#I got this watch some time ago and have been trying to figure out how to display it safely while making it look cool

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2

In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.

Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts

(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)

You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 

The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 

So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 

Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 

“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 

“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 

Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 

Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 

You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 

It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 

“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 

This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 

“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 

“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.

“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 

Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 

“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 

Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 

“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 

Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 

“Lead the way, Maxie.”  

yourpersonalinsta posted a story

story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?

The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.

Alone, thank you very much.

The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 

Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 

“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  

“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 

You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 

As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 

The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 

Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 

You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 

Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 

Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 

The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 

You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 

Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 

The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 

“I know but just humor me.” 

You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 

“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 

Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 

“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 

“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.

The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.

He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.

Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 

You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 

You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 

Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 

“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 

Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 

Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 

The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 

A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 

“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 

“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 

Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 

“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 

You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.

Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 

“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 

It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 

You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 

“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.

Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 

He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!

There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.

“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.

Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”

“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.

Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.

You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.

Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.

The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.

"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.

You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.

Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.

"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.

All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.

"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.

You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.

Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.

"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.

"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.

You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.

"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.

You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.

"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.

His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"

"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.

"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"

When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.

Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"

You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 

Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 

The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find my clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.

“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  

That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 

Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.

“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”

maxverstappen1 posted:

838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?

yourpersonalinsta posted

231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)

maxverstappen1 private stories

story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though

@shelbyteller @martygraciesversion381 @anilovessadbooks @formulaal @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[ateez-himari]

[241113] GANGSTER OFF-DUTY

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[AM 1:09] Ice on my teeth on my, white teeth ✨ Atiny, are you ready for the comeback ? It's one of my favorite concepts

[AM 1:09] I like the pink hair too! 🩰My hair was already bleached grey for the concept photos so I figures that I might as well try another color

[AM 1:10] Omg yeah! My outfit was so cool...I felt like an actual crime boss when I put it on for the first time. I mean a lace bustier and Versace suit jacket ? Come on

[AM 1:10] I actually made the lariat necklace myself because I thought it would go well with the deep v-neckline, the rings were mostly gifts from Donatella

[AM 1:11] Ahh you guys noticed ? It's true, for the first time since our debut I'm the main producer on all tracks and I'm so glad our team trusted me so much

[AM 1:12] I know, I cried too when Sannie oppa sang 'Enough' on Leemujin Service (I went with him to the recording)

[AM 1:12] It's a very personal track because the lyrics are speaking to the version of myself that was in pain, so it's practically raw, kind of like my lines in 'Mist'

[AM 1:12] When I was recording the demo for the members, the 'God Damn' wasn't written into the song, it just came out naturally because of how I felt and I kept it in

[AM 1:13] I watched Arcane too, Yunho oppa and I binged it last night! I can't believe they let me make the song 'Paint The Town Blue' for them...

[AM 1:13] Yeah, singing in English was challenging but I think it turned out well! You can't really hear my accent that much since I practiced for a long time

[AM 1:13] You're right there's a lot of side projects that Tiny didn't know about ㅎㅎ But they'll stop for a bit, since I work in the music industry it's not always good for my hearing to be around noise constantly, so most of what's going to come out has been recorded before my hiatus

[AM 1:14] My instagram caption...? 🤔It's just a random sentence I don't know why you guys are looking into it so much

[AM 1:14] Ohhh! I didn't know that was part of G-Dragon sunbaenim's hidden tracklist now I get why everyone's been so suspicious of me lately

[AM 1:14] It would be nice to work with him...Too Bad I'm on external work break 🐉

[AM 1:15] Right now ? I was just reading a book that RM oppa sent me before I decided to talk to Tiny, then I'm making dinner for our dorm

[AM 1:16] I was originally supposed to room with Jongho oppa and Wooyoung oppa, but then they realized no one in the third dorm could cook so they moved me there

[AM 1:17] ㅎㅎI just saw someone say that they made Viktor attractive in the new season, you're right...the emo phase hit him well

[AM 1:17] Of course my boyfriend is way more attractive, there's no comparison 🤧But a girl can have her fictional crushes you know...

[AM 1:18] I'm so happy someone noticed! They put small grills on my canines because they look like little fangs, so it made them even cooler

[AM 1:18] Nuh uh I didn't steal the lip chain accessory from the MV set, I just borrowed it to take some pictures afterwards

[AM 1:18] I wasn't trying to tease you guys with it 🥺Just make a spoiler that no one would think twice about until the video came out I'M SORRYYYY

[AM 1:19] I sooo wasn't naked in that instagram post...I just wasn't wearing pants, there's a difference. But the members never wear shirts anyway!

[AM 1:19] Did my brother tell you guys to reprimand me about this ? Well for the record tell him to stop showing his tits off on my feed 🤧

[AM 1:20] Well...no I'm not wearing any pants right now...but it's my sleeping outfit! My underwear is really cute though it has a little ribbon! I got them yesterday with Mingi...Seonghwa oppa wanted to come until I told him what I was shopping for

[AM 1:20] Of course I'm not drunk! The boys talk about their underwear all the time so I'm gonna talk about mine 😤

[AM 1:20] One second, I'll show you guys where he is...I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago and found him like this, I'll have to wake him up to eat soon

[AM 1:20] Oh, this is Kyo. He's a stray I brought home not too long ago and he usually sleeps in my bed, even when Mingi's here

[AM 1:21] I didn't do much today, I just went to see a few industry friends, got some painting and sketching done...even with dance practice it's one of the most peaceful days I've had in a while

[AM 1:21] You're right, not working feels great ㅎㅎ Anyway, I need to get started on dinner now Tiny, I'll talk to you guys very soon!

[AM 1:21] I'll do my best during our promotion schedules so be ready ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

Translated from Korean by Google

[theultimateultimateweapon]

I'm taking a little pause from my break so show off a project I just finished, a shadow box for the Galactic Nova pocket watch!

I tried to add plenty of Kirby imagery that'd match the theme, it was a lot of fun! I'd love to make more shadowboxes in the future

[sluttywoozi]

(Boy)Friend Material | Part II | csc x f!reader

Part I

Seungcheol really thought that, having met you on a dating app, you'd be more into, well, dating him. He supposes he should have made sure you knew that's what he thought you were doing.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.2k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: elevator makeouts, minor safe sex discussion, lil tiny mention of birth control making reader depressed, restraining, oral f. rec., vaginal fingering, squirting, sex with a condom, crying during sex

Reader Notes: referred to with she/her pronouns, has two cats, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by cheol, wap

Seungcheol is still fucking floored that he’s been dating you without your knowledge for four months. 

All this time, he’s feared that you weren’t as into him as he was into you. What else was he supposed to think when he was constantly the one reaching out? He was the one making the dates, and inviting you to hangouts with his friends, and asking if he could come over and spend time with you. 

He tried not to mind that it was always him hugging you, him wanting to hold your hand, him touching you in all the little ways people in relationships do. He told himself that he just hadn’t discovered your love language yet, and that once he did, things would change. 

Honestly, if you were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have stuck it out so long. He was willing and able to because you’re you, and he likes you so damn much. 

You got his attention effortlessly with your opener, and the way you committed to the bit instead of backing down or changing the subject kept him interested. Then when he met you, you were somehow even funnier and prettier in person, and he was fucking enchanted. As soon as you parted ways, he was trying to figure out how he could see you again, dreaming up different scenarios and cycling through ideas until finally, he just asked. You said yes, so he kept asking. 

And now here he sits on your couch (where he can be found most Sundays), playing with your cats and listening to your musings as you pack your weekend bag. He doubts you think he can hear you or you probably wouldn’t be asking yourself, “Comfy or sexy?” out loud. He’s not sure which you pick but he’s kind of hoping for comfy because that’s always been sexy to him, the surety that you’re comfortable around him and cozy as can be. 

It’s been a while since his last relationship and he’s not a serial dater like some of his friends, so he was a bit out of practice when he met you. Still, he counted himself lucky that you grew to be so comfortable around him after only a few weeks, though now he knows it’s because you thought he was just your friend. 

He regrets that it took him thinking you wanted to break up to finally be honest about feeling like the relationship was one sided, because everything could have been resolved so long ago. 

All the times he’s thought about kissing you, he could have. Every morning that he’s surprised you with your favorite iced latte, every flower garden that he’s ever brought you to, every movie night that he’s looked over at you and watched the colors dance across your face in the darkness. He could have been kissing you for months, and you could have been kissing him back. 

He mourns the lost time, but part of him can’t be upset this miscommunication happened because it’s made him move with purpose. He’s constantly thinking of you, always trying to be what you need, and he honestly isn’t sure he would know you this well if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself worthy. 

It’s not like he’s going to stop trying to prove himself now, but it helps to be reassured that your withholding nature wasn’t because he likes you more than you like him, it was because you didn’t know he likes you at all. 

He feels so juvenile talking in terms of like, but he’s a little scared to introduce love to the equation. He could so easily define his feelings for you in that way, but it’s been four months of dating you without you dating him back, and he’s reluctant to take that leap without being sure you’ll take it with him. 

After he bore his soul to you, though, you said all of those things, told him that you don’t ever want to let him go, which sounds a whole lot like a love confession just minus the actual word…

Bluebell paws at his hand, asking for attention, and he grants it, trying to shake off worries that don’t hold weight anymore. Poppy sprawls against his thigh, purring so loud he can feel the vibrations.

This has been enough, he tells himself. Count yourself lucky that it’ll get even better now that she can knowingly participate in the relationship. 

“Ready,” you say in a sing-song voice as you struggle through the door to your bedroom, your shoulder laden down with a duffle and your hand holding your giant water bottle…cup…thing. You’re wearing your favorite lounge set, one he’s seen countless times, but the way the soft fabric clings to the curves of your body still makes his heart pound. 

He rises quickly to greet you, sending Poppy skittering off the couch. She darts over to you, yowling as if he committed a mortal sin, and you pout indulgently at her, asking, “Did the big man scare you? Poor baby.”

He doesn’t mind the teasing, especially when you call him big in the process. 

Before he gets too wrapped up in staring at you, he strides over, carefully taking hold of the strap on your shoulder and lifting until you slide your arm through so he can shoulder the duffle instead. 

“Wanna get a refill before we go? I know you like your water more than mine,” he offers, continuing to say (because you’re so fucking cute when you’re adamant about something), “Even though it tastes the same.”

“It does not taste the same! My water is better and more refreshing!” You claim instantly, walking across the living room to your kitchenette.

“Maybe that’s because I’ve changed your water filter twice since I met you even though it only needs to be changed twice a year.”

“Maybe so, but you’ll change it a third time for our six month anniversary and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” you playfully command him as you fill your monstrous water container. 

Six month anniversary. So you really do want to keep him around.

“Yeah, baby, I will,” he sighs, hoping you can’t tell that your little light-hearted threat has him feeling like he could drown, he’s so awash in adoration for you. 

“You’ve never called me baby before,” you gasp gleefully, spinning to face him with bright eyes and a wide smile. 

“I didn’t know if you’d like it,” he shrugs, a bit sheepish that it’s taken him this long to test it out. 

“I love it, baby is my name now,” you tell him, screwing the top back onto your water and sounding so serious, it’s almost comical.

You grasp your cup, holding your free hand out to him for what might be the first time. His heart skips a beat as he takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and following you to your door. 

“Bye Bell, bye Poppy, I love you,” you call out, looking over your shoulder to find your cats already asleep in their favorite spots on your mushroom and flower cat tree. He whispers his own goodbye and closes the door gently, pressing the button and turning the lock until it clicks. 

Immediately, you’re tugging him down the hall and towards the elevator, a chuckle escaping him at the sound of your bubbly laughter and quick footsteps. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you press the button and chant at the machine, bouncing in place beside him. 

“Excited?” He teases, amused by your lack of patience. 

Your head turns at the speed of light as you look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Aren’t you?” 

He would be sarcastic but it sounds like your heart is primed to break, and he can’t risk hurting you just for a joke. 

“More than I can say,” he answers honestly, expecting your smile but not the way you hustle him into the elevator and back him up against the wall, wrapping your arm around his neck and looking away only to press the ground floor button. 

“You gonna kiss me or not?” He murmurs, his eyes already on your lips as you get close enough for him to feel your chest against his. 

You answer without words, your perfect lips soft and unyielding, his hand dropping to your hip to tug you into his body as your fingernails scratch at the short hair on the nape of his neck. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and drags a sigh out of his mouth, one that you swallow with a needy gasp. 

He lowers your duffle to the floor, stepping forward until he’s got you against the wall and sliding his thigh between your legs to see what other sounds he can summon from you as his passion starts to overflow. His lips move against yours insistently, a fire lighting up in his veins when you wilt into him and let him take control, the transfer of power mouthwateringly sweet. 

And then you pull away. You pull away and he tries to chase you but you stop him with a hand on his chest, and he won’t push you, he would never push you. 

“Everything okay?” He pants, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and images of you that fill it. 

“Yeah, it’s just- we’re here,” you whisper, blinking at him and glancing over at the elevator doors. 

The open elevator doors. 

The lobby is empty, but if Seungcheol is being truthful, he thinks he wouldn’t really care if people did see. 

You’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. What’s so wrong with it?

Then again, part of him does want to keep you all to himself, kissing in elevators included. Which is why he’s quick to step away from you and take your hand again, grabbing the duffle before pulling you through the lobby and to his car. 

He’s not in such a rush that he won’t still open your door for you, waiting as you get in and gently shutting the door before tucking your bag in the backseat and jogging around to the driver’s side. He closes his door quietly even in his haste, not wanting to startle you or make you think he’s upset in any way.

His hand finds your thigh again after starting the car up and getting on the road, the silence that fills the space anticipatory instead of stifling like it was just an hour ago. He finds himself clenching his jaw and bouncing his left knee, counting down the traffic lights that sit between your place and his until finally, there’s only one left. 

It’s red when he rolls to a stop, and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that he swears if he looked down, he’d be able to see it beating. He glances over at you and finds you already staring at him, which has happened more than a few times in the months that he’s known you. This time is different, though, because you don’t pretend you weren’t looking, or start rambling nervously, or even look away. 

You just meet his gaze and let him see everything. Your nerves, your desire, your impatience, he sees it all, and feels it all himself. For perhaps the first time since he met you, he knows for certain that you and him are on the exact same wavelength. 

He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice the light turn green until the car behind him honks, and that disturbance is still barely enough to make him tear his gaze from yours. His eyes reluctantly return to the road as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and presses the gas pedal, closing the distance between the light and his parking garage as quickly as the speed limit allows. 

A long minute passes and he’s pulling into his designated parking spot, his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open before the car is even off. Sometimes, you’re distracted and he gets to open your door for you, but this isn’t one of those times. You’re out just as fast as him, meeting him at the trunk and taking his hand. 

Together, you speed walk to the door that opens into his hallway. You pass through first and then he does, your pace getting faster the closer you get to his place until finally, finally, he’s unlocking the door and beckoning you inside. He pauses to slip his sneakers off at the rack and you follow suit, the sight of your shoes next to his lighting up the part of his brain that craves domesticity with you. 

You don’t come over as often as he goes to your place so when you slow, he takes the lead, his hand still holding yours tightly and his heart still racing. 

He doesn’t quite mean to press you up against the wall but he takes a step forward as you take a step back and then it’s just too easy to lean in and taste you again, your lips supple and your sigh sweet. 

The kiss starts off slow, tame, but it’s not long before he’s inching closer and sucking at your bottom lip, his tongue gliding along yours when you open your mouth and let him in. You’re so warm and soft against him, your breasts flush with his chest and his dick starting to throb against your stomach, the combination of sensations making his head spin. 

It seems he can’t get enough of you now after what feels like millions of missed opportunities, millions of times he’s wanted his lips on yours and his hands on your body. He’s lost in you before he knows it, near mindless with desperation and devotion, his hunger for you so overwhelming that he fears no amount of you will ever be enough. 

It’s never been like this before, nobody else has ever made him feel as if he would suffocate without their air or perish without their touch, but here he is, kissing you like you’re breathing pure oxygen and gripping your hips like he’ll fade into nothingness if he lets go. 

He knew you were special to him but he didn’t know he would need you like this, and the realization is enough to make him pull back, saying through sharp breaths, “Maybe we should slow down, I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush.”

You gaze at him, almost through him, and say, with great care, “Seungcheol, I’ve wanted your dick inside me since we met. If you want to slow down, we can, but if I had it my way, we’d be moving even faster.”

And fuck if that isn’t enough to spur him into action, to make his cock twitch in his jeans and his hands fly to your waist, a rough, “Jump,” escaping his swollen lips. 

You gasp but wrap your legs around him when he starts to lift you, his grip shifting to your thighs as you vine your arms around his neck, seemingly holding on for dear life. He’d die before dropping you so you have nothing to worry about, but he’s too focused on getting you to his bed to inform you of that fact. He also maybe likes feeling you cling to him like this too much to give you any reason to stop. 

“We need a condom, right?” He checks as he walks, fairly certain the answer will be yes. 

Jeonghan bought him a box when he first started seeing you, the exact size he needs and brand he likes, and handed them over with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the time, but he’s thankful for him now because he never would have bought them himself, too fearful of jinxing the situation. 

“Yeah, I stopped my birth control, it was making me hella depressed. Is that- I mean, are you okay with using one?” You ask, though you absolutely don’t need to. 

“Baby, all I care about is making you feel safe. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll pull out, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You’re the best boyfriend,” you sigh, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he crosses through the doorway to his bedroom.

He left it relatively clean, thankfully, and there’s nothing embarrassing out, unless he counts the picture of him and you that he got framed last month to keep on his nightstand. You see it when he carefully deposits you onto your back on the mattress, your face twisting up like you might cry. 

He’s alarmed until you say, “I have that photo framed on my nightstand.”

The fact that you have one is enough to make him smile but the fact that you picked the same picture is enough to make him fucking beam, his lips stretched too wide to kiss you even though he really wants to. 

He tries anyway, his smile fading as he braces a hand next to your head and presses his mouth to yours, climbing up on the bed when you grip his shirt and start to pull him. He’s imagined this so many times, pictured you under him and on top of him and in front of him (face down, ass up as he slides inside of you). 

He’s made himself cum to the thought of you in this bed, and now that he has you here, he almost doesn’t know where to start. You seem to have your own ideas and desires though, and he’d give anything to find out what they are. 

