if it’s as painfully honest as you think it is.
you kiss his lips softly. “thank you for trusting me with your world.”
he nods, satisfied you understood him. like you always do.
changbin… phone
“hey, can you text the boys for me? tell felix we’ll be there in a second,” changbin says, handing you his phone as he keeps his eyes focused on the road.
“password?” you ask, trying to angle the phone towards his face until you remember it’s an android and it doesn’t even have face recognition.
“your birthday,” he says simply.
“simp,” you giggle, trying and failing to bite back your smile. changbin pays no mind to your comment, deciding being a simp for you is much better than ever letting you down—so he’ll accept that name proudly.
you text felix the details and put the phone back in the cup holder, focusing instead on the next song on changbin’s playlist.
“hey, can you order the food? i’m just gonna shower,” changbin asks as you enter the dorm. he came to pick you up right after his gym session, and while he didn’t want to see you while he was all sweaty he also didn’t want to make you wait any longer, so he still needs a shower.
you don’t have to ask for the passcode this time, easily keying in your birthday before ordering the food you talked about on your way home.
you notice he has solitaire on his phone, and while that might not be the most appealing game in the world you’re also extremely bored. you know you shouldn’t use his phone for anything other than what he’s asked you to, so you knock on the shower door quickly.
“binnie, can i play on your phone until the food’s ready?”
“of course, sweetheart!” he yells back.
you smile to yourself before plopping down on the couch and starting a new game.
the boys spent approximately forty five minutes taking pictures while all of you went to the han river for a picnic. it’s alright though, because they also took pictures of you with your boyfriend, and of you alone, so it’s not like you were excluded from the vanity game.
once the sun disappeared and the weather turned cooler you went back to the dorm to finish the rest of the food.
they were all looking over the pictures, deciding which was the best one to upload.
“who took the picture of me with the watermelon?” minho asks enthusiastically.
“binnie did,” you respond, as you spend your time focusing on the delicious cake felix made.
minho whines, considering changbin was taking one of his food naps at the moment and couldn’t show him the pictures.
you grab his phone from where he placed it down on the table and enter his gallery—handing the phone over to minho so he can look over the pictures.
he simply gasps at you.
“you know his passcode?”
you lock the phone again, showing minho that it was your thumb print that can unlock it.
“wow,” chan chuckles.
you don’t pay much attention to them though, far more invested in the cake, and so you get back to eating it while minho sends himself all the pictures off changbin’s phone.
hyunjin… jewellery
it starts flirtatious, like most things are with you and hyunjin. you’re playing with his hand, fiddling with his fingers, drawing circles on his wrist. you grab the ring on his finger and pull it off before placing it on the finger next to it. and then the finger next to it. you play this game for a few more minutes, hyunjin’s eyes practically turned into two hearts as he took in the amusement on your face. as he giggles, he grabs the ring from you and you pout—sad for the game to be over. but it isn’t, as the roles are now reversed, hyunjin moving the ring from finger to finger.
it’s then the waitress approaches your table, albeit hestitanly, and asks for your orders.
the ring stays on your hand all night.
“it suits you,” hyunjin says when you try and give it back.
“beautiful, can i have my ring?” he asks as he steps out of the shower a few days later. he has an event tonight, some important people he needs to meet, and he wants to look his best. jewellery is important for that.
“yeah, of course,” you don’t even hesitate. it was his ring to begin with, and he never officially gifted it as yours to keep. you were just looking after it for a bit.
when hyunjin gets back from paris he has a lot of gifts with him—all ysl branded and expensive. he shows off the clothes and the perfume and tells you all about the luxurious evenings him and felix enjoyed. of course, he sent you pictures as most of the events were taking place in front of him, but you enjoy his story telling even more when he’s right in front of you.
when he shows you the necklace he got you gasp, turning it over in your hand.
“it’s so pretty!” you gush. “that’ll look beautiful with a low neckline dress.”
“never wore a dress before,” his eyes twinkle at you.
you laugh at him and roll your eyes before handing the necklace back to him.
“you can wear it for that fancy meal we’re going to next week?” he offers simply.
you shake your head; not wanting to come off greedy. it was beautiful, and it must’ve been extremely expensive, and you already felt guilty for that comment you made. as if you’d just be allowed to wear it.