So, like Seungcheol always has, he just asks. 

“You said you’ve wanted me since we met… What have you thought about?” His voice is ragged when he speaks, deep, but he thinks you like it, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before your breath leaves you in a sigh. 

“Lots of things,” you whisper, your hands skimming down his chest until they find the hem of his shirt and start to push it up. He sits back on his knees between your legs and hauls it off, fighting a smirk at the way your eyes grow hazy.

You hesitate to put your hands on him, so he takes one of them in his own and presses your palm to his stomach, his muscles jumping at your warm, gentle touch. 

“Like what?” 

“Like… how big you probably are. If you’d be soft and sweet or if you’d be a little rough, a little mean.” 

Following your words, he drags your hand down and lets you feel him, his dick hard and pressing into the zipper of his jeans. You can’t cover all of it, but you close your fingers around the shaft as best you can and rub firmly, one, two, three times. 

“Fuck,” he sighs as you squeeze, the pressure making his eyelids flutter as pleasure sparks within him. “Which do you want more? Soft and sweet or rough and mean? I can be whatever you want.”

“You’re already all I want you to be, Cheol, so just be you.”

God, you’re going to be the end of him. Death by swollen heart.

“A bit of both it is then,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, shifting his grip to your wrist before pushing your hand up to rest beside your head. He does the same with your other hand, leaving you unable to move your upper body. 

He’s about to break away to check in, but you melt into the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, tugging his hips into yours with a soft moan. 

The sound sends a lick of heat down his spine, his dick pulsing in time with his heart and so hard, it almost hurts. He breathes a shuddering sigh into your mouth and grinds into you, wishing his jeans could magically disappear so he wouldn’t have to stop kissing you to take them off. 

The denim is getting to be too restrictive though, especially when he’s dying to feel you with no barriers at all. So he tries to pull back, but you whimper into his mouth and hug him closer with your legs, and the only way he can respond to that is by kissing you harder and letting his body press into yours. 

He’s gone for you for a few more minutes, his jeans all but forgotten as you roll your hips against his and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. The slight sting makes him gasp and dig his cock into you in retaliation, his hands tightening around your wrists when you just push back and bite his lip again. 

It feels almost impossible to pull away from you now but he can’t take it anymore, the clothes need to come off, yours in particular. He’s imagined this too often and wanted you for too long to make this a quick, messy, fully-clothed fuck. You deserve better, you deserve everything, and he’s going to do his absolute best to give it to you. 

So he breaks the connection, ignoring the whine that escapes you to pant out, “I’ll kiss you again when we’re naked, promise.”

“Yes, oh my god, take your pants off,” you reply in a rush, your eyes lighting up as you attempt to free your wrists from his hold. He releases you immediately, but he climbs off the bed before you can wrestle his jeans down, his hands finding yours and pulling until you stand with him. With a laugh, he says, “I said ‘when we’re naked,’ baby. That means you, too.”

“Strip me then,” you raise your arms, a challenge in your gaze, and he can do nothing but accept it, tugging your shirt up and off and freezing in place when he sees what you have on under it. 

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, staring at the cherry red lace that encases your breasts. There are delicate little bows on the straps and the lace is so fine that he can see right through it, could probably rip it without even trying. 

“Did you wear this for me?” He asks absentmindedly, his eyes caught on your tits as they rise and fall with your breathing. 

“Yeah, I bought it when we started talking. I thought you’d like it,” you answer softly, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your lounge pants and pushing them down just enough for him to get a peek of the very same red. “It’s a matching set.”

His knees weak at the thought, he sits heavily on the mattress, setting his hands on your hips and guiding you to stand between his legs. 

“Can I see?” 

“That’s kind of the point,” you whisper like it’s a secret, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as he starts to pull your pants down. They slip off easily and pool on the floor, leaving you nearly bare before him and more bewitching than he could have ever imagined. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he sighs out, feeling almost dazed as he takes the sight of you in, his thumbs tracing over the bows that sit on the front of your hips. He sinks his fingertips into you, squeezing to feel the give of your flesh and using all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing the lacy panties right off. 

He could (and would) buy you a new set, but you bought this with him in mind, and had to wait so long to wear it for him. It’s too special for him to damage it just because he’s desperate to see you bare. 

You must be able to read his mind, taking your hands off his shoulders to reach behind your back and undo the clasps, the bra loosening on your body before you shrug it down your arms and toss it on the bed. 

Seungcheol finds himself spellbound once again, captivated by all the skin before him, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze making his breath catch in his chest. “Can I touch you?” 

“I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you answer immediately, gasping in relief when he smooths his hands up to cover your breasts. He cups them, testing the weight, and squeezes gently, already obsessed with the feeling of your soft, supple skin under his palms. His thumbs drag over your nipples, circling them until you let out a quiet little whimper, one that he would give his life to hear again. 

“Lay down for me, baby,” He requests, needing you spread out before him so he can fully drink you in. 

Forgetting a change in position means he has to stop touching you, he pouts when you step out of his reach, though he’s distracted almost instantly by the cheeky cut of your panties. 

He stands on knees that are still slightly weak, getting out of your way and watching as you climb up on the bed. He tries not to ogle you but your ass looks so fucking biteable from here, and he can’t even let himself focus on the space between your legs because he just might combust if he gets a good look.

You settle on your back in the center of the mattress and he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of you in his bed. He’s wanted you in it for months, and not just for sex, but for cuddling and reading together and falling asleep in each other’s arms, too. So much time has been wasted, but he won’t let it bother him, not when this literally feels like a dream come true. 

He starts moving toward you, trying to formulate a game plan for how he can kiss your stomach and suck one of your nipples at the same time, but you hold a hand out and say, “Stop.”

Every muscle in his body locks up, his heart pounding in anxiety that he’s done something wrong, that you’ve changed your mind about him, that you- 

“Don’t look so worried, Cheollie, I just want you to take your jeans off,” you soothe, making him sigh out his stress and squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Listen to me, Seungcheol. I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. I like you in a way that is concerning to my friends. I like you more than I have ever liked anyone else. My crush on you is deeper than the Mariana Trench,” you say emphatically. “I will tell you this until you believe it.”

Fuck, he feels like he might cry. 

Hearing these words from you is affirming beyond belief, soothing to his very soul, and the steadiness and truth in your voice as you said them is what gives him the courage to admit it. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers quietly, his eyes still closed. He hears rustling, envisions you making your way to the edge of the bed, and he’s not surprised when he feels your hands take his. 

“I know I’m in love with you,” you whisper back, your fingers intertwined with his and your voice just as sure as before. 

He blinks his eyes open, finds you staring up at him with a teary, affection-soaked gaze, and can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss stays chaste and soft even though your tits are out and he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, this moment so precious to him, his desire takes the back burner. 

Until you pull back and tell him, “Now take your pants off, please. I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Fuck the back burner, you just lit the stove on fire. He unbuttons his jeans, the fly barely halfway down before he’s shoving them off and stepping out of them, kicking them away like their presence offends him. You didn’t ask him to, but he sheds his boxer briefs as well, feeling his cock pop up and hit his stomach before it hangs heavily between his legs. 

Your eyes grow wide and you open your mouth to say something, but he can’t stop hearing, ‘I’m so fucking wet for you,’ the words seared into his brain forevermore. 

“Let me eat you out?” He practically begs, willing to ask again on his knees if you want him to. 

“I love that you ask, but you don’t need to anymore. Just do what feels right and I’ll stop you if I don’t like it,” you promise, laying back and lifting your ass for him as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to tug them down. 

And shit, they’re soaked, fucking sodden with your arousal, the lace sticking to your pussy as he peels them away. He can feel his mouth water when the scent of you fills his nose, leaving him breathless and near brainless with need for you.

Sinking to his knees, he gently pushes your thighs apart to reveal the prettiest fucking pussy he’s ever seen. Maybe he just thinks that because it’s yours, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re glistening and open and all for him. 

He’s always imagined himself having some amount of finesse when he finally got his tongue between your legs, always pictured going slow and taking you apart piece by piece, or at least pacing himself even a little bit. Now that he’s here, with his hands on your thighs and his face just inches from you, he knows that won’t be the case at all. 

You smell too fucking good for him to hesitate any longer, his tongue darting out and dragging from your opening to your clit. He can’t hold in the groan that leaves him at the first taste of you, his cock twitching as your arousal coats his taste buds, heady and rich and perfect. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in your cunt, pushing your thighs up to your stomach so he has more room to work. 

He feels your hands against his, feels them hooking beneath your knees to hold your thighs up for him, and he moans gratefully in response, setting his thumbs on either side of your pussy and pulling your lips apart so he can taste you more directly. 

He dips his tongue into your entrance and you clench around it, the sensation making him whimper into your pussy and delve even deeper inside. Just this might not be enough to get you there but you taste fucking heavenly and feel even better, and he’s wanted his mouth on you like this for months. 

So he allows himself to be selfish for a few minutes, fucking you with his tongue just to feel the way you quiver and squeeze around the muscle. Your arousal starts to leak down his chin and he almost regrets the waste of it, pulling his tongue from your pussy to latch his lips to your opening and suck. 

“Seungcheol, please, I need-,” you implore him, your words halting when he fills you with two of his fingers, the digits sinking inside with a squelch. You whine above him and his gaze travels up your body to find your back arched and your kiss-swollen lips parted, every sound that escapes them like music to his ears. 

Fuck, you’re a goddamn wet dream.

His fingers curl inside of you, exploring until he finds that patch of nerves along your front wall. As soon as he grazes it, you gasp brokenly and buck into his touch, making him bite his lip and return his eyes to your pussy and the way it swallows his fingers. His mouth finds your clit and suctions around it, the little bud firm under his tongue as he flicks it back and forth, following your sounds to find what you like best. 

“Cheol, I-I’m getting close,” you moan out in a warning tone, but it only makes him more determined, his fingertips grinding into you and his lips puckering around your clit. You seem to love it when he sucks in pulses and crooks his fingers into your sweet spot at the same time so he sets a quick tempo, hoping to help you find the edge and then tip you over it. 

It happens sooner than he expects, the molten velvet of your cunt tightening around his fingers rhythmically as your cries reach a fever pitch. He doesn’t stop, wonders if he even could when you’re making the noises you are and begging him, “Please, Cheollie, please.”

He would soothe you but his mouth is still hard at work on your clit, his tongue rolling over the bud again and again as his fingers prod that spot inside of you. Soon enough, you can’t speak, just sobbing and sinking a hand into his hair to hold him in place, your thigh falling to rest on his shoulder. 

He doesn’t mind the weight, loves your soft skin against his ear and the feeling of you pressing his face into your pussy, as if he’d even consider pulling away now. You want to cum again, he can tell, and he’s not going to stop until you do. 

He fucks his fingers in and out of you faster, pursing his lips around your clit and sucking deeply, grumbling and groaning into you in encouragement, his brows furrowed and his vision hazy. 

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, growing impossibly wetter and locking down like a vise until all he can do is curl his fingertips into your sweet spot and dig his tongue into your clit. A sharp whine pierces the air and your thigh trembles on his shoulder as you break, arousal gushing out of you in spurts to coat his neck and drip down over his collarbones. 

It’s the only flood he’s ever been thankful for, and before you’ve even started to recover, he’s already voicing his gratitude.

“Fucking beautiful, baby. That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god,” he mumbles, pressing kisses along the thigh that rests on his shoulder, withdrawing his fingers to clean them off with his mouth. 

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whisper dreamily, struggling to lift your head. 

He lowers your thigh and rises to his feet, shaking out his stiff legs before leaning down over you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss grows deep in an instant, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you wrap your legs around him and pull his body into yours. His aching dick gets trapped in between until you reach down and take hold of it, guiding it to rest against your hot, wet cunt. 

That first bit of contact is enough to pull a low groan from him, the slippery heat of your pussy on the top side of his cock making him throb and leak against you. He’s so fucking desperate for you but there’s only one thing that he wants more than to sink inside of you bare right now, and that’s to respect your wishes (and not get you pregnant… for the next year or two, at least). 

Maybe someday he can fuck you without a condom but that day won’t be today, so with great difficulty, he drags his lips away from yours and reaches an arm out to pull open his bedside drawer. He feels around for a second, exclaiming victoriously when his fingers catch on the box before he takes hold of it and sets it on the bed. 

Looking back at you for approval, he finds you beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just so you could bask in their light, and fuck, he swears he’d rearrange them all in the shape of you, given the chance. 

He fumbles one-handed with the box for a minute, his other hand braced next to your head to keep himself from crushing you, before you take over and tear it open, ripping a packet off the strip and tossing the rest onto his nightstand. 

“We’ll need those for later,” you inform him matter-of-factly as you unwrap the condom and reach down to wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s been leaking enough precum that your hand glides when you pump it up and down, and it takes an astounding amount of self control not to fuck into your grasp as if he’s never been touched before. 

You place the condom at his tip and start to roll it on and even that is heavenly, your touch electric and your eyes bright like the summer sun when your gaze meets his. He feels you line him up, his cock jumping at just the thought of being inside your perfect cunt, barrier or no barrier. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips into yours, and he takes that for the hint it is. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he starts to sink into you, the head of his cock pushing through the tightness of your entrance to disappear inside of you inch by inch. He goes slowly, both to give you time to adjust and to give himself the opportunity to get it together, the blazing heat and intoxicating grip of your pussy wiping out every coherent thought in his brain. There’s a stretch but it’s eased by your arousal, and the way he can feel you relaxing and opening up to accept him is nothing short of exquisite. 

“How does it feel?” He gasps out raggedly, watching your face as he finally bottoms out. Your eyebrows are scrunched up and your pretty lips are parted, soft breaths escaping as you hitch your thighs up higher on his waist and let your eyes blink open. 

They’re full of tears, making him blanch and immediately start to pull his hips back, sure that he’s hurting you and you’ve been unable to even speak through the pain to tell him. 

“No, stay! Stay, Cheollie, it’s fucking perfect,” you plead in a broken voice, hugging him closer with your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Then why are you crying?” He asks, confused and still slightly worried though the fluttering of your walls around him is enough to make him want to cry too. 

“I’ve just wanted you for so long, and you make me feel even better than I ever dreamed you would,” you tell him through a wobbly smile. “I think you’re my missing piece.” 

“Baby,” he sighs lovingly as he melts against you and drops down to his elbows to press his lips to yours, the movement burying him just a bit deeper inside and making both you and him moan in pleasure. 

He doesn’t think he even knows words that could explain how flawless, how right you feel around him, but he can at least try, for you. 

“Being inside of you is like… coming home. Like I’ve been wandering in the cold my whole life and I finally found somewhere soft and warm and safe to rest. I kind of want to never leave,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes as he speaks. 

“You may not be able to stay forever but I’ll always want you to come home again,” you promise him gently. “You will leave enough to move, though, right? Because-”

Laughing, he squeezes his eyes shut and steels himself before pulling his hips back a few inches, the drag of your clenching walls on his cock enough to steal his breath even with the latex in between. He tries to go slowly as he presses back into you, but the igneous embrace of your cunt draws him in with one effortless, gliding thrust. 

Somehow, burying himself inside of you the second time feels even better than the first, and it’s easier to withdraw from your warmth again when he realizes that the pleasure will only compound as he moves more and more. 

Fighting to keep his eyes open and on your face while he establishes a rhythm, he builds speed until the catch in your breath and the fluttering of your eyelashes tells him he’s found the best pace for you. He can’t make it out more than a couple inches before your legs around his waist stop him, but he loves that you want him inside as much as he wants to be inside, so he just puts more power behind his hips as he slides back in to make sure you feel it. 

Time starts to pass and he falls into something like a trance, the feeling of your pussy clinging to him as he leaves and cradling him as he returns hypnotic. It’s almost as if he’s lost the ability for complex thought and replaced it with pure sensation, just acting on instinct now that his brain has been rendered useless. 

It doesn’t help that your gaze is deep, mesmerizing, fucking magnetic. He can’t look away, feels like he can’t even blink as he fucks into you, his face close enough to yours that he’s breathing your air. Still, he wants to be even closer, wants to burrow inside of you, climb into your ribcage, and make a home right next to your heart. 

The desire is so intense, it’s nearly frightening, but nothing could scare Seungcheol away from you now. He’s yours, mind, body, and soul, belonging to you in a way he’s never allowed himself to belong to anyone else before. 

He hates to admit it, but he’s already starting to get close. Lasting has never been an issue for him, even in the past few months when all he could think about was you, but thinking about you and being inside of you are two very different things. Your pussy is goddamn magical, everything about fucking you is goddamn magical, and he fears his only hope is in changing positions. 

“Baby, can I- shit, can I fuck you from behind?” He stalls his movements long enough to ask, dreading the moment he’ll have to pull out completely so you can turn over. 

“Um, yes but…I honestly don’t know if I can hold myself up,” you reluctantly admit, like you think it’s something to be embarrassed about. 

“That’s what pillows and my hands are for,” he assures you, smiling at the way you relax and unwrap your legs from his waist, allowing him to begin the process of extricating himself from you. 

Slowly, he begins to draw his hips back, ignoring the alarm bells that ring in his head as he feels his cock leave your heat inch by inch. It’s only for a minute or two, he tells himself, pushing off of you and sitting up so you can get onto your stomach. 

He watches your body move as you roll over, his eyes stuck on the curve of your plush ass before you get your knees under you and they shift to the gleam of your wet, fucked open cunt. Keeping his gaze on you, he reaches to the head of the bed and grabs the two pillows that rest there, sliding them under your hips one after another. You sink into position, your back arched and your cheek pressed against his sheet, completely relaxed even with your body on full display for him. 

The groan escapes without his permission, the memory of your taste on his tongue making his mouth water. Before he knows it, he’s on his stomach too and burying his face in your pussy, reaching up to press down on the small of your back so you arch even deeper into him. 

“Cheol!” You gasp, pushing back onto his tongue when he shoves it inside of you, making him whimper into your cunt as he devours you. 

“Never gonna get enough of this pussy, fuck,” he mutters as he shifts his focus to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking in pulses. He doesn’t know how long he eats you out, just that he goes until you’re dripping down his face again and squirming against him, desperate to cum. 

“Seungcheol, please, I ne-need your cock, need you to fill me up,” you cry out, reaching back and gripping one of his hands where it holds you down. 

His dick jumps and leaks into the condom at your words, the plea in your voice sparking a shiver he feels all the way from his scalp to his toes. Pulling his tongue from you, he rises back up on his knees and shuffles forward, taking hold of his cock and gliding it up and down the seam of you, nudging at your clit. 

“Cheol,” you begin, likely about to threaten him. He would love to hear it but your entrance catches on the head of his dick and he can’t resist the alluring, feverish depths of your cunt, sliding inside in one long, ruthless thrust. 

You keen when he reaches the end of you but you also tilt your hips to accept the last inch, the snug clutch of your pussy near mythical in the bliss it brings him. With one hand gripping your hip to hold you up and the other firm on the small of your back to keep you in place, he starts thrusting in and out of you. 

The tempo he takes is brutal, fierce, the force of his hips impacting your ass making it ripple and bounce as he fucks into you. His hearing is fuzzy with how fucking good it feels but he can still make out the smack of his skin against yours and the slick sound of his cock gliding through your wetness. There’s a squelch every time he bottoms out, and accompanied by your whines and whimpers, all of the noises combine to create a masterpiece of a melody. 

Seungcheol truly thought the pause would help but he’s right back where he started, throbbing and leaking for you and so fucking close to the edge, he’s concerned he’ll make it there before you do. Sure, you already came twice, but you deserve a third, a fourth if he can hold himself back long enough - one orgasm for every month he spent not making you cum. 

The hand on your back slips around under your hips, working itself down between your legs to find your clit. It’s swollen beneath his fingers, slippery from the arousal his dick keeps pushing out, which only makes it easier to swirl circles into the bud, the way your pussy instantly clenches around him making him moan roughly. 

The added resistance just enhances each stroke, your walls trying to suck his cock back in when he pulls out and hugging him tighter and tighter every time he pushes inside again. He fears he won’t be able to make you cum without it making him cum too, but there’s something so poetic about finding that euphoria together that he can’t be bothered about breaking this soon. 

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, fairly sure what your answer will be. 

“Yeah, Cheollie, wan-wanna cum with you inside me so bad,” you gasp, craning your neck to look back at him. “Thought about it every time I-” 

You can’t finish your sentence when his fingers start to move faster, but he thinks he knows where you were going with it. 

“Every time you fucked yourself, you wished it was me instead, huh?” He teases a little meanly, knowing he has no room to talk.

Your face crumples as you nod, tears filling your eyes, and he leans down over you, his hand leaving your hip to brace himself so he doesn’t suffocate you. He presses his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, murmuring, “I did the same fucking thing, baby, and I always wanted it to be you.”

“Promise?” You whisper, a vulnerable tinge to your voice. He’s reminded that, until tonight, you had no idea how he felt about you. This is all still new, and he needs to be kind, delicate, reassuring as you acclimate to the reality of him being in love with you. 

Stopping all movement so you can fully focus on his words, he whispers back, “Cross my heart and hope to die. Ever since we met, I’ve thought about you, wanted you, dreamed about you. I fell for you. You’re it for me.” 

“You're it for me too, Seungcheol,” you tell him gently, before asking, “Can I turn back over? I want you to hold me.”

He answers by smacking one last kiss to your cheek and climbing off of you, helping to roll you onto your back and pulling one of the pillows out from under your hips, leaving you slightly elevated but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Sighing contentedly as he stretches himself out along your body, he slides his forearm under your shoulders to pull you into his chest and holds himself up with that elbow, slipping the other hand between your bodies to guide his dick inside of you. 

“Better?” He confirms, grinning when you nod shyly and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs rising to encircle his waist as he sinks back into you. He hopes you feel as held by him as he feels by you, the sheer comfort and safety of your body enough to make his eyes water this time. 

He moves slowly, carefully, rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, never leaving you more than halfway before burying himself inside again. The brief pause did wonders for his self control, his release feeling far enough away that he thinks he really might be able to get you there once before he lets you pull him over the edge too. 

Until you start kissing him, that is. 

Once your lips meet his and your tongue slips into his mouth, every part of him is wrapped up in loving you. There’s not a single thing on his mind except for you, every thought dedicated to kissing you, fucking you, pleasing you, and it feels so goddamn right. Like this is what he was made for. 

And fuck if that doesn’t have him closer than ever before, his cock pulsing and leaking into the condom, the latex probably the only thing keeping him from cumming right now. If he could feel you bare, it would be over for him, and as much as he wants to experience you without the barrier, he’s thankful for it. 

His fingers settle back onto your clit and start to rub circles around it, his mouth catching the gasp you let out when his hips scoop on the next thrust in and drag the head of his cock against your g-spot. 

He can’t hit it with every stroke, not when he wants to get as deep as possible, but combined with the work of his fingers, he can feel you getting closer each and every time he does graze the erogenous patch. 

You stop kissing him to tilt your head back and let out a long, high-pitched whine, and he knows it’s almost time. He doesn’t change a thing, not when your nails dig into his shoulders, not when your hips buck into his, not even when your pussy starts to swallow around his cock. He just keeps his steady pace, continues to roll your clit beneath his fingers, and hopes, prays, wishes that pleasure will find you before it washes over him. 

“Please, please, please baby, please fucking cum for me,” he begs, every muscle in his body tensing as he fights to hold off his own orgasm. It’s not in vain, thank fucking goodness, because you whimper brokenly as your pussy starts to undulate around him, growing tighter and tighter until he can’t move, can barely even breathe. 

You’re cumming, fuck, you’re cumming, and so is he, the pulsating of your walls around him making him surge deep inside and stay there as he fills the condom with his cum, his cock jerking and jumping within you. It’s better than it ever has been, every thought in his head wiped out by pure fucking ecstasy and every muscle in his body tensing then relaxing as he succumbs to the urge to just melt into you and let two become one. 

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass before he can pull himself away from you, but eventually you release your hold on him, your arms falling to rest beside your head and your legs gingerly returning to the mattress. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to not be inside of you, but the condom is starting to feel uncomfortable now that he’s softening, especially as full of cum as it is, so he holds the base of it as he withdraws himself from you. 

You pout the whole time and he does too, but you say nothing as he gets off the bed to slip the condom off, tying the end in a knot before dropping it in the bin next to his desk. 

Seungcheol doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to turn back around, to face you again. When he does, though, you just smile up at him sleepily and open your arms, waiting for him to find his place. 

He grins softly and slides back into bed, laying on his back and gathering you up against his chest, humming contentedly when you snuggle into him, your leg tossed over his thigh and your arm wrapped around his waist. 

“We should wash up, but I don’t want to move…” he murmurs, lifting his head just enough to press a kiss to your crown before letting it drop back down, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“I have bad news,” you say quietly. His heart starts to race and his eyes fly open, his arms tightening around you like that’ll protect him from what you’re about to say. 

“What is it?” He asks, hesitation clear in his voice. 

“We forgot my stuff in your car,” you whisper nervously, as if that’s something he would actually get upset with you over. 

He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him, tinged in both love and relief, though he does muffle it in your hair. 

“That’s not so bad, baby. I’ll go get your water and bag, and you start the shower, okay?” he proposes, already planning to jog so he can make it back in time to rinse off with you. 

“Okay,” you sigh happily, sitting up and rolling out of bed before prancing over to the ensuite, fully fucking naked. 

Yeah, no way in hell is he staying on that goddamn couch tonight. 

AN: what a fucking journey this was!! I’m so happy i kept yall updated through it because it was so nice to have you cheering me on and to know you were excited for it to come out 🥺 did i expect it to be three times as long as part one? no! are their feelings a bit dramatic? yes! is this fanfiction? yes, so i can make it as dramatic as i want! people get married after one month, they’re allowed to be in love after four! ps you don’t know how hard it was to keep more breeding kink from slipping into this like it’s borderline impossible for me to write seungcheol without breeding kink but i did my best and i did it for you

all i have left to say is this: you deserve someone who will love you like seungcheol loves reader! you deserve someone who will listen to you and respect you and do everything in their power to make you feel good! that’s what i, user sluttywoozi, wants for you! remember that the next time you think about settling for less than what you deserve!

Taglist: @so-da-1 @plskillme22 @nightshadeblooming @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @gyuguys @jennwonwoo @lelestarmy @disneyprincessshuri @alexbarberry @scoupsjin @sourkimchi @bangrauhl13 @meowmeowminnie @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @lukeys-giggle @polyglot-ton267 @bubbletroubble @bouclesdefeu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ujimatchaaa

[sutorus]

BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew. 

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?” 

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 

toji finally addresses you. 

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks. 

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

[fastandcarlos]

Never An Interruption : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: you’re all ready to celebrate max’s win with him, only when you find someone already there to celebrate, you begin to question the role you truly play in max’s life

Your smile was wide as you watched Max climb up to the top of the podium again, thousands of fans cheering all around you. It still felt surreal as you watched him climb to the top, proudly taking the trophy that was handed to him. 

His eyes scanned the crowd in front of him, giggling to himself once Max’s eyes met yours, noticing the excitable look that was on your face. You were stood just beside Christian, right at the front, exactly where Max always asked for you to be whenever you were there supporting him at a race so that you got to see everything. 

Once the celebrations were over, Max was rushed off to do interviews and gush about his win whilst you returned to the paddock, knowing you’d be able to catch up with Max later. 

It was as chaotic as ever as you watched the engineers begin to sort everything out, packing up ready to head to the next race. You usually didn’t mind waiting around, but today particularly you were on the edge of your seat with excitement about being able to see Max again. 

The race had been a lot closer than usual, leaving you on tenterhooks. Max had fought much more closely with Charles, swapping the lead between the pair until Max just edged him on the last straight. You were proud at the best of times, but today especially, you were thrilled that he managed to get the win. 

After checking your watch to see how late it was again, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You excused yourself from the paddock, heading down to the team’s motorhome, walking straight through to where Max’s driver’s room was, darting between the crowd of hospitality guests. 

It had almost become a bit of a second home for you too, having spent years travelling around the world to support your best friend. You knew the paddock like the back of your hand, and most of the people that were walking around in blue too. 

And despite the fact he had hundreds of people working around the paddock for him, the only person that really meant the most to Max was you. His best friend. 

As you approached the door, you weren’t surprised to hear some noise from inside. You listened for a moment before knocking gently, walking in before Max answered, exactly like he’d told you to do years ago when you first started visiting him.  

You barely managed to step foot into the room before it felt like you were being ushered back out. A nervous looking Max looked at you, hair messy as he ran his hand through it. 

“You alright?” Max smiled, unable to stand still. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, trying your best to figure out what was going on as Max’s nervous eyes stuck on you. 

“I was just about to come and find you.” 

“It’s lucky I came and found you then,” you laughed, turning to take a seat on his bed, only to stop yourself just as fast. A figure stared back at you, one that you didn’t recognise but left you feeling incredibly embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t realise that you...yeah...I’ll just...go,” you stuttered, rushing back out of the room. 

Your body jolted as you were met by the crowd of guests yet again, rushing out before any of them caught sight of you. Your feet couldn’t move quick enough, heading back out into the fresh air and in any direction that took you as far away from Red Bull as possible.  

Once you were sat down, your head fell into your hands, letting go of several shaky breaths. Whilst you and Max were the best of friends, your heart wasn’t prepared to see someone else there with him. You knew you shouldn’t be mad, upset, hurt, he was free to do whatever, but for some reason, it still stung. 

It didn’t take long before a figure appeared beside you, almost as soon as you left the room, Max ran out to follow, sprinting all around the paddock in search of you. 

You remained frozen as Max dropped down to sit beside you, letting go of a deep sigh at how hostile you were towards him.  

“Please don’t shut me out,” Max frowned, noticing how tense your body was. 

“Haven’t you got somewhere else to be?” You coldly asked. 

“Not when I know your upset, of course I haven’t,” Max reasoned, nudging gently against your side, silently asking for you to look at him again. 

“If I knew you had company then I never would have burst in like that,” you tried your best to explain, feeling your cheeks begin to darken again, “I’ll stop doing that now.” 

“I love having you burst in,” Max tried his best to assure you, “you’re my best friend and never an interruption.” 

“I know,” you murmured, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice as Max reminded you. 

“What is it?” Max quizzed, knowing you too well, knowing exactly when you were hiding something from him. 

“Nothing...you just go back and be with your girlfriend, you should be celebrating,” you tried to tell him. 

“No way,” he stated, shrugging as your eyes pleaded with him. 

Max’s bluntness took you by surprise, your body almost jumped at how firm he was with his response to you. 

He sensed that too, muttering a quick apology as he realised how taken aback you suddenly were by him. 

“You can’t leave your girlfriend all by herself,” you repeated, reminding Max as to where his priorities should be. Not with you anymore. But with her. 

A small smile crept onto his face, “is that what you think that was?” 

Your shoulders shrugged, truthfully you couldn’t make sense of anything right now. You were sure that if Max had a girlfriend, then he would’ve told you, but maybe he didn’t trust in you quite as much as you thought he did. 

“She works for Red Bull, just came in to help me with something,” Max tried his best to explain with you, “there’s no one more important to me than you are, you know that’s never going to change.” 

Your eyes met Max’s, quickly noticing how sincere he was. His smile widened as he noticed the reality of what he was saying sinking in, reminding you just where his priorities were. 

“I thought you were with her,” you admitted. 

Max nodded back at you, “there’s only one person that I want to be with, and that’s the person I’m with right now.” 

Your heart raced as you listened, watching as Max’s smile grew wider, proud of himself for finally telling you the truth. 

“You mean that?” You nervously asked him. 

Max reached across and rested his hand over the top of yours, “I can’t believe you ever thought I would want to be someone more than I do you. You’re perfect.” 

You turned your hand so that it was palm to palm with Max, allowing your fingers to intertwine in with his. Max’s free arm held around your waist, keeping you as close into his side as he could have you. 

A nervous smile appeared on your face, resting your head on Max’s shoulder so that he could no longer see you. 

“Please don’t tell me these things just because you want to cheer me up,” you asked of him, wondering if what was happening really was true. 

“I mean every single word,” Max assured, “it only ever really has been you.” 

Max moved his hand so that it was under your chin, tilting your head back so your eyes met again. “Where do we go from here?” You whispered, feeling yourself losing control at an alarming rate. 

“I’m not sure,” Max whispered, “but I know that wherever we go from here, it’s going to make me an incredibly happy man.” 

Before you had the chance to respond, Max leant down, pressing the gentlest of kisses against your lips, finally getting to live out the dream that had troubled him for so many years. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[onlygarden]

[can i watch?] - park sunghoon

genre: smut, some fluff

description: when your boyfriend walks into the bathroom just before you're about to shave your intimate parts, he decides he needs to watch you.

sunghoon x female reader, unprotected sex, shower sex, dom sunghoon, sunghoon is down bad for reader and can barely control himself lmao (he's so cutie), sunghoon is a little rough 18+

a/n: i got this idea suddenly while i was shaving in the shower hehe i neeeeeded to bring it to life i hope u guys get me

you step into the humidity of the shower, the steam enveloping you and filling your pores. your body immediately warms. you allow yourself to fully relax as the hot water glides soothingly along your body. after washing up, your mind is plagued with the reminder of needing to shave, already feeling annoyed by the tedious task. didn’t i just shave not too long ago? why does body hair have to grow so fast? you think pointlessly to yourself. 

the sound of the bathroom door opening reaches your ears, and you peek around the shower curtain to see sunghoon brushing his teeth. he notices you, and immediately bites back a smile. 

“you’re gonna get water all over the rug, idiot,” he teases, the sound of his voice being muffled by his toothbrush making you giggle. 

you playfully scowl. “the curtain’s hardly open, idiot,” you respond, “and you’re gonna get toothpaste all over the floor if you keep trying to talk with a toothbrush in your mouth,” you jest. sunghoon laughs immediately, your playful smirk stretching into a wide smile following his infectious laughter. 

you close the curtain, and you can hear the subtle sounds of your boyfriend rinsing his mouth. a sudden, dramatic sigh travels through the bathroom. 

“why does it take you an eternity to shower?” he pokes jokingly. “are you not done already?” the shower curtain is promptly yanked open to allow your boyfriend enough space to point to his wrist playfully, signaling for you to hurry up. 

you can’t conceal your surprise at his sudden action, but you break into a fit of laughter at his silliness, pushing his body away and shutting the curtain. “you’re scum,” you tell him, as you continue to laugh. “don’t you have any manners?” when he begins speaking you can tell by the volume of his voice that he’s still close to the curtain. “after fucking you senseless so many times i figured you were cool with me seeing you naked,” he digs, anticipating your reaction with a smile on his face.

you peek your head outside of the shower once again, greeting sunghoon with repeated smacks to his chest before returning to the flow of warm water. sunghoon stumbles back a bit, letting out an ‘ah’ through his laughter as your hand thumped against him. 

 “what else do you even need to do? haven’t you finished washing up by now?” sunghoon asks from the other side of the curtain. how cute is he, getting impatient as your time in the shower interrupts your time with him. 

“i’ll be done soon, i just need to finish shaving,” you tell him, completely oblivious to the idea that appeared unexpectedly in your boyfriend’s mind. 

“can i watch?” he asks, an ill-fitting casual tone lacing his brazen words. 

what?

you’re wildly flustered by his sudden request. 

“why would you want to? i promise it’s not anything special,” you tell him, confused as to why he’d want to watch you do such a simple thing in the first place. he was probably expecting your intimate parts to be put on an alluring display, but it’s not like you ever looked irresistibly attractive while you shaved. 

“please just let me watch, i’ve always been curious about it,” he pleads, his hopes of convincing you to comply with his request resting in the sky. “anything you do is special. and sexy.” 

gosh. you sigh. how were you supposed to resist your precious boyfriend when he asked you like that? his curiosity towards the way you complete such a mundane function seemed genuine, anyway. 

you comply, although you make him understand the conditions of his request. 

“fine. but it won’t be sexy, just so you know. i’m just gonna shave in the same unflattering position that i always do.” 

sunghoon flings the shower curtain aside with excitement, looking directly into your eyes with a faint smirk dusting his features. god, he’s so attractive, you thought. you could just melt into a puddle under his gaze. 