“i can’t take that, it was a gift from a brand partner. what will they say?”
“you’re not taking it,” hyunjin says simply, and you’re surprised by how quickly he’s giving up. “it’s a lend. you’ll wear it for that night and then give it back. and when you wanna wear it again just ask.”
“but i—“
he places his finger on your lips before pecking them softly, concluding the conversation for now.
jisung… demos
“baby! baby! baby! baby!” your boyfriend jumps in his seat as you answer the facetime call. sometimes you wonder where his energy supply comes from because it can’t possibly be natural.
it’s ten at night.
“hey, ji,” you smile at him. his energy is infectious, and the best thing to see after a long day of work.
“baby! i wrote the best song!” he smiles at you, his cheeks scrunched together as his face shines proudly.
“let’s hear it,” you ask, quickly grabbing your headphones so you could listen carefully.
he places the phone down against his water bottle, changing the view slightly.
his hair is hiding beneath a beanie, probably because he couldn’t be bothered to tame it, and his laptop is right in front of him.
other than that you can’t see much considering there’s only a small lamp illuminating the room, pointing only at the desk. there’s pieces of paper crumbled by the laptop—unwanted lyrics, you suppose.
“it doesn’t have a name yet,” he introduces, “and i might give it to the company because i’m not sure if the vibe is right for us. i think it could be right maybe if chan rearranges it a bit, but i don’t think it needs any change at all. maybe? maybe if felix sings the bridge then—“
“—hey! j.one!” he looks over at you, eyes wide and mouth in a small circle. “just play the song and then we can discuss it?”
he nods at you, sitting back in his chair and pressing play on his program.
the track starts playing loudly on the speakers around him. it’s slightly choppy, not the best quality to hear a song for the first time through a phone like this, but jisung is extremely impatient. he wanted you to hear the song right away, quite literally as soon as he finished recording the last part of it. so you didn’t mind straining slightly to try and catch all the lyrics.
jisung bops his head along to the beat, his face extremely serious as he listens back carefully.
you assume it’s only his second or third time hearing it back in completion since he doesn’t even monitor your reactions like he sometimes does—instead he’s taking notes.
you know his favourite part is coming up when his hand lifts into the air, dropping in time with the beat before the chorus plays again.
his eyebrows are scrunched together as a much faster rap verse starts, and you can tell he’s monitoring the cadence, even if it is just a demo track and he will most definitely re-record the vocals once he decides what to do with the track.
only when the song ends does he look back at you, expectedly, eyebrows high on his nervous face.
you clap your hands, nodding at him.
“nah, say what you actually think!” he all but scolds you.
“i think it deserved applause!”
he sends you a look before you go into more detail. what you thought of the beat, and the pace, and the sound, and the vibe. you aren’t professionally involved in music, you only know the words jisung taught you, but he still insists your opinion is more important than chan’s to him. you tell him that flattery isn’t useful in this situation, nor do you believe its true, but he stands by it.
“but the lyrics,” you start, and jisung’s eyes frown at your tone. “they’re incredibly moving, ji, but they’re so sad.”
“yeah,” he just nods, no longer looking at you.
“the beat doesn’t match how sad it is,” you comment, trying to disguise your worries as a simple criticism of the work.
“that’s on purpose though,” he says quickly, “i think it’s so sad that if the music matched it would be too much. plus, the feeling i’m talking about is acting like everything is normal, so a quick beat matches perfectly.”
you nod. “and why are you acting like everything is normal?”
jisung sighs, before he answers your question with a completely different one. “do you think i should give the song to someone else?”
“no,” you say, “felix would suit the bridge. and an emotional song is always best when it’s sang by someone that can relate.”
“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he says, knowing where you’re trying to take the conversation.