“do i have to remind you that you’re always sexy, even when you aren’t trying to look sexy?” 

a wide smile crawls across your face, your lips utterly betraying you, and you bite your lip to prevent it from growing any further. “shut up,” you say, turning around to grab your razor, then sitting down with your back resting against the wall of the shower. 

sunghoon leans his shoulder against the wall near the shower, crossing his arms over his chest. his intense stare almost made you uncomfortable, but you remember his undeniable desire to watch you do this, and his enthusiasm assists you in relaxing. he was your boyfriend, after all. you were always candid around him. he’s seen you do everything, whether you felt attractive or not. 

you separate your legs, completely exposing the most intimate part of yourself in such a natural setting. sunghoon inhales sharply. 

you look up at him, noticing the sudden heaviness of his expression, his features tugged down by such a tempting display. his eyelids were notably lax. is he already starting to get turned on? 

upon noticing your gaze, his stare travels from your unshaven pussy to your eyes. 

“you ready for the show?” you joke, relieving a bit of the tension. i’ll end up hurting myself if i get turned on, too. sunghoon smiles a bit. “i’m stoked,” he replies with the same friskiness. 

you slightly adjust the way you were sitting to give yourself a proper view of each spot that needed your razor’s attention. you begin gliding the razor across the sensitive skin attentively, using your fingers to spread yourself as you needed. sunghoon’s eyes were stubbornly locked onto the scene in front of him. 

the way your fingers moved across your pussy, although you weren’t trying to pleasure yourself it still drove him insane. blood began rushing to his cock and the speed of his breathing steadily increased. he throbbed in his sweatpants. you enthralled him. he almost couldn’t take it. why would he ask to be tortured like this? idly watching you, pussy exposed, as you casually glided the razor and your fingers across your delicate skin. 

god he was so turned on. he struggled to contain his predatory cravings while you carefully shaved yourself, since he didn’t want you to end up getting hurt. still, he needed you painfully. 

“babe, finish up,” sunghoon suddenly says, voice deep and breathless. your pussy throbbed a bit at the desperation in his voice, and with the way you were fully exposed before him, you know he must’ve noticed it. 

“i’m almost done, baby. just one more thing,” you say tenderly. 

his awestricken gaze remains attached to you as you suddenly stand up. he impatiently slips off his shirt, wanting to be ready to latch onto you when you’re finally finished. 

you turn your body around, sunghoon’s eyes immediately traveling the expanse of your bare shoulders, moving to the curves of your waist, and utterly basking in the plumpness of your lovely behind. your skin burned as you could feel his intense stare. 

although you were never uneasy around sunghoon, what you were about to do next made you a bit too bashful to face him. 

you spread your ass apart to shave the space in between, wanting to make sure all your intimate parts were perfectly smooth. sunghoon’s mouth falls open slightly in astonishment, and he exhales heavily, eyes fluttering in a faint manner. did you enjoy torturing him? 

hearing his reaction, you’re quite surprised that he actually found your actions sexy, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. 

sunghoon was so aroused he felt like he could explode. the fight against his inner desire to touch you is increasing rapidly in difficulty. he quickly removes his sweatpants and boxers, his painfully solid cock springing free, already dripping in anticipation of being sheathed inside your heavenly pussy. 

you rinse your razor off underneath the stream of the shower, and you quickly rinse your body to rid yourself of any tiny loose hairs. 

“all done,” you say, turning to look at sunghoon, the unobstructed sight of his naked body sending heat across your skin. 

he quickly joins you in the shower, shutting the curtain behind him and grabbing your hips with fervor. he pulls you towards him until his cock is poking at your stomach, and he walks forward until you thud against the shower wall. your hands reach his chest, gliding across the skin until they rest upon his shoulders. 

“you looked so fucking sexy doing that,” his hands begin to tighten around your hips as if he was starving, and you were the meal he was aching to devour. “it was so hard to stop myself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you until can barely speak,” he connects his lips with yours before you can even react to his crude words, and you can immediately feel the fierce, greedy arousal that had been welling up inside him. 

he shoves his tongue into your mouth, too hungry to play the slow and gentle game with you. he felt like he could burst at the seams. 

his hand moves from your hips to your pussy, his middle finger sliding eagerly between your folds, exploring and inspecting you to check if you were ready to take him. he just couldn’t take it. he’d never felt so impatient about anything in his life. 

he breathes out as you moan quietly into his mouth, your voice breaking and your volume suddenly increasing as he shoves his middle finger inside of you with haste. you grip the space between his neck and shoulder in desperation. 

he pulls his face away from yours to watch your features contort as he pumps his middle finger slowly inside of you. 

“you really this wet just from me looking at you?” his palm makes repeated contact with your clit, and his finger persistently skates along the spongy patch inside of you.  

“should i stretch you out some more? hm?” he asks, not truly expecting an answer. his ring finger glides directly beside his other digit, and his pumping grows rapid once both fingers are fully enveloped by your warmth. 

grabbing the back of your thigh, he pushes your leg up to gain a more generous angle. he admired as your pussy laid on display, just for him. just how he wanted it to be. 

your eyes nearly flutter shut, your face twitching in bliss as his fingers move in and out of you at a swift pace. his palm made contact with your clit each time his fingers rammed inside of you, and the way he stared menacingly into your eyes as he forced you open on his fingers entirely overwhelmed you. your eyes already burned with tears from the pleasure sunghoon piled onto you. 

he smirked down at you. how cute, he thought. 

“aw baby, are you already crying for me?” his fingers don’t falter as he speaks to you condescendingly. 

“is my cock gonna be too much for you?” you shake your head urgently, sunghoon’s skilled fingers sending your mind to an unimaginable state, beyond delirious. sunghoon lets out a satisfied chuckle before he speaks again. 

“i know it’s not. you’re just gonna take it however i give it to you.” as his words fall out of his mouth menacingly, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you dizzy and empty before lowering your leg. sunghoon already waited enough. he needed to be inside you. 

“turn around,” he says bluntly. you quickly oblige, never daring to question a request during sex with sunghoon. 

your hands rest against the slippery shower wall, and you feel sunghoon’s hands upon your hips again, pulling them back until he’s pleased with your position. twinged with desire for you, sunghoon’s hands find your ass and he spreads it apart, smacking it. how relieving was it that he could finally touch you the way he desperately wanted to as he watched you moments before. 

sunghoon kisses your back, causing you to twitch. his lips move to the side of your neck before grazing your ear, his nose sniffing your hair. he was intoxicated by everything about you. 

“need to know you’re ready for me,” he whispers, waiting for your approval before letting his impulses take control of him. 

“i’m ready, sunghoon.” you announce gently.

his length, unimaginably stiff with need, rams into you abruptly to the hilt. sunghoon takes a moment to revel in the fact that he’s finally surrounded by your pussy. your warm silky pussy was hugging him so snugly, and he’s never felt more compelled by anything in his entire lifetime. 

he starts ramming into you, punishing your insides with the ferocity and speed of his hips. his grip on your hips tightens to a painful measure, his nails digging into your skin, showing you just how hungrily he longed to bury himself into you, just how deprived he was of the pleasure you provided him with.

“hoon, slow down! too fast!” you moan out, barely finding the ability to speak due to the way he relentlessly tore through you. 

he continued the way he torturously snapped into you, not changing the way his hips moved in the slightest.

“you know i can’t, baby,” he breathes out, “just be a good girl and take it for me, like you always do.” as he continues his harsh dealing of your body, your moans begin to sound more like sobs. 

god, he was obsessed with it. 

“it’s ok baby, fuck, i know you can do it.” sunghoon was in bliss. there was no way he could stop now, especially when he knew you could handle it. sunghoon knows you well enough to recognize when you’re at your limit, and you still had more to give him.

“ah, fuck, you feel so fucking good baby.” sunghoon groans, using one hand to brace himself against the shower wall. you were absolutely falling apart underneath him. 

“so soft, so pretty for me,” he tells you, his brows furrowing as he surrenders himself entirely to your pleasure. he moves to attach his lips to your neck, and your mouth gapes open, your cries now struggling to leave your throat. 

“close, sunghoon,” you manage to tell him, and the way your name falls off his lips along with the uncontrollable moans you let out leaves him dazed. 

“oh god baby, me too,” he says, his voice strained. he returns his lips to your neck, breathy groans leaving him as he grows closer to spilling inside of you. 

his hand that rested on your hip glides along your stomach and down to your clit, rubbing rapid circles causing you to shove your hips back towards him. his lips detach from your neck as he moans deeply. you grab his forearm, pleading with him to take it easier on you, but he continues regardless. 

you cuss and stutter out sunghoon’s name as you cum, your body curling forward slightly, utterly overwhelmed by the blinding waves of pleasure coursing through you. you barely register sunghoon’s chants of “that’s it, baby,” as your eyes flutter and roll back, your body trying to handle the orgasm that sunghoon just gave you. 

the way your body shook and your pussy spasmed around his cock made sunghoon squeeze your hip brutally as he groaned, closing his eyes. he spilled inside you, his mouth falling open as deep, breathy moans fell from his lips in slow succession, the pace of his hips slowing to a complete stop. he furrowed his brows, astonished by the high that only you could give rise to.

he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burrowing his face into your neck as the both of you recovered. the feeling of his breath against your neck sent chills fiercely coursing through you. 

“god, you’re amazing,” he mumbles into your neck, placing his parted lips on the moist skin softly, his breath still hitting your neck with the wispiness of a feather. you smile, turning to glance back at him as his head lifts from the refuge of your skin. 

he pulls his length out of you slowly, now drenched in your essence having just been plunged inside of you. his length gradually leaves you empty as your pussy returns to it’s normal size, reminding you just how much he stretched you out. 

he turns your body around, moving his hands fondly along the curve of your waist, fingers satisfied by the smoothness of the trail they traveled. he pauses when he notices the prominent nail marks and bruises around your hips. you can recall the way he heedlessly attacked your hips while drilling into you, but you weren’t burdened by it at all. 

he frowns and shifts his eyes to meet yours. “i’m really sorry, baby, i didn’t realize,” he says regretfully. “are you hurt?” he asks with concern, hoping for a certain answer. the endless domain of his shiny brown eyes makes you melt, your adoration for him swelling within you. 

you smile a bit, shaking your head to convey your lighthearted perception of his actions. “hoon, i’m fine. it didn’t bother me one bit,” you assure him, pinching his cheek. 

his expression flips with a bright cheekiness at your admission. “yea, i could tell,” he pokes, beginning to dramatically mimic the sounds of your pleasured cries from moments ago. 

you gasp, lifting your fist to bash the side of it into his chest repeatedly. sunghoon laughs, his embarrassing mockery of you stopping as you began your onslaught. you push his giggling body off of you and pout in jest. you move past him to step towards the warm water, rinsing your sweaty body. 

you feel his hands drifting across your body again as he sweetly says, “here, let me wash you up.”

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — duck (nrk)

pairing. idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader synopsis. you want a sonny angel hipper genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1947 notes. ft. enhypen library.

ever since your friend showed you her sonny angel hipper on the back of her phone you knew you needed one.

it had been about a month ago when you had set your eyes and manifestations toward getting the duck baby for your phone.

specifically, because the duck reminded you of your boyfriend, riki.

riki being an idol, garnered him a representative animal. amongst a few others, the duck stood out the most.

you thought it was the most accurate and adorable animal they could have chosen for him. he looked exactly like a duck to you.

you had even told his members that he resembled a duck before being told it was his emoji.

he reluctantly told you all of his self-revised profile after a while of dating.

when you had first met riki you accidentally bumped into him while trying to get the sonny angel furthest from the front of the display. convinced that by some miracle a sonny angel would be hiding amongst the smiskis.

defeated you had stood up and accidentally bumped right into riki.

you stared up at the tall figure clad in a hat and mask apologizing. until your eyes landed on the small box in his hand. the only baby you had seen all day.

“where did you get that from?” you asked curiously, looking up at him.

“oh um i’m holding it for my friend,” he coughed. “it was the last one.” pointing towards another boy with a mask and sunglasses on in the corner.

“oh.” you frowned, looking back over at the shelf.

your older sister had texted you saying she was on her way back to pick you up from downtown and you were sad again leaving the store. as you came every week in hopes of getting another baby.

you had plenty of regular sonny angels but you hadn’t been able to find any marine series ones. you had been coming for a whole month straight but every time the store employees had apologized for being sold out.

he saw how sad you were and decided sunoo could always get another one. he had to buy it for you.

you had walked off to look around the store.

riki was scared you were about to leave so he quickly rushed to the cashier and bought the toy baby. he asked the employee for a pen. he quickly wrote his number on the receipt and ran after you.

nearly stepping out of the exit you were stopped by riki with a shopping bag.

“i got this for you!” he huffed, catching his breath. how did you walk so fast?

surprised and confused you took the bag from his hands and opened it.

riki watched your eyes widen and your lips break into a smile.

you opened the blind box and ended up getting the exact one you wanted, the penguin. you jumped up and down excitedly for a couple of seconds before remembering you were celebrating in front of a stranger. a cute stranger.

“oh my gosh thank you thank you thank you!!” you exclaimed. “this was the exact one i’ve been hoping for oh my gosh!!”

“it’s no problem really,” he chuckled. “you looked so sad and i didn’t want to see a cute girl leave empty-handed.”

you could feel your cheeks heat up but thank god for your full coverage foundation.

“thank you so much..?”

“riki. i’m riki nice to meet you.”

“i’m ____!”

then looking back at your new sonny angel and bringing him up to your eye level.

“i guess his name will also be riki since you got me the penguin i’ve been hoping for!” you said giggling, turning the baby around to show him your new toy named after him.

“how can i repay you?” you asked.

“it’s nothing! but my number is written on the receipt if you ever need someone to buy you another one.” he winked at you.

you swore you were dreaming.

you two stared at each other for a couple of seconds but then were interrupted by the honk of a car. which when turning around happened to be your sister parked on the side waiting for you.

“thank you so much again riki!”

“text me when you get home.”

then in the blink of an eye, you were driving away with your sister. not forgetting to wave at riki who watched from the doors of the store.

you let out a laugh when you saw his friend come up from behind him with an angry look on his face.

the rest is history.

it was around 11 am and you were now desperately trying to shake riki awake. you needed to buy a sonny angel hipper like your friend and needed him to come with you. it was not like you couldn’t go alone but you hated driving alone.

“ki wake up plz!!” you sighed, rolling over him a bunch of times like you were a human-sized lint roller.

which you were then stopped by a long arm locking around you, preventing you from moving.

“just go back to sleep baby,” he mumbled, moving you next to him and burying his face in your neck.

“but i need to buy a sonny angel hipper!” you exclaimed, squirming around.

“why don’t you just buy one online ____?”

“because!! i want the duck one and having you there ups my chances of getting the duck because you're a duck.” you complained.

“can we go later? i’m still sleepy..” he yawned, tightening his grip on you.

you shot up and went to the bathroom to get ready. you were going to get him to get up now no matter what.

“you know, i could always go with sunghoon! maybe i’ll get the penguin and name it after him!” you yelled from the bathroom.

the mere mention of his hyung’s name made him shoot out of bed and head straight to his closet to get dressed.

he heard you squeal in victory and laughed to himself.

in 20 minutes you were finishing your makeup while riki stood behind you doing your hair. he had already dried it for you and was now contemplating which hairclips he should add to match your outfit.

you applied some lip balm and then grabbed riki’s arm to put some on him since his lips were awfully dry and you both set out for the kitchen.

you were met with the smell of pancakes made by jay waiting for you at the table.

two plates next to each other, you however having waffles instead of pancakes since jay always remembered that you liked them better than pancakes.

“so where are you two off to?” asked jungwon, as he took a sip of his drink.

“i want to buy a new sonny angel!” you told the table. “it’s going to look just like riki!”

“so you’re getting the duck one?” said sunghoon, to which you nodded.

“oh can i come??” jake spoke.

“oh well it’s a date-”

“no.” the other 6 answered for you.

“worth a try..” jake sulked, taking a sad bite out of his chocolate chip pancake.

“make sure to cover up, are you taking the train?” jay advised.

“what no! i can drive remember!” you reminded them.

you had had your driver's license in the states for about 2 years now and now have your license here. when you first met riki you were visiting your sister for the summer as she decided to study abroad. you and riki did some long distance for about a year until you moved and followed in your sister's footsteps.

“riki’s your passenger princess.” jake quipped, causing the other members to laugh.

“none of you can drive anyways, what if someone were to try and chase your van but the driver wasn’t there to start the vehicle? you are all doomed.”

“it’s ok ____ you would save us!” said sunoo.

“no i’d save riki.” you replied, earning some joking eye rolls and a chorus of ‘boos’.

you and riki finished eating and brought your plates to the sink. riki made sure to grab 2 masks for the both of you and some sunglasses for himself. then you were off.

you parked the car in the closest parking spot you could find next to the store you and riki met at. he’d paid for parking before you could and then you both quickly crossed the street and walked inside.

making a beeline to the wall of blind boxes, you and riki got to searching. high and low in every section of the store to see if someone’s mom had said no and a kid was forced to put it back. but no luck. just like the first time you met, no luck.

you sighed and riki dragged you to the nearby café to buy you some cake to cheer you up.

on the drive home riki fed you spoonfuls of the cake since it was getting late and driving at night was not your favorite.

once you entered the doors you went straight to riki’s room to mope and rot in his bed. you really wanted the duck so you could have something on your phone to match the riki polaroid in it.

riki followed shortly after, after greeting his members and putting the leftovers you guys had brought home in the fridge.

you felt the bed dip next to you and you turned around to see riki. by nature you rolled on top of him, resting your head on his chest.

it wasn’t that late, but the sunsetting had made you feel the need for a nap.

riki ran his fingers through your hair, humming, and lulling you to sleep.

once he was sure you were asleep he reached to unplug his phone from his bedside table. he started to search the internet for the duck hipper you had been so determined to get.

he scrolled for 20 minutes trying to find the cheapest one on ebay and eventually settled on one going for 20 dollars.

he quickly paid and then he fell asleep.

a couple of days later it arrived and now it was riki’s turn to forcefully wake you up. you woke up but didn’t budge, resulting in riki having to carry you to the living room couch while he opened the box addressed to him.

once he had cut all the tape he placed the box on the coffee table, sitting down next to you and moving you to sit in his lap.

“____,” he called softly. “it’s for you.”

you rubbed your eyes and picked up the small box. pulling the top back to reveal the duck sonny angel you had been wanting.

your eyes shot open, feeling wide awake now. you threw your arms around riki’s neck and thanked him continuously, kissing both of his cheeks in the process.

running back to his room to retrieve your phone, he used that time to throw the box in the garbage.

you came back with the new duck hat baby-clad attached to the top of your phone. being way too hyper and running back to your boyfriend you bumped into heeseung.

“hee! look i finally got my riki sonny angel!” you said waving the figure around in his face.

“wow, looks just like him,” he said, patting your head and passing you to go to the fridge.

you went back to the couch to sit next to riki and grabbed his phone. you made him pose with your phone case and photocard in a point-five photo. which you then changed to your lock screen.

riki giggled at your phone being strictly him-themed and brought you into a quick kiss.

[pricegouge]

Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)

masterlist | taglist: @pricegouged

babysitter!reader x single dad!price

cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. MDNI

this is in response to a prompt but i don't wanna publish the ask until it's all done and up. also, i don't think this is recognizable against what she posted, but i do remember reading @ceilidho 's musings on this exact dynamic forever ago and it poisoned my brain so any similarities are in fact her fault cause she's gotta stop being so brilliant

Banner by @cafekitsune

>Running late but the door's unlocked. Feel free to let yourself in.

You read the text again as you park your car alongside the shiniest Lexus you've ever seen in your life. It rubs you wrong, the whole thing. The triple wide garage and the perfectly manicured lawn, the lack of a formal meeting and now this - 'Come on in and meet my daughter unsupervised for the first time, the door to my aggressively lavish home is unlocked just for you.' 

It had your hackles raised, creeping up the drive with caution. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the Laswells hooking you up with this gig, you probably would've backed right back out just as soon as you'd parked, but they'd never steered you wrong before and you doubted they would start tonight. 

Kate Laswell wouldn't tolerate some kind of pervert, and she definitely wouldn't recommend your services to him. 

The door is indeed unlocked, though you have some difficulty finding it at first. The flow of the walkway leads you right to the paneled door, but it certainly doesn't look very welcoming and at first glance you mistake the recessed entryway for just another confusing design element. But then the pathway runs out, bordering up to a lawn so lush it may as well have been planted with a carpet and you chew your lip, contemplating. For a moment you think to look for a back door, but then you take one step onto the lawn and your boot kicks out from under you, the soil beneath deceptively soaked by the automatic sprinkler no doubt. The fall isn't hard, just enough to plant you on your ass and splash some soil up onto your face. You frown at your dirty hands and then frown even harder when you see the trench your trainer has dug into the beautiful lawn. Standing, you try to wipe your palms on your hips and discover yet more mud so you give up, toeing a hunk of grass back into place in an attempt to cover the divot. 

When you turn back to the house, your brain finally makes sense of the broad bands of wood, the lock, and the handle. You pull open the heavy door with a frustrated sigh, finding a moody foyer - pale flooring contrasting nicely with the glossy black wall which stood across from you, subtle inlets suggesting it hid closet space if only you were clever enough to figure out how to open it. Fucking rich people.

You remove your muddy shoes out of necessity, but you leave them in a dirty pile next to the door and head off in the direction of little kid TV noises with your jean jacket still firmly in place. You've had enough hoity toity doors for one day.

Emily is four, and you think at first that her father must be brave to leave her unsupervised while he gets ready in the other room, but you suppose needs must, and she's well enough behaved to be trusted it seems, if the pristine state of the room is anything to go by. She sits placidly on the floor, playing idly with a pile of HotWheels as she zones out to some bubbly princess show on the screen. She jumps about a foot when you call to her to make yourself known, and then watches warily as you introduce yourself. For a moment you think you'd rather face a parent's scrutiny, her dark eyes so intense on your face you briefly wonder if she's got the shining or something, if maybe she's about to tell you how you die -

And then she points at you with a boxcar accusationally. "Why are you so dirty?"

"Oh," you laugh awkwardly. It's stupid to flounder under a child's gaze but you feel a bit out of your depth already so you do, smearing more mess across your pants when you pat your dirty hands over your thighs. "Took a little tumble outside."

"You look silly. You need to clean up."

"I -. You're right, I do. Where's the bathroom, please?"

But Emily is uninterested in helping you, it seems, instead much more entertained by the vaguely rhythmic chanting of 'dirty girl' she sets into, clamoring to her feet in order to run circles around you, pointing every now and again to make it clear who she's singing about.

You sigh to yourself, hoping against hope that she's not another spoiled rotten client. You're getting real sick of rich people and their spoiled kids, honestly. But you don't bother trying to correct her behavior. You are after all a stranger who just wandered into her home covered in mud. Any adjustments made now likely wouldn't be taken seriously by a child and that's okay, you wouldn't take anyone seriously under those conditions either. So you just grumble good naturedly and break free from her little circle, wandering in the direction of a dark, recessed hall off to your left. 

"The bathroom over here?"

"Dirty girl, messy girl!"

"Good talk," you mutter to yourself, socked feet slipping on the polished floor. You were definitely going to Risky Business the hell out of this place once the little shit had gone to bed. In the privacy the hallway offers, you give it a trial run, grinning like an idiot as you overshoot the first door and sidle back, rapping your knuckles on the frame out of habit. You roll your eyes at yourself for it, knowing full well the only other person home is upstairs getting ready, and push the door open just as someone from within grumbles 'In use!'

It's like you've never seen a man before, the way you stand there and gape. Looking at him now, you're not sure you ever have.

John Price is big. And hairy. And wet. And big, meaty fist so thoroughly swallowing the razor he's pulling up his exposed throat that at first you're unsure if he's just feeling himself up, inspecting the thick cords of his neck, maybe. Shaving cream drips down his bare chest in sticky rivulets, matting the thick pelt to his pecs. Water flows into the runnel between them, chestnut hair darkened by the runoff from his task. It drips down his forearms too, at least as far as it can, the hair there so thick it dams up somewhere around his wrists. He wears a towel slung low on his hips, his muscled belly hanging over the hem. It's tied off on the hip closest to you and hanging on for dear life, the breadth of him testing its capabilities. It gapes open high on his thigh, yet more hair and dense meat on display.

In the overwhelming humidity of the room, each breath feels too heavy to take, like your chest is simply too weak. You want to stammer an apology, but your mouth is suddenly much too dry and it comes out as little more than a series of clicking noises in your throat - 

Which are completely drowned out by the litany of 'dirty girl!'s behind you.

Mr. Price huffs a laugh, razor clattering against the sink as he taps it clean. The noise is muted in the dense air but it's enough to break you of your spell and this time when you apologize, your voice is winded and thin but at least audible. You step back, attempt to duck out, but then the man is turning to face you fully, motioning you closer with the hand that still holds the razor and you've never been one to disobey the people who pay you so you do, careful not to slip on the slick tile.

"Think you need it more than I do," John rumbles, deep voice lilting around the edges as if he's in on some joke that you're not. He nods to the sink he still mostly blocks when you shoot him a confused look, clock the open interest in his gaze.

Right, the mud. Some first impression. "Sorry," you chuckle, trying to make light of it. "I took a little spill in your yard just now. Mr. Price, yes?"

John at least nods and has the decency to look concerned but his niceties end there, still standing much too close as you step forward and run the faucet, getting to work on your hands. You keep your eyes locked on your task, afraid to make eye contact with his reflection in front of you. He's only one man but between the sheer size of him and the mirror, you feel like you've been caged in.

"But you're alright, I hope? Not hurt?"

"Nothing besides my ego." Your laugh is still breathless, nodding down the hall where Emily continues singing. In the reflection, you catch John staring down at you shamelessly and you duck your head again before continuing, "Your daughter has a way with words."

John chuckles, scratches his chest absently. You try not to zero in on the sound of it. "Gets her clever tongue from her mum, I'm afraid."

And maybe it's because you're stupid, or it's because humor's never failed to get you out of a bind before - maybe you just like making things difficult for yourself - whatever the cause, the effect's the same. You're an incorrigible flirt. "Well, don't sell yourself short."

The scratching against John's chest stops. When you look up, ears on fire, you find him staring back at you through the reflection, dark eyes so heavy they're nearly a physical weight. Your pulse thrums, whole body primed for a smart retort, but then Emily is in the door, laughing at her own antics. Her voice is bubbly when she asks if you can order pizza and it's hard to stay mad at her even when she calls you 'messy girl' again.

You start to say yes and then bite your tongue, unsure. You don't care how Mr. Price feels about delivery, honestly, but it's possible Emily has a dairy allergy you don't yet know about. This is why you usually prefer to meet parents ahead of time, but Kate had said the man was much too busy for such a thing, and the way he'd been scrambling for a reliable babysitter after his live-in nanny retired had made you sympathetic (see: very open to accepting clients who could afford live-ins), bending your rules for one of the Laswells' oldest friends. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time but now you were being guilted into cheesy comfort food, you find yourself ill-prepared

Thankfully, John takes over. "Not until you learn some manners first, munchkin," he proposes, wetting a hand towel and turning you to face him with a big hand on your shoulder. You frown up at him in confusion but he just ignores you, wiping at your temple with his towel as he continues talking to the toddler behind you. "That's Miss Messy Girl, alright? Only polite."

When he releases you, you glare up at him, no real heat. He smirks, taking the towel to his own face now, wiping excess product off his skin without breaking eye contact. "Now ask nice."

You flounder a moment, at a loss, and then have to resist the urge to kick yourself when Emily takes up the queue instead. Of course he meant his daughter.

"Miss Messy, can we please order pizza?" 

John laughs and suddenly you don't care how Mister Price feels about delivery. And if it turns out Emily can't have it, he can deal with her ensuing meltdown. He's already running late anyway. "Of course we can, sweetie. But please, my name is -." 

"MISS MESSY'S THE BEST!" Emily crows, jumping up and down on the spot. 

***

When he gets out of the bathroom, John teases you right up until the moment he heads out the door that pizza was your idea so you'll have to pay for it. He also throws a stack of flannel and henley at you, tells you to stop tracking mud all over his house or he'll add cleaning to your job description. You tell him you charge extra for that and he gives you a look like he's famished, like you're the first slice of meat he's seen in years.

It only gets worse when you emerge from the bathroom moments later with what can only be his pajamas hanging off you, but he never says anything inappropriate and he keeps his hands to himself. You try not to think about why that disappoints you. 

Resisting the urge to take a big whiff of his thermal is far more difficult. 

(Past the scent of fresh laundry, he smells like cedar and smoke and in the crease of the seams, something muskier lingers. 

You decide you're going to steal it right then.)

He shows you to the laundry room, shuffling a load of brightly colored girl's clothes from the dryer before giving you the rundown on how to use them. You're not sure what about you gives him the idea you don't know how to operate a washer, but you decide not to comment on it when it means him standing too close, the warmth of his body seeping into your back.

The spiel about Emily's schedule and needs is delivered as he shoves his feet into a brown pair of loafers. They match his belt perfectly, visible where he keeps his fitted button up tucked into pressed blue slacks. It's hard to pay attention to what he's saying but you're fairly certain you catch the gist of it. No strawberries or house parties, bed by ten at the latest and only if she's well behaved. He knows you have his number saved because he texted you about your availability this evening earlier in the week, but that doesn't stop him from standing over your shoulder to ensure he's still in there. You think you hear him snort when he sees he's saved as 'Mr. Price' with a money bag emoji but you steadfastly refuse to think too hard about it.

When everything finally meets his expectations, John scoops Emily up in a big bear hug and peppers her in kisses which leave her squealing in ticklish delight.

Emily hangs from him happily, little arms wrapped around his neck as if she'll never let go. You hear him whisper something conspiratorial directly into her ear which makes the girl giggle in delight before shooting you a wink which has your stomach fluttering with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. Likely, he's just telling her to behave for you and being cheeky about it, but he's far too handsome to be running around winking at young ladies like that and you've half a mind to tell him.

Maybe you'll pencil that in after your sock sliding. He does say you're allowed to text for any reason, after all.

"And I mean it. Don't want to waste my evening there anyway," he grumbles, setting his daughter down. 

"So stay here with me, daddy!" she implores. "I'm much cuter anyway." Little shit even strikes a pose.

John chuckles, hand heavy when he pets her hair. "The company here is much better," he hedges, and for a split second you think you see his eyes flick to you. "But unfortunately a man's gotta endure some boring business dinners from time to time if he wants to get ahead in life."

A beat passes while Emily seems to think that over. John starts his car from his fob while he lets her digest that, the very picture of placating indulgence. Vaguely, you want him to look at you - or through you - like that and then immediately decide that's a desire best left uninspected. 

"You're out every night!" Emily gripes, no real heat. It's the kind of thing you know will bug her later in life but for now she's too busy reveling in all the late night pizza parties and gifts he no doubt showers her with to mask his own guilt.

You've been there before.

"That's true," John allows, brief flick of regret across his face. "Which means you gotta be good for Ms. Messy so she'll come back."

Emily gives you a look as if she's not very excited by that prospect and you're so offended you forget to correct John about your position being regular. 

John laughs when you scoff, a harsh bark that stops your snide remark in its tracks. "Behave, you two," he says by way of farewell. "And try to get along."

Shrugging, Emily bounds away in search of better entertainment. John's big hand is on his ridiculous doorknob as he waves absently and then you're remembering so quickly there's no time to dress up your request when you call after him for pizza money.

A beat passes, Mr. Price blinks at you. You sheepishly tack on a please and he hums, digging in his back pocket for his wallet. "Suppose I can't expect you not to ruin my reputation as a good tipper," he grumbles and you gape when he hands you a crisp hundred note.

"That's way too much," you blurt, not even reaching to take it from him.

John just shrugs, tucks it into the hip pocket of his own pajama pants while you're still stiff as a board, winks as he tells you it's just a tip.

It's only after the door snicks shut on silent hinges behind him that your brain catches up enough to catch his double entendre 

***

Emily is a sweet girl, if a little catty at times but she's endlessly amusing to tease so you're honestly surprised when bedtime sneaks up on you both. Despite your chosen profession, you don't usually get along with kids as well as you do with her. She even carts herself off to bed with little complaint, an absolute unheard of when it comes to first nights with a new family. 

It's how you end up on the couch with too much time to spare, bored in a house that's smarter than you and unsure when you'll be relieved. You flick through the endless list of streaming services briefly, settling on some mindless comedy because you don't want to watch any girly romances and mess up Mr. Price's algorithm. 

Well, the messing it up part sounds endlessly entertaining, but not worth the embarrassment of him knowing the kind of stuff you blubber to at home. 

It's a fine enough distraction until you settle into the couch, the collar of John's shirt riding up until you can comfortably cover your face with it. It still smells like him, enough to deter you from going downstairs and swapping it for your own clothes. It's not a problem until the masculine scent and the boring movie have you reaching for your phone, scrolling through steamy romances until you find something to fantasize about. And even that's not a problem until the author earns their rating, the depiction of the female lead's satisfaction so explicitly rendered it has you rubbing your thighs together, head on a swivel lest you be surprised by a sleepless little girl.

By the time your face feels aflame and your panties feel soaked, you're debating texting John to see if he'd mind you crashing in a guest room when you jump a foot at a noise behind you, turning to find that very same man not two feet behind you.

That fucking door.

"Could've texted," you accuse, and Mr. Price holds up two hands in mock surrender.

"So could've you," he drawls and then smirks at your confused look, drawing in a rather pointed breath through his nose. "Told you to text if you needed help with anything."

It's just subtle enough you're not sure you would have gotten it if not for the graphic descriptions of heady scent your nose had just been stuck in. You stammer something that might be an apology, though you're not entirely sure why. Suddenly you feel like the frog being boiled alive.

He's kind enough not to let you flounder for too long, moving on like he's the picture of innocence with a heavy hand on the back of the couch, muscles of his forearm bunching when he leans over the back of it, just this side of too close. "Everything go okay, then?"

"Yes, Mr. Price," you recite, the fight to keep your legs uncrossed and neutral a conscious thing. You do not need to prove him right by overacting the blushing virgin.

"And Emily behaved?"

"Well," you hedge, voice high and humorous. You're desperate to get to familiar ground and it's the quickest path, unfolding before you well-trod and welcoming. Parents love when you can joke about their kids and John's no exception, eyes crinkling in delight as he conjures up whatever image he has of his daughter in mind.

"She can be a handful," he agrees even though you never said that. "Not so bad you'll refuse me for Wednesday though, I hope?"

You balk. "Wednesday? Day after tomorrow?"

"Aye, sorry for the late notice - again. But you'd be getting out of here a little earlier, at least."

"Mr. Price, I have…" A paper due, a social life that's slowly dying, responsibilities. "I'm busy that night. The Laswells -."

"I've already fixed it with Kate. You can bring Colin here for the evening, Gina will pick him up when she gets off work."

"But… Wait, I can bring him?"

"Well they'll need you for the morning, right? I won't need you until Emily's due back from preschool." He shrugs, the motion carrying him down until he leans both forearms on the back of the couch. "It just makes the most sense."

"But that's clear across town?"

"Oh, I'll pay for your gas, of course."

"Hang on. Am I picking up Emily, too?"

"Oh, would you? Thanks, you're such a dear."

You blink, overwhelmed. This was only supposed to be a one time favor for Kate's friend, you can't juggle school and two part time babysitting gigs. But you don't know how to tell him that in a way Kate hasn't already. "I'm not sure how I feel about watching both kids at once."

The look he gives you is borderline lecherous, though you're unsure why. "I'm sure you can handle it," he rumbles, voice suddenly much deeper. He clears his throat. "And we'd both pay you full rate, of course. Only fair."

You scoff. "Well yeah, I don't offer a group rate." 

Your jaw clicks closed audibly when his gaze turns hungry again. "Our loss."

Swallowing past the nerves in your throat, you eye him over openly. Technically, John hasn't moved any closer but the way he looms over you now feels somehow much more imminent than it had only moments ago; threatens to pin you in place lest you move out from under him. "I have to go get my clothes... I'll think on it?"

John smiles, just slightly forced. "'Course, kiddo. Need me to walk you downstairs? Basement can be a bit scary after dark."

"Um. No. Thanks."

He breaks away when you do, unfolding to his full, impressive height. "I'll be in the kitchen," he offers and then he lets you get away with no further comment.