“and yet you called me to listen to it,” you cock your eyebrows up.
jisung rests his head against the chair for a moment, looking up as he thinks over his next words carefully. then he tells you all about it—the inspiration behind another one of his sad songs. you listen carefully, humming and nodding and offering your support and your words when he asks for them.
after about an hour on the phone a warning comes up to tell you you only have 20% left.
you go to grab your charger, and the pause in conversation causes the subject to move to your day and your plans for the weekend before they circle back to the song.
you do really like it, and tell him as such, encouraging him to show it to chan and the others soon.
after you say your goodbyes, and you reassure jisung of how much you love him, you go to sleep with the beat still stuck in your head.
when you tell jisung that the next morning he decides he can’t possibly give that track to anyone else—not even his band.
the company like it so much they let him release it as one of his solo tracks—his face beaming when he tells you the news two weeks later. right before playing another new song for you.
felix… games
“no way!” you gasp as you look around felix’s room for the very first time. he has all sorts of trinkets and fairy lights and even a beautiful piece of artwork on the wall. and then there’s his computer with the huge double monitor—which looks more expensive than anything else you’ve seen in the house so far.
but by the monitor there is a glass case, and inside it is an original gameboy.
“does it still work?” you ask enthusiastically.
“of course it does,” he scoffs, “i play it all the time.”
“you play your switch all the time,” you correct him.
“and then i play a little bit of that one,” he says, “it has the first ever pokémon on it.”
“what other games do you have for it?” you ask, eyes sparkling at him.
felix pulls out a box from the shelves above his monitor and hands it to you.
you opened it quickly, picking up all the different games inside it. all the popular ones are there, as well as ones you’ve never even heard of before. you can count at least three dozen in there. there’s also games for a nintendo ds (you spot a pink one on the shelf where the box once was), at least another dozen. you sigh and hand the box back to him.
“you really are a nerd, yeah?”
felix grins at you before giving you a sloppy kiss and carefully placing the box back on the shelf.
the tour continues as felix shows you his collection of twice albums and mangas and his deadpool mask he used for a performance once.
he further proves your point when he starts telling you just how rare one of his comic books are, but you indulge him. you think nothing is more rare than the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about his nerdy stuff—as if he brought down the whole galaxy into this very room—so you give him your full attention as he speaks.
later that night, when you’re both fed and dressed in comfier clothes, him and his younger roommates start playing a game. felix only said yes because you were showering (and you said it’ll take a while because you wanted to do a hair mask) but now that you’re back he asks the boys to pause it.
“no, no, it’s fine!” you say, not wanting to get on their bad side on your first night staying over. “maybe i can play on your ds in the meantime?”
seungmin snickers to himself, but he’s so focused on the game you’re not sure it was in response to what you said.
“i saw that you had nintendogs and i can definitely entertain myself with that while you guys finish your… mission or whatever it is.”
“y/n, let me stop you right there,” jeongin smirks, eyes still focused on the screen. “no one is allowed to touch hyung’s games so—“ felix elbows his friend, but that doesn’t stop him from talking, “—we’re only allowed to use the xbox when he’s with us and because we have our own controllers.”
“i almost died once before i was made aware of that rule,” seungmin adds.
you notice felix’s cheeks have gone red, his freckles dusting over the new colour. he’s always been extremely generous to you—if it was gifts or his time or his things. but if his games were a line for him you didn’t want to cross it, nor did you mean to.
“oh, of course!” you say quickly, “i can just do something else. you guys enjoy the game!”
you move to get up but felix stops you, placing a hand on your knee before he pauses the game. luckily they weren’t in the middle of a fight or anything, so the boys don’t protest too much.
felix places a kiss on your cheek before he gets up, walks to his room, and comes back with the console in his hand.
you can see seungmin’s jaw drop.
“what?” you blink up at felix as he places the game in your hand.
“you can start a new game and name it so i’ll know it’s yours for whenever you come over,” he smiles simply, nodding at you.
“unbelievable,” jeongin mumbles.
“i guess there really is such a thing as girlfriend privilege,” seungmin shakes his head.
felix smiles at you when you power up the console, kissing your temple when you shuffle closer to him. then he gets back to the game—not letting either of his roommates comment on the situation further.
seungmin… hoodies
“no,” seungmin says simply.
jisung was stood in your hotel room, begging seungmin to let him borrow that hoodie of his, the one with the red heart on the front. according to jisung, it’s exactly what his outfit is missing.
“what about that hoodie you wore yesterday?”
“no, the heart is what makes it because i’m gonna wear a red bandana and—“
“—so you’re stealing minnie’s whole fashion sense?” you chime in. seungmin smirks proudly at his friend as he raises his eyebrows.