Outside of Mr. Price's vaguely concerning influence, it's easy to see you'd be stupid not to take the job. You don't like how pushy he seems, but if you've already given up your day to work anyway, it's a no-brainer to take on the second income while you're at it. Besides, the beauty of under the table jobs like this was you could back out any time you wanted so there really wasn't much harm in taking the man who tips delivery drivers one hundred percent on for a few jobs, see how well it panned out for you. Even if you're fairly certain he's flirting.

Like, extremely certain.

But he was still annoying about it and you didn't like being taken advantage of or being teased like that, so you don't feel bad when you leave his comfy henley on under your sweatshirt, march back upstairs with your spoils well hidden.

In the kitchen, John inspects the label of a golden scotch you can't pronounce, thick fingers drumming on the counter silently. His watch catches the pendant light, a thick stripe of silver nestled in his dark hair. He's got his shirt unbuttoned like a whore, just far enough you can see a spot of the matching pelt there, your brain helpfully supplying you with memories of how he'd looked earlier, shirtless and dripping with cream. 

Shaving cream. Dripping with shaving cream.

"Are you old enough to drink?" He asks bluntly, pointing at the matching tumblers before him when all you manage is a blink in response.

"No. No, thank you!" You clarify when the man looks like he's about to choke on his tongue. It's enough to settle your nerves a bit, get your footing back underneath yourself. About time he's the one left floundering. "Sorry, I am old enough, but I gotta drive in a minute here."

John's quick to recover, pouring himself a neat glass as he shrugs. "Could spend the night."

"Well," you hedge, still worrying you're reading too far into all this. If it's too hot in here, you blame the three layers of tops you have on. "Wouldn't want to wear out my welcome. You'll see me again on Wednesday, after all."

His smile is just as honeyed and warm as his drink. "There's a good girl," he rumbles and it's a physical fight not to let your knees buckle when he comes close, another hundred note tucked into your front pocket. 

"That's way too much again, John," you breathe and his grin turns patronizing.

"John, is it?" He makes as if to snatch away the money and you take a step back, out of his range. He just grins at you over the rim of his glass, lets you keep your distance.

"S-sorry, Mr. Price." After a moment's deliberation, you ask if he'd like the money back and he snorts.

"Cute." Placing his drink on the counter with a clatter, he steps close and guides you to the door with a hand on your back. Part of you thinks your dismissal is a bit sudden, but you can't be too upset by it when you just want to hide under a pile of blankets until your nerves settle, maybe replace your pillow case with his shirt. "No, kiddo, I don't want that back. Just teasing. Over tipper, remember?"

"Right. Um. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says magnanimously, drawing to a stop next to your shoes and pushing them toward you with socked feet. He does nothing to hide his slight distaste at the sight of so much mud and you try not to let shame make you meek again, remembering instead how annoyed you'd been about his stupid door and his stupid lawn when you'd left them there. It's hard to maintain the feeling when he offers to walk you to your car, your weak little thank you just as pathetic as the one that came before.

John's the perfect gentleman, his hand returning to the small of your back as he ushers you down the drive. He tells you to text him when you get home safe and checks for fingers before closing the door. He even watches as you pull out, waving at you happily as you drive off. You spend the whole commute wondering what you've gotten yourself into and if you'll ever be able to look Kate in the eye again if you fuck her friend.

John calls you kiddo again when you text him that you've made it home safe, tells you to sleep well.

In the morning he asks if you've stolen his shirt.

Next>>

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Stay with me || D. Targaryen x Hightower!reader

GIF by @beaconofthehightower DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: In which you have been forced into marriage with the Rogue Prince by the King. However, it has been well over a year and the two of you yet to see eye to eye, mostly because of Daemon's dislike towards your father. When you find out that you're expecting, things seem to take a drastic turn.

a/n: no way this was sitting in my drafts since i first opened this acc end of last year🥹

“The bath is ready for you, my Lady.” The handmaiden bowed at your direction as you finish taking off your jewellery. “Thank you, you may go,” You bid her off, “But my Lady-“ She protested, “I am quite capable of bathing myself, thank you.” Meeting the maidens eyes through the mirror, you didn’t mean to sound rude and snap at the poor women—your pent up emotions needed releasing, hence why you called for a bath.

Without uttering another word, you watch as she closes the door with a loud thud. Throwing your necklace across the room to release the built up tension, you inhale deeply whilst leaning your hand against the bed post. Tears threatening to escape, you look up towards the ceiling so that they would not fall.

Finding out that you were with child was a rollercoaster of emotions. You were saddened at the thought of bringing a child into this cruel word. How could you try to make your child’s life happy when both of his/her parents were not with each other?

You thought that you could some how find times in your marriage that you would be happy, but you didn’t, the past 12 months were a nightmare. You barely got to see Daemon, and when you did, he’d be drunk and fall asleep without saying a word to you.

And the whispers and talks of people seeing him visit brothels in silk street were unbearable. You tried ignoring the best you could, but how could you when people didn’t even put any effort into quietening down when walking past you?

Brushing your lingering thoughts away, you walk to the bath that was bearably hot. Removing your thin night gown and letting it pile in a corner, you couldn’t help but stare at your still-flat stomach in the mirror. The thought of a babe growing inside was both amazing and terrifying.

Slipping your body in, a sigh leaves your mouth at the sensation of the hot water against your skin. After nearly 30 minutes, the door to your chambers opened.

There was only ever one person to open that door without bothering to knock, and that was your Husband. Eyes closed, you heard his footsteps until it came to a halt, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up, you turn your head to find Daemon watching you from outside the door that led to the bathroom.

“Husband.” You greeted turning your head back and closing them once again. “Wife.” He replied, taking off his clothes and changing. You were surprised he did not sound drunk like he usually did most nights. The two of you not uttering a single word until you got out of the bath.

You flinch once you realised Daemon was sat on a one of the sofas that faced your bath tub, not that the two of you were foreign to seeing each other naked. After drying up, you slip your night gown on once again before making your way to your dresser.

“Ao nektogon aōha ōghar, nyke ūndegon” His voice made you pause your actions, looking at his sat figure through the mirror. “2 two months ago Daemon.” You reply annoyed as you brush through your hair. “But you would know if you saw me more often.” Muttering under your breath, Daemon replied, “ȳdragon plainly.”(You cut your hair, I see) (Speak plainly)

Closing you eyes and taking a sharp inhale, you turn your body towards him, a cup with what you presume was alcohol in his hand. “What I mean, husband, is if you were here more often instead of spending your nights at the brothel, that you would notice the little things!” Your voice escalates in volume. Daemon throws his head back with a loud sigh. “Are we really doing this?”

“Where do your loyalties reside, husband? It is most certainly not with me! Whom you swore under the seven Gods that you would be there for me!” You were now standing up as you watch Daemon with an unreadable face.

“Ivestragon mirros!”You yell, “Skoro syt issi ao sir mentioning bisa?” He calmly asked. With furrowed eyebrows, you study his face, his gaze set to candles on the table. “Skoros?”(Say something) (Why are you now mentioning this) (What)

“Don’t act stupid y/n,” He scoffed, finally meeting your eyes, “Emi issare married syt mirri jēda, sir ao decide naejot elēni aōha concerns?” (We have been married for some time, now you decide to voice your concerns)

“Ivestragon nyke, skoro syt?” His deep voice questioned. Searching his eyes, and opening your mouth, no words seemed to come out. (Tell me, why)

“Cat got your tongue, my love?” Daemon smirked as you gulped, tears slowly but surely welling up. You found yourself pathetic, truth being the fact that you couldn’t even tell your own husband you were carrying his child.

Without saying another word, you turned around, blowed out all the candles except for the ones beside Daemon’s side of the bed, and slipped under the covers of your bed.

A loud sigh leaves the Prince’s mouth. Deep down, you wanted him to come to bed and engulf you in a hug. Instead, you hear the sound of the doors opening and closing, he left. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

~

Waking up to a cold and empty bed, you felt it slowly but surely making its way up your throat as you place the back of your hand to your mouth. Luckily, Eva, your closest handmaiden, had walked in just in time as you puked into the bucket.

“Perhaps having breakfast will be good for you, my Lady” She kindly smiles at you as you look up at her with a disgusted face at the thought of food at that moment. “I think not” You grumbled before getting up and getting ready.

“Has my husband returned yet?” Your eyes meet with the handmaidens’ through the mirror as you put earrings on. “No, my Lady” She looks down. “Should I even tell him?” You contemplate, fidgeting with your rings.

Before you could get a response, a loud knock comes from your door as you give a confused look to Eva as she quickly opens the door. “My lady, it’s your father.” She calls out before curtsying and leaving the room.

“Father,” You kiss his cheek to greet him. “I think it is best you go to the throne room now” He gives you a blank look. An awkward chuckle leaves your lips, “But why? What’s happening?” Concern spread through your body as Otto doesn’t say anything.

You quickly brush past him and make a beeline to the throne room. Upon entering, you were stopped by a kingsguard. “Who is in there” You question. “I cannot tell you that Lady-“ “I’m only going to ask you once, brother, who is in there?” You send daggers to your younger brother’s way.

“His Grace, Daemon, and-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you push past him and open the door. There sat Viserys on the iron throne with Daemon standing e of him, his back to you. What perplexed you even more was the women on her knees beside Daemon. A handmaiden to be precise. Viserys gives you a pitiful look, It was only when both Daemon and the handmaiden look back to you when you realise.

“I-“ You couldn’t even properly speak as you choked back tears. You felt like screaming at that moment. “Y/n-“ You didn’t even let Daemon utter another word before you closed the door—Gwayne giving you a concerned look—and sped off back to your room.

“Pack my things. I am leaving” You order your handmaidens as tears continuously roll down your cheeks. You were shaking, you felt like you were suffocating. “Are you all right my lady?” Eva places ger hand on your shoulder as you breathe heavily. “I-I need to get out of this dress- a-and breathe for gods sake!” You shout angrily as hands were already untying your dress.

You had about enough of Daemon’s behaviour. You needed to leave. After being dressed in something more comfortable, the doors open as your father walks in. “I assume you’re going back to Old town?” Your father places his hands behind his back as he watches you gather your jewelry.

“I am. If you expect me to stay here any longer with that-that horrid man then-“ “I don’t expect you to, daughter. He was caught in bed with her this morning. I assure you, that handmaiden will get what she deserves. Sleeping with her Lady’s husband, what was she thinking” Otto scoffs as tears blur your eyes.

“Have you even told him yet?” His question catches you off-guard. “No. After what I just found out I don’t think I will. He can find out later on after I’ve left” You say through greeted teeth as the last of your things were packed up.

“The carriage is already out there waiting for you, my Lady” Eva mentions as you nod at her. “Goodbye father, I hope you do come visit” You sadly smile before embracing him in a hug, his hands caressing your hair before you pull back and walk off.

It was pouring outside. You held your skirt up so it wouldn’t get dirty. “Y/n!” His voice booms over the rain as you pause. You quicken your pace but before you could even fully step into the carriage, a rough hand pulls you back.

Before you know it, your hand makes contact with his cheek with a loud slap. The few handmaidens gasp before they look down. He rolls his tongue against his cheek before chuckling, “I deserve that, don’t I?” “Oh you deserve so much worse Daemon.” You darkly chuckle at the man.

“I can’t believed you stooped that low- and with one of my handmaidens? How pathetic can you get, Husband. I have done nothing but been patient with you every day but this? That was the final straw. I’m leaving and you cannot stop me” You say the last bit through greeted teeth. “Were you going to tell me?”

You stop dead in your tracks. You breathe out from your nose, “Tell you what exactly?” Your head turns to him. “That you’re carrying my child. Was I ever going to find out? Or was I going to when I’m on my deathbed.” He shouts angrily as you keep your composure.

“And bring him up with a father who can’t even keep his loyalties to his wife? You’re delusional, truly.” A loud scoff emits your mouth. Not a second later, Daemon drops to his knees infront of you. People around whispering to each other at the sight of the Rogue Prince on his knees to his wife. You gulp as he looked so vulnerable. He looks up to you as he takes ahold of your hands. “Stay with me. Please. That is all I ask of you y/n” He pleads.

“Stay with you? I have stayed with you every day Daemon while you fucked your way through the brothels. I’ve had enough of hoping that you would finally see me as your wife!” Tears were once again pouring down your cheeks as you sniffle. “I can’t stay with you.” Your voice cracks before you pull away from Daemon’s touch and enter the carriage without looking back.

The carriage starts to move as you start sobbing harder. Daemon was still there kneeling as he watched his wife leave. He watched his entire future leave.

[likeumeanit9497]

loyalty test | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

summary: y/n's boyfriend, luke, notices how she stares at his roommate, chris. when they have an argument about it, y/n tells him that he's just reading into things. but when she finds herself completely alone with chris, will she be able to prove her loyalty?

warnings: smut; cheating (don't do this pls); unprotected p in v (don't do this either); oral (m/f receiving); hair pulling; dirty talk; toxic relationships; 18+

notes: IM BACK YAY!!!! y'all have no idea how happy i am to be writing again i was literally dying for the past couple of months. i got back about a week ago but i've been genuinely so jet lagged that i couldn't finish this one shot. but im finally starting to feel better so here i am at 2am finally posting. i hope y'all enjoy this one (ps it should go without saying that i do NOT condone cheating on ur partners EVER!!! this is fiction okay). love uuuuuu

pps im half asleep posting this so even though i made an attempt at proof reading, im sure this is not my best work so pls try to ignore any grammar errors u may come across ill fix them all eventually <3

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“How many shots am I pouring here?” Asked my boyfriend Luke as I watched him begin to place rows of shot glasses on his kitchen counter with a bottle of tequila in his hand before his teammates all began flooding in his direction happily awaiting their drinks. From my place on the couch, I was content watching them all celebrate their big win while I nursed one or two seltzers. The night was originally supposed to be just me and Luke having dinner and watching a movie, but the adrenaline from the win along with pleas from various teammates had suddenly turned the night into one where Luke’s apartment was flooded with sweaty men and various bottles of liquor.

Even though I had been looking forward to a quiet evening with my boyfriend of six months, I was happy to see him so happy and of course wanted him to be able to celebrate with everyone. So I watched with a smile as they all lifted their shot glasses in the air, chanted in a borderline cultish way, and took their shots. “Shit, it’s getting late. We should call the Ubers soon if we want to get into the club.” Luke announced after glancing at his watch, to which the other guys all mumbled in agreement.

I watched as Luke walked over to my place on the couch, putting his hands on my shoulders and leaning towards me. “Club?” I asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow as this was the first time I was hearing about these plans for the night. Luke smirked before responding. “You don’t mind if we go out for a little bit right? The other guys were really wanting to check that new place out that I’ve been going to lately, and as team captain I kinda have to go.” I stayed silent, trying to figure out a way to answer that wouldn’t make me sound like a needy girlfriend, when my attention was suddenly grabbed by the door behind Luke opening. From that room came Luke’s roommate, Chris, and I watched over Luke’s shoulder as he ruffled his hair, heading in the direction of the bustling kitchen.

My eyes followed his movements as he walked, stopping every few seconds to greet a handful of Luke’s teammates on his way. He was wearing pyjamas, and truly looked like he had just woken up from hibernation, but he gave the room warm smiles as his eyes travelled across it before finally landing on me. He stared at mine and Luke’s place for a brief moment, his eyes shifting between me on the couch and Luke’s large frame above me, and seemed curious, but after a moment went back to doing whatever he needed to do in the kitchen.

I continued to watch as he grabbed a drink from the fridge, and listened as some of the guys tried to convince him to go out with them. He kept shaking his head, a strong smile plastered across his face, and I felt my cheeks grow hot when he lifted his shirt slightly to scratch his stomach; exposing a few inches of skin and the low band of his boxers.

Just then, I was shaken — quite literally — out of my trance by Luke’s hand on my shoulder. “Y/n! Hello!” My eyes immediately shot to his, and I felt red hot shame cover my face as anger consumed his. “The fuck was that?” He kept his voice low, but his tone was so menacing that I felt the hair raise on the back of my neck. I stuttered, trying to come up with some excuse, before he lifted me off of the couch and practically dragged me into his bedroom. As soon as the door was shut behind us, he repeated himself. “What the fuck was that Y/n.” I stood tentatively in the middle of his room, trying desperately to find the words. “I-I just hadn’t realized that Chris was home, I was just shocked I guess?” I knew my excuse was weak — and my execution was even weaker — and that knowledge was confirmed by Luke rolling his eyes.

“Sure,” He scoffed. “I’m not stupid, Y/n. I notice it literally every single time you and him are in the same room. You stare at him, you laugh at everything he says, and you always find some excuse to be close to him.” His words embarrassed me, and I stared down at my feet in shame because I knew they were true. “It’s not like that Luke I just-” He cut off my excuse. “It doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to know that he’s a good looking guy, but you are mine. It’s fuckin embarrassing catching you looking at him all the time.” He stopped pacing around the room and stormed up to me, causing me to flinch slightly.

“You have anything you wanna say?” His breath was hot against my ashamed face, and I couldn’t bear to look up at him. “I-I’m sorry Luke.” My voice was barely above a whisper and I felt tears well up in my eyes. We stood there in silence for a short while, the only sound his heaving breaths and the muffled conversations from the guys in the kitchen. “I’m going. Not sure when I’ll be back, but do your best to behave when I’m gone.” His words were clipped, and he quickly exited his bedroom without so much as hugging me.

As soon as I heard his door shut behind him, I dissolved into tears of guilt. I couldn’t be upset at him for being so angry with me, because everything that he had accused me of was true. I knew that my attraction to Chris was beyond the simple acknowledgement that he was a good looking person, and that wasn’t fair to Luke. But I never meant for it to become something so noticeable, and I felt more ashamed than I had ever been before. I perched onto the edge of Luke’s bed as I attempted to regain my composure, listening to the excited chatter of the guys on the other side of the door as they prepared to head out to the club.

I hated that Luke was going out while being angry at me, and I hated even more that I had the audacity to be worried about his behaviour with other girls while he was out. Luke was a pretty decent guy, but when he was angry he had a tendency to do or say things that were really hurtful. The thought of this made me sob even harder. “God, I need a drink.” I said aloud to the empty room, and I fought with my emotions as I tried to straighten myself up.