“no, uh, i just wanna try something different,” jisung defends.
“if i may,” you try, offering your own fashion advice. jisung had a very nice cardigan with a hint of red in it, and you reminded him of that. he thought it over.
“a hoodie would be warmer though,” he tries again, flashing your boyfriend the best puppy eyes he could master.
“sorry, hyung,” seungmin shakes his head, “y/n already called that hoodie for tonight.”
jisung looks over at you, eyes wide.
“you couldn’t have said that earlier? i’ve been stood here wasting my time!” he rants some more as he leaves the room, letting the whole floor know about his inconsiderate friend that won’t let him live his fashion life to the fullest.
you laugh as his voice dies down slowly.
“so now i gotta find an outfit that works with that hoodie i guess?” you raise your eyebrows at him.
you did not call that hoodie for tonight at all actually, but if that was seungmin’s only excuse, you didn’t want to contradict him in front of his extremely stubborn friend.
“you could’ve just let him borrow it for tonight,” you try reasoning.
“nope,” seungmin pouts, “you’re the only one that should be wearing my hoodies.”
you laugh at him, wrapping your arms around him as you kiss his jaw softly.
“now i feel bad,” you tease, “i get bestowed with such an honour and i don’t even want your hoodie.”
he gasps. “you steal them all the time!”
“yeah,” you scrunch your face as you chuckle, “but now that you gave me permission i don’t want them anymore.”
“you’re so annoying,” he groans, pinching your sides. you yelp, jumping at the sensation before slapping his shoulder.
“i will wear it,” you say simply, “but only so ji doesn’t think you’re a liar.”
you walk towards the closet, where seungmin unloaded his whole suitcase into, and pick out the now infamous hoodie. you smile softly to yourself—it really is your favourite of his.
seungmin chuckles at your reaction, before sucking his teeth. “we’ll be late for dinner, come on.”
jeongin… personal space
jeongin does not like physical affection. he doesn’t do hugs or kisses or cuddles. that’s his rule.
but every rule has an exception and you’re the living proof.
when anyone else tries to touch him he squirms away, usually making a comment suitable for a spoiled child. but whenever you’re near him he does everything in his power to be closer to you.
if you’re walking down the street he’ll wrap his pinky around yours or sometimes he’ll fully grab your hand and sway your arms as you two walk.
he’ll play with your hair a lot too, always making sure to move it out the way before you start digging into your meal so it doesn’t get in your food.
if you’re watching a movie his thighs are in your lap and his arms around you. maybe he’ll even put his head on your shoulder if he’s a little sleepy that night.
and he refuses to fall asleep without his hand lazily sprawled across your body in some way or another.
the boys are definitely jealous, so they try their luck with jeongin after they see the physical affection between you two.
he still pushes them away with disproportionate disgust.
one time you were there to witness it and he fully grabbed you—using your body as a shield between him and chan’s attempted cuddles.
“no touchy!” he reminds him, grabbing onto your arms as he makes himself as small as possible to avoid chan reaching him.
“it’s not fair,” chan whines, “you let her touch you all the time!”
“channie-hyung,” jeongin pokes his head around your shoulder, ready to push you between him and his attacker at any moment if needed. “you realise it’s different when it’s you.”
“why?”
“because i love her,” he says it so simply, as if chan is silly for even needing that explanation. as if that isn’t the first time he’s said that out loud.
chan raises his eyebrows in surprise and you’re sure he’s just mirroring your shocked facial expression.
“you don’t love me?” chan reacts quickly, letting the tension die in the air as he insists he must hug jeongin now. ducking behind you, he grabs onto him and pulls him away from you. jeongin escapes from chan’s grip and they both start running around the room like absolute children until chan tackles him into a bear hug.
later that night you’re in jeongin’s bed, his hands locked behind your back as he pulls you fully on top of him.
“innie,” you start, as casually as you can, “you know if you don’t like them in your personal space you can just say that.”
“yes, i tell them all the time. no touchy.”
“i meant, you didn’t have to say that to chan just as an excuse,” you say, your finger wrapping around the string of his hoodie.
jeongin knits his brows as he looks at you.
“huh?”
“just… don’t feel like you have to lie.”