After a few moments, the entire apartment grew silent as the guys must have all left for the club. In my solitude, I was able to catch my breath and stop the tears from flowing before getting back on my feet. Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I wiped the dried tears from my face and fixed my running mascara before heading towards the bedroom door. As I walked towards the kitchen, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of Chris sitting at the kitchen island.

Even after the horrible conversation I had just had with Luke, I felt my stomach flip at the sight of his loose t-shirt clad back and his messy curls. Frustrated with myself, I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath before continuing in his direction to grab a drink. “Hey Y/n.” He said once he saw me, a warm smile covering his face. “Hey Chris.” I replied, forcing myself to avoid looking at him by searching aimlessly for another seltzer.

“Everything okay?” He asked, and I felt myself tense at his question as I finally used common sense and opened the fridge to find a cold drink. “Yeah all good. Luke and I just had a little bit of an argument is all.” I replied, trying to keep my voice light hearted and hoping he hadn’t noticed my puffy eyes or runny nose. “Ah, I see.” He replied as I bent over to reach into the back of the fridge where I saw the last seltzer. “Would that argument have anything to do with him asking me to make a move on you to see if you would stay loyal?” His question shocked me so severely that I dropped the seltzer on the ground, causing it to explode its carbonated contents all over the kitchen floor.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, picking up the cracked can and throwing it into the sink. Turning back around to face the mess, I found Chris with a roll of paper towel wiping up the liquid. “I got it, thank you.” I said, getting down onto my knees to begin cleaning up. Chris handed me the paper towel before standing up and leaning his frame against the counter. The room was silent as I compulsively wiped away at the floor, using the task as a distraction from the question Chris had just asked me. I felt his gaze on me from above, and all it did was add fuel to the fire that was burning hazardously strong inside of me.

After some time, I realized that the floor couldn’t get much cleaner so I had to put an end to my procrastination and face the conversation. “So, uh,” I hesitantly looked up at Chris through my lashes, feeling more ashamed than ever before. “What did Luke say to you exactly?” I watched as he shrugged. “He really didn’t say much. He just pulled me to the side right before they all headed out and asked me to ‘test you’.” He added air quotes to the end of his sentence, and I felt a small sizzle of anger in my core at Luke’s audacity.

I stood up and grabbed the half finished bottle of tequila from the counter, pouring it into a cup and adding a bit of pineapple juice before drinking the whole thing in one sip. At this, Chris raised an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He asked, and I felt nerves flood my body. “Give me a second.” I replied, grabbing the tequila again but this time taking one, two, three sips directly from the bottle. I winced at the burn that traveled from my throat down to my stomach, and Chris waited in silence as I squeezed my eyes shut; taking deep breaths in preparation.

“Long story short,” I began, turning my body so that I was now facing Chris, “Luke confronted me tonight because he caught me staring at you.” I watched as Chris’ eyes widened slightly before going back to normal. “I told him that I just hadn’t known that you were home so I was just surprised to see you, but he didn’t believe me, and it sort of caused this big fight between us.” I explained, feeling my nerves flutter around my stomach; shocked that I was able to tell him what had happened. Chris stayed silent, his eyes searching my face but staying completely unreadable and I felt like my chest might explode from nerves.

“I mean, obviously he’s just being insecure but-” My rambling was cut off then by Chris. “Is he?” His question caught me off guard, and my eyes snapped to his as I felt my face fall. A small smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth as I stared at him blankly, unsure of what I could even say. After a moment, I blinked quickly and scoffed. “Ah I see, this is the test.” I chuckled and reached once again for the tequila before taking a few more sips; this interaction being far too much for me.

“No, it was a real question, I swear.” Chris repositioned his body so that he was now facing me head on, and took a step closer to me. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me? And I’m not just talking about tonight. I notice, Y/n.” Once again, all of my words failed me and I could only stare blankly at his questioning figure. “And don’t think I forgot about that one night.” I gasped and instinctively squeezed my eyes shut, already knowing where he was going with this.

“Just out there, when we were sharing that cigarette,” He nudged his head in the direction of the sliding glass doors in the living room that led to their large balcony, “We were drunk, but I remember you blowing the smoke into my mouth.” I felt him take another step closer to me; the heat radiating from his body causing my own to shudder. “Your lips touched mine, Y/n. I can still remember how soft they were.” His voice seemed to drop an octave, and he was whispering now as he spoke of that night five months ago, when I met him for the first time.

Luke had wanted me to meet his friends, so a big group of us had all gone to a bar together. Although I don’t usually make it a habit, I got extremely drunk that night thanks to the nerves that came from meeting a large group of new people, and ended up wanting to go home early. Luke was still having a good time and didn’t want to leave the bar with me, so Chris had offered to take me back to their apartment where Luke could meet us later. Once the two of us had made it back to the apartment, I asked Chris to sit with me while I smoked out on the balcony.

We talked for a while, learning about each others’ lives, while we shared a few cigarettes. What he was now talking about had happened, and I truly don’t know what came over me when I had done it, but I had spent the past five months trying to pretend that it was just a dream. But now, standing alone in the kitchen, we were talking about it for the first time since it happened, and I couldn’t ignore the flutter in my stomach that his hushed tone caused.

As if reading my mind, he continued. “I know we haven’t spoken about it, and maybe we should have sooner. But we haven’t been alone together once since then.” I stared blankly as he took yet another step towards me; closing the space between us almost entirely. My heart was beating so hard that I was sure that he could hear it, but once he placed a gentle hand on my hip I was pulled back to reality; immediately taking a few steps away from him while shaking my head.

“This is crazy,” I made a weak attempt at laughter as I backed away from him, “I don’t know how you expect me to fail this ‘test’ that Luke put you up to after literally telling me all about it.” I suddenly grew slightly hot with anger after reminding myself of Luke’s request to him, and the alcohol that was beginning to flood my veins wasn’t making it any easier to get over. I turned away from Chris, busying myself by starting to throw away the empty beer bottles, when he continued.

“I never told you that I agreed to do it.”

I froze, his words causing my fuzzy brain to turn onto high alert. Slowly, I turned to face him, more confused than ever before. He was leaning casually against the countertop still, with a small smirk across his lips. Noticing the confusion laced through my features, he shrugged before expanding. “I told him I don’t do that kind of shit, that if there was an issue between you two you’d have to work it out between yourselves.” None of his explanation was making things make sense, if anything I was just becoming more and more confused.

“Then what was all that just a minute ago?” I asked weakly, nervous to hear his explanation. Again, there was that dangerous smirk that I would have almost missed if my eyes weren’t glued to him in desperation for things to make sense. “That was real.” He replied simply, and my jaw almost dropped in utter shock. “Chris, he’s your roommate. You guys are friends, aren’t you?” My stomach was in knots, and my cheeks felt hot. He shook his head solemnly, “He’s not a good guy, Y/n.” As if I could read his mind, I knew what he meant without him even having to say anything else. But still, he continued.

“Why do you think he never ever asks you to go out with him to clubs anymore?” Chris asked, his voice taking on a gentle tone as if that would minimize the hurt of what I knew was coming. Weakly, I shrugged, too afraid to ask him to continue but hoping beyond anything else that he would. He sighed. “Apparently there’s this bottle girl that works at that new club that they’ve been going to lately.” My stomach dropped, but somehow I wasn’t surprised. Painfully, Chris continued. “I overheard him talking about her to one of the guys a few weeks ago. Something about going to her place after she finished her shift that night.”

At that, a single tear fell down my cheek. Not out of shock, or even sadness, but anger. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” Chris said at nearly a whisper, and I simply nodded my head; jaw clenched to keep myself from losing my cool. “W-why didn’t you say anything to me before?” I finally managed to ask, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my shaking hands. That same look of shame he had before confessing to me clouded his face once again. “I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you.” One more lonely tear fell down my cheek, and I angrily swiped it away.

“I see how much you do for him around here, and it’s obvious that you love him.” He took a step towards me, tentatively, before continuing. “But I also see the way he treats you, and you don’t deserve that.” He paused for a moment, seemingly trying to find his next words. “I honestly never really liked the guy. Sure we’re roommates, but only out of convenience. Once I overheard that conversation a few weeks ago, I started genuinely hating the guy. So, when he asked me to test you tonight, it actually gave me a good idea.”

He paused for a moment, and once again I felt my heart racing in anticipation. His usually confident expression had shifted into one of hesitation, and it did nothing to help calm my nerves. “Chris…” I started, trying to get him to continue. I watched as he took a deep breath before speaking once again. “Okay. I’m going to suggest something to you, but it’s only a suggestion. If you don’t want to do it, we can 100% pretend that this conversation never happened, and you can decide how you’re going to handle all of this in your own way.” I stayed silent, trying to wait as patiently as possible for him to get to his point.

“I think you should get back at him.” He said, finally. Still confused, I raised an eyebrow. “Get back at him? How?” I asked, to which he stayed silent. In his silence, I found my answer. “You think I should…with you?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded weak. He stayed silent, not granting me a response with words but the small glint in his blue eyes told me enough. “Do you really think that’s the most ethical option?” I asked, trying to use what little logic I had available in my brain fizzling not just from the alcohol now but from the very situation I was finding myself in.

He shrugged again. “I know guys like him. There’s no point in confronting him about it, because you know he’s just gonna lie to your face. And if you break up with him — which I hope you do, by the way — he’s really not going to care as much as he should.” Trying to ignore the twinge of hurt that his last point caused, I nodded slowly; beginning to understand. “But if you do him the way he’s been doing you, that’s gonna fuck him up. And the best part is he doesn’t even have any right to be pissed off, because all you’re doing is exactly what he’s been doing to you.” As he spoke, I nodded my head; absorbing everything he said and recognizing it as truth.

“I mean I get it but…don’t you think us doing it would be a bad idea?” I used my hand to gesture between us. “Considering him and I literally just fought about this very situation less than an hour ago?” His smirk returned at this. “That’s my point. No other scenario has the potential to hurt him the way that ours does. You want to get back at him? I’m your guy.” A laugh that sounded almost painful fell from my lips at this, but as his face suddenly grew serious, so did mine.

“Plus,” He began, closing the space between us so that our bodies were nearly touching. I stared at him, fallen completely mute, as he brought his thumb to my lower lip — brushing it ever so lightly against my pouted mouth — before he continued, “I haven’t stopped thinking about this mouth since you left me on the balcony that night.” His voice was nearly at a whisper, and it didn’t take anymore than that for my walls to crash down.

Without hesitation, I pressed my lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative, and gentle; our unsure mouths slowly moving against one another a physical representation of the wavering confidence in my decision. But the taste of his skin was addictive, and the feeling of his firm grasp on my waist caused my body to grow warm. So with each second, my cautious movements turned more and more desperate, and when his tongue brushed against my lower lip I opened my mouth to grant it entrance. I melted into his strong hands like putty, so when he lifted me by my ass with ease and placed me on the counter, my legs wrapped around his waist like they belonged there.

Each part of me he touched lit on fire in his trail, and as his mouth dropped lazily to my neck where he began nibbling and biting the thin skin below my ear, the very existence of Luke seemed to disappear from my thoughts — with only one word repeatedly crossing my mind: Chris, Chris, Chris.

With my spinning head, I almost didn’t notice myself being gently pushed back so that I was lying against the cold surface of the counter. Chris’ mouth was still sucking indulgently against my neck, but I felt his strong hands run up and down my bare legs; stopping just below the hemline of my shorts. I felt his hands begin to toy with my front button, and I removed my hands from the base of his curls to help him pull them down; desperate to feel his hands on my skin again.

Once the material of my shorts were dropped to the floor, I felt Chris tauntingly play with the lace of my underwear as his mouth slowly moved down my neck towards my chest. Wearing only a big t-shirt, I used my idle hands to pull the material up over my chest; exposing my breasts to Chris who immediately took one into his mouth. I moaned at the sensation of his warm tongue swirling around my nipple, and felt a dangerous shudder go down my spine once he groaned against my skin.

His hands were still flirting with my underwear, and the almost-but-not-quite contact with my core was making me go almost delirious, so in my impatience I grabbed his hand and pressed his long fingers against the place I needed him the most. The contact caused a moan to fall from my lips just as a pleased grunt fell from his. “So wet for me already, hmm?” His voice had dropped nearly a whole octave through his arousal, and his words caused even more heat to flood to my core.

In one quick motion, he slipped my thong down my legs and let it fall to the floor as his hand began exploring my slippery folds. A shocked moan burst through my lips from the relief of his touch finally against my bare heat, and as he began to rub circles into my clit, I began losing myself to the ripples of pleasure radiating from my centre down to my limbs.

His travelling mouth continued its journey from my tits down my stomach, leaving small kisses along the way. I watched in awe as his head descended along my body, feeling an unknown sensation of excitement from my view as he got closer and closer to where his fingers continued to work me. Once he reached the crest of my pelvis, he grabbed each of my legs and positioned them on his shoulders before leaning down and admiring my dripping core.

“W-what are you doing?” I asked, my voice shaking partially from nerves but mostly from the sheer adrenaline that was coursing through my veins. He dragged his eyes from my cunt up to meet my face and gave me a soft smile. “Gonna make you feel good. Is that okay with you?” His voice was still hoarse from arousal, but there was a playful tone in it that calmed my heaving chest. “Luke never…” I trailed off my sentence and his eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Never?” He asked, seeming to be completely shocked, and I shook my head. “He said he thinks it’s gross.” I confessed, suddenly feeling more exposed by my words than I had felt by my nakedness. At this, Chris’ eyes somehow darkened and softened simultaneously. “He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” He replied, bending down further so that he could place a soft kiss against my clit, “There’s nothing gross about this; about you.”

His words were said with such sincerity, such certainty, that I felt a small flutter in my chest. However, this feeling was abruptly interrupted by a much stronger feeling — a feeling of indescribable pleasure — once Chris attached his mouth to my clit. As he feverishly sucked and twirled his tongue expertly around my bundle of nerves, my vision became blurry and all I could see was a flash of bright light. When my vision returned, the sight before me caused the pleasure I was feeling to intensify so severely that, had my hips not been held firmly in place, I would have slipped to the floor as aimlessly as my underwear had just moments before.

There, right in the centre of my legs, was Chris. His generally messy curls even more disheveled than normal framing his face in the perfect way that it does; his already sharp cheekbones accentuated by his sucking; his bright pink lips wrapped tightly around me making me feel things I had never felt before; and his piercing blue eyes staring right up at me — seeming to take in every facial expression, every gasp, every moan that I made.

Overwhelmed, my hands flew to his hair where I held on for dear life; wanting to pull his mouth away but absolutely needing it to keep going. The build up of pressure in the pit of my stomach was almost too much to handle, and as I trembled around his face he maintained every ounce of pressure; every movement of his performed with expert precision. “C-Chris. Oh god!” I couldn’t stop myself from crying out, as the pleasure was causing my mind to scramble. “Just like that, please.” I heard myself continue, shocked even in the moment as I had never once said those words and truly meant it.

Chris released a soft moan against my core at my words, and the vibration from it was enough to get me to the point of no return. “Gonna c-cum, p-please don’t stop.” I begged desperately, and he didn’t. Like a machine, his movements never wavered — he never changed his rhythm, nor did he try any new tricks. The consistency of his swirling tongue threw me into a shocking tidal wave of pleasure, and with shaking legs and an arched back I practically screamed out his name over and over; riding out my high with no thoughts in my mind but him.

Only when my moans subsided and my grip on his hair loosened did Chris detach his mouth from my nerves before climbing back up my body. Once he reached my face, he placed a gentle kiss on my lips; the slightly sweet taste of my orgasm still coating his lips. “See,” He began, looking deep into my eyes, “Nothing gross about that. As a matter of fact, I could do that all day.” I felt my stomach do a flip and my core once again flood with a new wave of arousal from his words, and I allowed him to kiss me once more; this one much deeper than the last.

As we kissed, Chris helped me sit up, and then finally stand up on shaky legs. Once I was stable, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor with the rest of my clothing before doing the same with his own. With his top half now fully exposed, I allowed myself to take a moment to admire his body — his creamy smooth skin; slight muscle; sprinkle of hair below his belly button — as he started untying the drawstring on his pants.

He removed his pyjamas and boxers in one swift motion, and my eyes immediately fell to his hard member. Its size was otherworldly, and the veins that were wrapped around it caused my mouth to water. Mindlessly, I dropped to my knees in front of him and took his cock in my hand, pumping it a few times and relishing in the weight of it against my palm. I took a moment to glance up at him, and I found him staring down at me as his chest rose and fell rapidly; his eyes almost glazed over in arousal.

Turning my attention back to his member, I leaned forward and ran my tongue up his slit to collect the bead of pre-cum that had been gleaning in the light. As my tongue connected to his skin, I felt, more than heard, him intake a sharp breath. Eager to make him feel even a fraction as good as he made me feel, I attached my mouth to his tip and began bobbing my head up and down; swirling my tongue around the base of his tip as I did. Immediately, Chris’ hands found my hair and he began collecting it into a ponytail to pull it away from my face. Small moans left his mouth occasionally, and each time it did I felt my core grow wetter and wetter.

I brought my right hand up to the base of his shaft, where I began pumping it up and down in rhythm with my mouth. “Oh fuck.” He groaned out, gripping onto the countertop behind me with his free hand. With each bob of my head and pump of my hand, Chris released small grunts; and I relished in the fact that he was feeling so good because of me. I continued at the same pace, trying to stay focused on what I was doing, but his pleasure was adding to my pleasure, and I selfishly pulled away from him — his cock springing out of my mouth with a pop — and looked up at him through my eyelashes.

“Need more of you Chris.” I admitted, my arousal overtaking any urge I had to be coy in that moment. At my confession, Chris’ blue eyes darkened, and he didn’t hesitate before lifting me from the ground and pressing my back against the counter. His lips found mine once again, and the taste of both of our arousals melted into one as our tongues danced together; creating an addicting combination that made me ache.

A gasp fell from my lips as I was suddenly turned around, my bare chest now pressing against the cold stone counter. Chris had one hand pressed to the small of my back, where he rubbed small comforting circles as I felt his other hand guide the tip of his cock towards my opening. “You know,” Chris leaned forward towards my ear, “I always had a feeling that you wanted me too,” He let just the very tip of his member rest in my opening, “But if I knew you needed me the way I’ve been needing you, I would have fucked you much sooner.”