“lie? what are you talking about?”
he really doesn’t seem to remember what he said, so you swallow down the awkwardness and take a breath.
“you shouldn’t have told chan you lov—“ but before you can repeat what he said, jeongin’s eyes grow wide and his palm lands on your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else.
“i remember what i said now!” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “no, uh, no need to repeat it!”
you bite down on his palm gently, enough to get him to yelp and retreat his hand away so you can speak your mind.
“so you meant it?”
the redness on his cheek is enough of an answer, but jeongin decides to verbalise it, too. “no.”
“innie, don’t lie to me!”
he grabs you closer, practically shoving your head into his neck so you don’t see his warm face. he grunts.
“i, i didn’t, well, it’s just—“
“i love you, too.”
the grip on your waist loosens for only a moment before he squeezes you even closer to him, regardless of how your airways are coping.
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softlyspector · 3 months
Text
I know I posted a fic literally yesterday but once again the muse seized me randomly while I was bored at work. This was written on my phone, that's how you know something really possessed me.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: body worship, joel worshiping you🫵, not exactly smut but smuttish, poetic smut, descriptions of body hair, #bush in fic 2024, joel on his knees, one brief mention of being hungry, mentions of violence, etc etc etc, you know how it goes.
He loves your body. 
The shape of you beneath clothes, material pulled here and there, rucked up and messy. Curve of hip, slope of waist, tuck of your knee to the side when you’re angry, arms crossed over chest, taut shoulders thrown back. 
The shape of you in nothing. Pretty hills and valleys. The roll of scar and naked skin, the snaking spill of you, the jiggle of you when you move—over him, under him, everywhere. The bounce of your breasts when he thrusts into you. 
He loves the warmth of you, soft, fitted like a glove. Rough with him sometimes but always soft somewhere. 
The weight of your body draped over his, the curl of strong fingers through his hair, yanking sometimes, pressure on his throat with the other. 
He loves the heat of you, the press of you against him in the cold, icy, frozen, icicle fingers digging under his shirt, crawling up along his ribs, demanding, always, more and more. 
Joel doesn’t mind, doesn’t mind, never minds. 
The closeness of you well worth the trouble of the temperature you keep. Hands poking and prodding and always wanting more. 
It’s good to be wanted. Nice to feel needed. 
He needs to be needed. Needs it, needs it, needs it, like an ache that might never get satiated, might never get swallowed up by something bigger and brighter. 
But there’s you again, all plush curves and sweet lines and sharp edges. You tell him he’s good, and he loves you for it. 
He loves bloodying his fists for you, he loves the angles of your love. 
You curl over him, making noises that no human, earth bound person should be able to make. 
There’s the touch of your forehead to his, the pant of hot breath against his mouth. He loves the shape of your mouth, the curve of your lips when they drift over his cheek. 
He loves the weight of your breasts in his hands, the stiff peaks of your nipples beneath his thumbs, the strong press of your thighs around his hips, the curve of your calves against his back, the thick thatch of hair between your legs. 
He loves the pressure of your thighs around his head and the way it feels when your cunt squeezes his tongue, the taste of your body on his mouth and stuck in his beard. 
He loves the way you stand when you’re pissed off, and likes the way the harsh lines disappear when you’re not, when you look at him, when you look down at him and the way he peels your jeans from your body and buries his face between your legs. 
The naked soft, pillowy, willowy silhouette of you in the window, in the pale moonlight, sometimes with blood still staining your skin and sometimes without.  
There’s the way you drag your tongue up the underside of his cock, the teasing, warm ring of your mouth suckling around the tip before you swallow him down, buried to the hilt. 
Hands against the sides your face, the back of your neck, behind the shell of your ear. He likes the way the skin feels there, smooth and unblemished. 
He loves the way you look after a fight, bloody and sweaty, brow creased. Loves more the way you smell, like sweat and earth, musky.
It should not be possible to love your body more, the thing that housed you, beautiful, scarred, treasure that you are. Still he finds new things to love, new places to touch and taste, the knob of bone in your ankle, the pouched swell of your belly when you’ve actually gotten a good meal for once, that space behind your knee and how sensitive it is. 
The hair between your legs and under your arms and downy soft on your calves and arms. You find a razor once and shave. Not everywhere, just under your arms and your calves, and for a while, those parts of you are smooth, and he doesn’t actually like it that much, it doesn’t feel like you, not that his opinion about it really matters. 
Lord help him, but he’d dig into your any way you let, in any condition. Sink under skin and hair and sweat and all the sweet animal parts of you. God, you’re beautiful. And it feels like a sin. 
But the blade is dull anyway and when you accidentally cut yourself for the third time in so many days, you just toss it with a shrug. 
Joel is secretly relieved. He wraps your cut ankle and kisses your smooth legs and hopes the hair grows back quick. You hate it when it's still growing and prickly. He’s glad you never shaved your pussy, he would have missed too badly burying himself in those curls, mouth or cock. 
Skin like pomegranate seeds, like the sweet burst of something sour under his tongue. Admission to the obsession, the love, the tracery of veins in moonlight like milk, would be wrong. This worship is secret, press of lips to feet, bowing low to the power you hang like a knife over his head. Blade ready to drop and offered anyway, lamb to slaughter. That’s his place there with you. 
There’s the sick need to protect when you don’t need it, follow where you ask him not to go. 
Partners, always. 
Everything else, sometimes. 
Last thing about you, voice. 
Terrible, husky voice. He longs to hear you sing, pretends to believe you when you say you can’t. But he’s heard it when you think he isn't’ around, or isn’t listening. He knows the calluses on your fingertips because they match the ones on his. 
That’s too close, too knowing, seeing too much history blended onto your skin. 
You trace the scar on the bridge of his nose every time he lies with you, presses his mouth to yours and listens to the noises and songs you will give him, questions that go unasked and unanswered. 
Tracery of scars nearly everywhere, skin like seasalt, the ache of knees pressed to floorboards which groan louder with each passing year, forehead against your belly, the thread of your fingers in his hair yanking his head back, petting so softly.
One night, blasphemous, you’re looking at him and he’s looking back. Your hand is on his collarbone, stroking, and the night is so quiet. “You’re so beautiful,” you say to him. “Did you know that?”
531 notes · View notes
luveline · 3 months
Note
id love a fic of aaron hotchner with a reader who struggles with feeling interesting or desirable!! i love your work sm you're lovely!!
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
The table grain is flaking off under your nail. Oh, ew, you think, lips turning down into a frown. You pick at your nail, wonder if that’s disgusting, and hide your hands under the table rather than continue to scratch it apart. 
The team are talking about their weekend plans. You’re not super hungry and these conversations tend to put you off either way; faced with the smallness of your own life outside of them, you waver in a tepid mix of jealousy and insecurity. There’s no point offering your plans. Compared to them, it’ll sound strange. 
Morgan’s buying a house. Reid’s going to a University for a private seminar given by one of the country’s leading geneticists. Hotch will be spending the weekend with his family, hopefully teaching Jack how to swim. It goes on and on and on. They all have interests and people and things to do, and you’ll be tucking yourself into bed to try and forget you don’t. 
Hotch glances at you again, the fourth time in as many minutes. You decide to pretend you’ve only noticed this time rather than having felt every look, turning your face subtly to his. 
You okay? he asks without speaking, his eyebrows raised a touch, his gaze searching. 
You smile easily. You’re practised in this. 
He reaches under the table for your thigh. Your breath catches, your face squared into hopeless unaffectedness as he rubs your knee. Things with him are achingly new, months and months of wanting and now weeks of getting to have it, but perhaps that’s why you’re feeling your inadequacy so harshly. Why does he want to touch you? Forget interesting, you aren’t interesting, and you certainly aren’t pretty. 
He gives your knee a gentle shake as he rubs your leg through your pants, as though saying, I’m here, or even cheer up.  
You smile down at your plate. I’m fine. 
“Time to turn in,” Hotch says, dropping his napkin onto his plate. 
Your head snaps up to look at him, worried you’ve pissed him off and missing the heat of his hand, but he’s holding his hand out toward you in such a way that you read him. Come with me.
“Me too,” you say. “I’m tired.” 
You’re not even halfway down the hall out of the hotel restaurant when he’s grabbing you from behind, a huge hug that surprises you into loud, loud laughter. “Hotch–”
“Try again.” 
“Aaron,” —he walks you a few dragging steps to an alcove, where he turns you, holding your waist— “this is brute force!” You laugh. 
“This is concern. What’s wrong?” 
He’s trying to be the cheerful one. It’s working, some, but it adds another layer to your self-doubt; your grumpy, sweetheart boyfriend is never not smiling when he’s alone with you. It doesn’t make any sense. 
“Nothing,” you say, laughing again as he squeezes your hip meanly. “It’s brute force!” 
“You’re a liar,” he says, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “My liar, but a liar. A bad one, considering.” 
“Yes, well, all the teasing is making it better, so thanks.” 
He kisses under your jaw. He feels encompassingly tall, and his affection makes you feel better no matter how much you’d wanted to be sullen. You lean heavily against the wall and let him kiss you, your hand coming up to his hair, fingers raking through the soft crop of inky hair at his neck. “You’re sulking,” he says between kisses, shivers at your back from his eager touching. 
“I’m boring.” 
“Where might you get that idea?” 
“I have nothing to do this weekend. When we get home, I have nothing to do but lie in bed.” 
“I wish that was my weekend.” He peels back. He doesn’t hold your face, but the way he looks at you has the same effect. So strange how he can make you feel cared for in such a simple action. “You can always come with me, hm? We’ll have the weekend together. Jack won’t mind.” 
“Thank you… it’s a nice offer.” You’ll take it. 
“But not the problem.” He’s standing close enough to get you in trouble should a teammate come from the restaurant after you. Still, he stays close, the very tips of his fingers pushing against the hem of your shirt to touch the naked small of your back. “Will you come over?” he asks in a murmur. 
“I’d love to,” you say honestly. “I just wish I was more interesting.” 
Your confession makes him frown. “In what world aren’t you?”
“This one.” 
“That’s not true. You’re interesting, you’re so smart. You’re lovely.” 
You turn your face from him, heart beating a sudden pitter patter. He turns you right back to him with a finger to your chin. 
“You’re everything,” he says. 
“But I feel so… nothing.” 
His frown intensifies. “How long have you been feeling like this, honey? You could’ve told me. I wish you’d told me, because–” He pinches your chin gently, encouraging you to meet his eyes, “I would’ve told you a long time ago that you’re not nothing, you couldn’t be. It’s easy to feel like you don’t know what you’re doing, at your age–”
“Careful.” 
“It’s true. You think you’re so old, but you have time.” 
“I’m not old,” you acquiesce. 
His hand moves to your cheek. “But you have so many frown lines.” 
“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, Hotchner. We’re done.” 
He raises his other hand to hold your face completely. “You are so, so amazing. You just need to recognise it in yourself.” 
You wait for him to kiss you, and then realise what he’s doing. “Maybe I'm amazing,” you say shyly. 
He kisses you on the lips, gentle, as though you were easily breakable. A little rougher when you smile, and rougher again when you touch his chest. “We’ll get caught,” he says, planting another quick one on you before pulling away. “Come on. Let’s get a head start on the weekend.” 
“We’ll definitely get caught,” you say. Sharing a room is always a stupid idea. 
“And what a shame it’ll be,” he says, taking your hand to rub your fingers affectionately as he leads you toward the elevators. 
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7ndipity · 4 months
Text
Aftercare Headcanons
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: How each member would handle aftercare with their S/o
Warnings: mentions of sex(nothing explicit tho), not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!(note: since I did a similar list for Hobi a while back, part of his section is kinda reiterations from that post).
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Jin:
Aftercare with him is pretty quiet, tbh. He tends to get a lil shy after sex, especially if it was a rougher, more intense session, so he mainly likes to just hold you and talk for a while to help you both calm down.
He’s pretty simplistic when it comes to his routine(hydrate, wash up, sleep), but he’s super cute and gentle about the whole process, cracking lame jokes here and there to make you laugh(lowkey bc it’s part of how he checks to make sure you’re in a good headspace afterwards, but also just bc it’s Jin)
Lots of soft kisses and lingering touches as the two of you clean up(loves showering with you and would totally just stay in there hugging you till the water runs cold)
Will happily make you both some snacks if you’re hungry, but he definitely needs a nap with you to fully recharge.
Yoongi:
As I’ve said before, acts of service is his main love language, so this is very much his wheelhouse.
He’s surprisingly cuddly after sex, especially if it was a more intense session. He finds quiet skinship afterwards even more important than during the act. He might restrict your hands so you can’t touch him during sex, but afterwards he’s making sure to hold them and let you touch and feel him, helping both of you ground yourselves.
He might not be the most elaborate with his routine, but he’s very serious about the basics. Like, he knows you might feel too tired to do much, but he will nag your ear off about dehydration and the dangers of UTIs if he has to till you drink some water and go to the bathroom.
He kinda melts when you look after him too, tending any scratches or marks and offering to massage any sore muscles. He’s used to being the one in the caregiver role, so when the roles reverse, he turns into the softest baby.
Hobi:
He’s so soft and giggly after sex, his hands never leaving you, playing with your hands as he leaves little kisses all over your face, speaking softly as he asks how you feel and if there’s anything you need.
He tends to go into caretaker mode a lil bit, making sure you have some water, maybe a snack if you feel up for it, carefully checking you over for any marks or sore spots that need extra care if it was a more intense session.
He almost forgets to look after himself as well until you kinda take the reins on him, treating him in much the same manner as he does you. Loves when you wash his hair for him in the shower.
After you’re both clean and back in the bed, he likes to just kinda hang out with you, watching a movie or show together, even though he almost always ends up falling asleep while you play with his hair.
Namjoon:
Honestly, he gets a little shy/nervous during aftercare? He knows he has a tendency of getting pretty rough even during softer sessions, so once he calms down and his head clears, he wants to make sure you’re okay and that he didn’t go overboard.
Handles you so tenderly and with so much gentleness. Takes a lot of pride in getting to look after you in such intimate ways, washing and drying your body, helping you get dressed, making sure you eat and drink something before you fall asleep, etc.
Absolutely melts at the way you take care of him afterwards too, always ready with gentle reassurances and soothing touches as you work out any soreness he has(could honestly lead to a super soft round two if you’re not careful)
He doesn’t usually fall asleep that quickly after sex, so once you’re both clean and settled in the bed or wherever, he likes to talk for a while till one of you falls asleep, tending to get a little sentimental as he goes on.
Jimin:
He’s so sweet and comforting after sex, aftercare with him would be full of the softest touches and kisses, refusing to leave your side for more than a minute(unless you want some time by yourself, then he’s waiting impatiently for the second you say okay so he can tackle you for another cuddle session)
Likes just getting to lay with you for a while as you come down, talking quietly while running his hands over your body absent-mindedly or playing with your fingers to help you both ground yourselves.
Takes looking after you quite seriously though, making sure you drink enough water and do some stretches to relieve any soreness in your limbs before moving on to the shower to clean up(where he will continue to hug/cling to you as you help wash each other)
Gets quite tired afterwards, but will only fall asleep once he’s sure you’re both okay and tended to, either holding you close to his chest or vice versa.
Taehyung:
He’s usually super sleepy after sex, so initial aftercare is pretty basic, but still super important for both of you.
He tends to get really clingy, needing to hold you close as the two of you talk and get your bearings, seeking reassurance that you’re okay and that you both feel good, that you love him, etc.
Honestly, you might have to take the reigns a little bit to make sure you’re both clean and hydrated and taken care of in those ways before he falls asleep on you(he just feels soo subby to me, I can’t)
In the morning/after a nap however, you’re waking up to a bubble bath, food, massages, the full royal treatment. He basically waits on you hand and foot for the next couple hours to make up for his initial lack of focus.
Jungkook:
He is so soft but serious about aftercare. He knows he can be more than a little rough when he’s lost in the moment, so he tries to counter that by being extra gentle with you afterwards.
He has the whole thing down to a system, it’s almost like a post workout routine for him, (lowkey the type to high-five you afterwards like “good job babe”🙄)
He’s honestly kinda hyper about the whole thing? Like, as soon as he manages to catch his breath, he’s immediately up and all over the place, getting you both some water, helping you to the bathroom to wash up(will straight up carry you if your legs are shaky) grabbing some fresh sheets if needed.
It’s only once you’re both clean and tended to that he kinda starts to slump and gets tired and cuddly, snuggling close to you before dozing off.
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