At that, Chris slid his cock into me, its girth stretching out my walls unforgivingly. Both of us released groans as he bottomed out, and he paused for a moment to allow me to adjust to his size as I fought against my trembling legs. After a brief moment, I felt Chris grab both of my hips before he began to thrust into me. His movements were slow and careful, as if he knew I was struggling to take his size. “You’re so tight baby.” He breathed, and I released a soft moan from his words.

He continued to move at a slow but deep pace, and with each thrust I felt my walls envelope his member with grateful acceptance. I started to feel my body relax more and more, and began to feel the earliest signs of pressure in my lower stomach once again. With each of his movements, I adjusted to him more, and I suddenly needed more. “Harder, please C-Chris.” I cried out softly, and without a moment’s hesitation he began to pick up the pace. Still driving his cock deep into me, his hips began to slam against mine at a much faster rate; causing my body to flood with even more arousal.

“You like that baby?” He asked through his grunts, and I was only able to moan in response; too fucked out to respond with words as I was constantly slammed against the countertop. The kitchen was flooded with the slick sounds of my arousal, and it was the perfect harmony to the verbal sounds of pleasure that fell from our tongues. I felt one of Chris’ hands snake up my back to the base of my neck before he grabbed a fistful of my hair; using his grip on it to pull me up off of the counter. With my back now pressed tightly against his front, he turned my head to the side so that — through blurry vision — I was able to see him and he was able to see me.

His glossed over eyes were focused on my o-shaped mouth, and he just stared at me for what felt like centuries as he continued to drive himself into me. The intensity of the moment was so startling that, if I wasn’t approaching my second orgasm of the night, I would have been brought back down to earth. But at that moment, a strong wave of pleasure shot through my body and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “You look so pretty, taking my cock so good Y/n. You feeling good?” I was barely able to nod my head in response as the pressure in my core began to feel overwhelming. “G-gonna cum again.” I managed to squeak out through high pitched moans that I hardly recognized as my own.

“Me too baby. Just hold on for me, wanna cum together.” His words were coming out strained just as mine were, and I felt his rhythm begin to grow choppier as his orgasm approached. Screwing my eyes shut, I fought against the raging urge to release all over him right then and there; wanting so badly to do what he said to do and wait for him. Luckily, it wasn’t long before I was interrupted from my focused state by a loud grunt behind me. “Fuck, gonna cum. Where do you want me Y/n?”

His words unraveled the last string of self-control I had, and I felt my legs begin to shake beneath me as I struggled to answer. “In m-me. Oh god, please.” I cried out just as my second orgasm tore through me; this one even stronger than the first. As the waves rolled through me and I released a plethora of guttural moans, I felt Chris’ hand on my jaw; grabbing my attention. As I opened my eyes to meet with his, I felt his movements stop almost entirely. His eyes had a far-away look and his jaw was clenched, but still he stared deep into my half-lidded eyes as I felt his member pulse deep in my core — painting my walls white with his cum.

Once all of our movements stopped and our breathing returned close to normal, I winced as he slowly pulled his length out of me. He turned me around gently, and I was met with a lazy smile and a soft kiss on my forehead. Still recovering, I was at a loss for words; and so we stayed silent as he first helped me get dressed and then dressed himself.

“Well,” He finally started, “Do you feel better?” I stared at him for a moment, confused by what he meant, before I at last remembered the events that had unfolded not long before. I released a soft chuckle as I reached for a nearby red solo cup to fill with water. “Would you think I’m a bad person if I told you that I actually forgot about the whole point of this until just now?” He laughed as I chugged the water before refilling the glass and handing it to him. “No, I wouldn’t. As a matter of fact I’d think that made this whole thing even better.” He replied before bringing the glass to his lips.

I laughed as I reached for my phone, turning it on and checking my notifications. “Oh shit.” My face fell and my stomach tied itself in a knot. “Luke texted me ten minutes ago saying that the club was a bust and he’s on his way back.” Even in my immediate panic, I scoffed. “That probably means she wasn’t working tonight, huh?” I felt Chris walk up behind me and peer over my shoulder at the text message. “You okay?” He placed a gentle hand on the small of my back, and I cursed myself once I felt my heart flutter at his comforting gesture. I nodded. “More than okay, honestly.” I turned around to face him, and before I could stop myself I reached up and kissed him softly. “But he’s gonna be back any minute, and we can’t be standing in the middle of the kitchen looking freshly fucked. Let’s move.”

𓆩♡𓆪

As promised, a few minutes later I heard the keys rattle at the front door — announcing Luke’s arrival. I was standing in the kitchen still — busying myself with washing the dirty glasses and wiping the sticky residue from the liquor, and possibly our cum, off of the counter — while Chris sat on the couch in the living room; pretending to be in the middle of a movie.

Once he walked through the door, Luke paused there a moment to take in the scene in front of him. He looked first at me, then at Chris; then me, then Chris. His expression was unreadable, like it usually was when he was drunk, and it did nothing to ease my racing heart. My mouth dried out, completely fearful that he knew exactly what had taken place just moments before right where I was standing. Did I have a hickey? Did the apartment smell like sex? Did my guilty face give it all away?

Finally, Luke moved from his place at the front door and walked right by me; heading directly for Chris on the couch. Still pretending to be busy drying and polishing the glassware, I secretly watched as they spoke to each other. With the tv still playing and their decision to speak in hushed tones, I was unable to hear what they were saying. But, I watched Chris as he shook his head no before Luke threw his hands up in exacerbation. They continued to speak to each other for a few more moments, Luke seeming to grow more and more upset and Chris maintaining his superb level of calm, before Luke finally mumbled “You fucking suck” and stormed away towards his room.

Once his door was shut with him safely behind it, my eyes immediately fell back to Chris, who was already staring at me with that cheeky smirk back on his face. Wanting desperately to know exactly what he said but too afraid to go over and speak to him about it, I stared desperately at Chris; hoping that he would give me some sort of inclination that all was good. Then, like he was reading my mind, he sent me a sharp wink. Immediately, my whole body relaxed and I released a deep breath that I hadn’t even known I was holding.

Test passed.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[freaksun]

eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt talked about her in a long time. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

[munson-blurbs]

Rockstar!Eddie x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Eddie's got a new girlfriend, which means you get put on the back burner indefinitely. But there's only so much you can take.

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, rockstar!Eddie, takes place around 1989, drinking/tipsiness, Eddie is an idiot, kinda insecure!Reader

--

Lena was beautiful. 

There was no denying that. You’d seen how beautiful she was the night Eddie had picked her from the crowd, dark makeup and denim miniskirt that ended mid-thigh. She walked backstage like she owned the place, with a confidence you could only envy from afar. 

You were used to it: Eddie would find a groupie, they’d hook up for the night, and then she was all but forgotten as Corroded Coffin moved to their next tour destination.

But not Lena. She’d been around for the last six months. Always touching Eddie, kissing him, drawing him in with her gorgeous eyes. She was everything he wanted, and she knew it.

You tried to get along with her and get to know her; after all, she was your best friend’s girlfriend. You asked her to grab a cup of coffee, to hang out at the mall, to get your nails done at the salon. All three times, she’d turned you down with some half-hearted excuse. 

And now she was here, at your birthday party. Her legs were draped over Eddie’s as they sat on the couch, his arm around her and her fingers in his hair. All you could focus on was his smile, that same dopey grin he used to give to Chrissy Cunningham whenever she’d give him an iota of attention back in high school. 

Eddie Munson was smitten, and he had no intention of hiding his feelings.

You downed your drink, the harsh taste of vodka burning your throat, and quickly poured yourself another one. What was the saying? It’s my party, and I’ll drink myself into a stupor if I want to? Something like that.

“Hey, Birthday Girl. You okay?” Gareth spoke up, yanking you from your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized he was beside you. “I haven’t seen you drink this much since the Grammys afterparty.”

You nodded, your head heavy with tears and liquor and lies. “Fine. Just…tired.”

Gareth scoffed. “Tired of watching Eddie and Lena tonguing each other, you mean?” Your wince betrayed your indifferent facade, and Gareth laughed softly. “Yeah, me, too.” He took a swig of his own drink and continued. “I mean, I get it. She’s hot as hell, but she’s also kinda–”

“Bitchy?” The word escaped you before you could stop it, another effect of the booze.

“You said it, not me.” Gareth raised his cup in a pseudo-toast. “But, yeah. Tour went from being about the band to being the Lena Show. And if you try to push back even a little, she just pouts and whines to Eddie that we’re being mean to her.”

You rolled your eyes. There was a freedom that came with confiding in Gareth, with no longer having to keep your feelings to yourself. “He used to call me at least once a week,” you say of Eddie, “and I figured that would change once he got a girlfriend. But the last time he called me was…two months ago.”

Could you even count that? It was just Eddie saying that the tour was good and that he’d be at your party–with Lena, of course. No silly stories from the road, no play-by-play of the shows, no begging for you to come see them again soon. It was as if you’d been a temporary placeholder until a better option came along.

And now, here she was, leaving red lipstick marks on his cheek. Staking her claim.

Eddie was never yours–not like that. Not in the way you wanted him to be yours. You’d been best friends since high school, and your crush had only blossomed from there. You were drawn to him the moment you saw him command the room during Hellfire, crafting and weaving a tale of a fantastical world with magnificent and terrifying creatures. It was as though you could see it right in front of you.

That storytelling talent extended to his songwriting. Sure, some of the songs were about the heartbreak that comes with being a teenager, but so many others were rooted in big problems: war, poverty, and the general injustices of the world. You were in awe of the way his eyes saw beyond the tiny borders of Hawkins.

Gareth slung an arm around you and pulled you close. Though you’d never told him about your crush on Eddie, he knew. All of Corroded Coffin knew—and probably all of the old Hellfire crew, too. Everyone but Eddie. 

“It’ll be okay,” Gareth murmured. “He’s an idiot. He’s always been an idiot, but with her, it’s amped up. Stupidity on steroids.”

You laughed at that despite the sadness brewing within you.

“Go enjoy your party. You deserve it.”

Heeding his advice, you pried yourself from the kitchen counter and over to some of the other guests. You managed to have fun, pushing away the nagging reminder of heartbreak just feet away. It got easier as the night went on—until it didn’t. 

“Baby,” you heard Lena whine. “This party sucks. I wanna go back to the hotel.”

Say no, you silently willed Eddie. Tell her that you want to stay. Tell her that she can leave, but you’re going to stick around and—

“Yeah, babe. We can go.”

Five words that anchored a pit in your stomach. He didn’t even consider an alternative option. Lena was his only priority. 

You blinked back the tears in your eyes as he said his half-hearted goodbye. Lena stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Super fun party,” she drawled, donning a saccharine smile. “So sorry we have to leave early.” With that, she grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him out of your apartment. 

The rest of the night was a blur. Even as you ate birthday cake and talked with other guests, your focus stayed on the remnants of your friendship with Eddie. Of course dynamics changed when friends got partners. But to be completely iced out? That couldn’t be normal. It shouldn’t be normal.

You decided that night that you were done. The friendship was already beyond repair. It wasn’t Lena’s fault, though it would be much easier to blame her and keep pretending that Eddie was still the same thoughtful guy from Hawkins High. No, Eddie was the problem, and the solution was letting him go.

Weeks went by, then months, with no word from Eddie. The first few days hurt, your heart still convinced that he’d call and apologize for bailing on the rest of your party. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ that might spark a flicker of hope.

It got easier after a while. You filled your days with work and friends. When you heard a Corroded Coffin song on the radio, you simply changed the station without tears falling. And when Entertainment Tonight declared that “a young woman previously linked to Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson was spotting cozying up to a more popular band’s lead singer,” you only chuckled and snapped off the TV.

The first call came a week later when you were at work. Your answering machine button flashed red, and you pressed play to hear the new message.

Hey, um, it’s me.

You froze, your blood icing over in your veins.

I know it’s been a while, but…a lot has happened. And I’ve been thinking, and I really wanna see you. Talk to you. I miss you. Um, the tour just finished, so I’ll be back in Hawkins. Let me know when you’re around.

Absolutely not. There was no way you’d talk to him again, and you finalized that decision by erasing the message.

But two days later, there was another one.

Hey, it’s me again. I was talking to Gareth, and he told me that I royally fucked up. Which I kinda knew, but hearing it from him…yeah.

Anyway, um, I don’t wanna just hang out–I mean, I do, but I wanna apologize first. In person, i-if that’s okay. I think my first message made it sound like, ‘Hey, let’s go grab a drink and bullshit around,’ but I want to say that I’m sorry. Shit, I’m rambling. Okay, I’m gonna go now. Bye.

And then another the day after that.

Okay, so, you don’t wanna meet up in person, and I get that. But I still want you to know how sorry I am, so I’ll just say it here, I guess. I never should have pushed you aside like that. I got caught up in everything with the band and the tour and…and her, and…y’know. That’s not an excuse or anything, just…explaining my series of fuck-ups. I miss you so much, and I wish we could just be friends again. I know it’s not that easy, but…fuck, I fucked this up. I’m really sorry, and you don’t have to forgive me–shit, Wayne’s home. I’ll talk to you later. Or, um, talk to your voicemail, I guess.

Wayne was home. That meant that Eddie was twenty minutes away from you, leaving voicemails from his uncle’s trailer. You grabbed your jacket, willing yourself to stay focused on the road as you drove to Forest Hills. That asshole wanted to talk to you in person, but couldn’t even stammer out a genuine apology over the phone?

You knocked on the trailer door so hard that your knuckles ached by the time Eddie opened it.

“Wha–did you get my messages?” His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you standing before him.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. ���You mean the ones with your half-assed apologies? Yeah, I got ‘em.”

Eddie took a step back. “No, no, I meant them. I really am sorry.”

“Convenient how you found time to be sorry once your girlfriend started fucking someone else,” you seethed. “Couldn’t squeeze out a minute to call after you ditched me on my birthday, but you’ve got plenty of time to grovel now.”

“That’s not–she wasn’t good for me,” he supplied lamely.

You couldn’t help the snort you let out. “What, did she hold the phone hostage? Did she pick you up and carry you out of my party? You,” you jabbed your forefinger into his chest, “are the reason we don’t talk. Not her.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” You snapped. “Because I have a feeling that you think this is on Lena. And maybe she didn’t help, but she certainly didn’t force you to be a shitty friend.”

Eddie rubbed his palm over his eyes. “I know,” he repeated, the frustration evident in his tone. “I…I was a shitty friend. I never should have left your party early, and I should’ve stayed in touch with you. I should’ve listened to the guys when they warned me that you wouldn’t keep putting up with my bullshit for much longer.”

You felt a spark of reassurance that the other band members had stood up for you, but you kept your attention on what you needed to say. What you needed him to hear.

“And now what? You’re back in Hawkins, no groupies around to keep you company, so you figure it’s a good time to reach out to me?” You stepped closer to him as you spoke. “I’m not your back-up plan when your life comes crashing down. I’m a goddamn person, Eddie! And you just threw me away like our friendship meant nothing to you.”

He was silent for a few moments, his sweat sock-covered foot grinding into the carpet. His hair fell in front of his face, but you could still see him chewing on the inside of his cheek as he considered his next words.

“Gareth told me…he told me that you liked me,” Eddie said softly. “Like…more than just a friend.” With trepidation, he looked into your eyes, tears forming in his own. “And he said I’m an idiot for not seeing what was in front of my face the whole time. A really beautiful woman who has always been there for me. Who never gave up on me, whether I was playing to five drunks at the Hideout or to sold-out stadium crowds.”

“Right. All of the things I’ve done for you. But what have you done for me? How have you been my friend?” You waited for him to respond, but he said nothing. “Exactly. I was just a groupie you never fucked.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of pride wash over you at his utter shock. “I’m–”

“I know you’re sorry. I got it.” You pivoted on one heel and turned your back to him, starting towards your car. Before you got there, you called out over your shoulder. “And if you leave me another pathetic voicemail, I’ll throw my answering machine through your window.”

Then you drove off, leaving him standing where you left him, just as alone as you’d felt all this time.

--

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Burn Out

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.

“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”

The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.

“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”

You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!

“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”

“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”

…

“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.

“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.

“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”

You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.

…

You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.

As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.

Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.

There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.

“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.

It was going to be a long day.

…

You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.

“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.

You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.

Dean: Where r u?

So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.

“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”

“But I was just—“

“Your phone, please.”

You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.

“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”

…

You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—

“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”

—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—

“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.

“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.

“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”

“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.

“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”

You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.

And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.

…

You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.

When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.

You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.

“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…

You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.

“Sam! She’s here!”

Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.

“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Dean, I—“

Dean wasn’t listening.

“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.

“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”

You ran past Dean, heading for the library.

“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.

He had enough of a mess to fix already.

…

No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.

After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.

“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.

“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“

You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.

“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”

You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.

“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“

“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”

“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.

“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“

“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”

“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”

You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”

“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”

“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”

You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.

“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[torialefay]

Do You Want to Try?

daddy!chan x virgin!reader smut 🔞

✨synopsis: chan makes sure you feel comfortable during your first time <3

✨request from: @whatudowhennooneseesyou

✨ word count: ~3.4k

✨warnings: this is literally just smut, so minors dni; uses nicknames like daddy and babygirl, but this is NOT meant to in any way mirror a DD/LG scenario… absolutely no age play here

• “Do you want to try?” Chan asked, watching you wiggle on the bed, his eyes growing big.

~

~

• The two of you had been together for a couple of months. With Chan being the gentleman he is, he never explicitly brought up sex, although you could tell he wanted to.

• You weren’t oblivious to the way he would creep his hand up your thigh and hold it there, right on the inside. Sometimes he would lightly squeeze and pretend he wasn’t watching you to gage your reaction.

• Sometimes he would go as far as to walk up behind you while you were in the kitchen cooking, holding onto you from behind and pressing his growing boner against you.

• You knew what he wanted, but you also knew he’d never explicitly bring it up unless you gave him some sort of a signal.

• What Chan didn’t know is that you were a virgin.

• Were you embarrassed? Maybe a little. You knew you didn’t need to be. Chan would never judge you for something like that… And it wasn’t like he didn’t have his sneaking suspicions about it.

• He knew he made you red and nervous when he would act up around you. He thought it was way too cute. It honestly made him want to get you flustered even more. Teasing you and making subtle remarks with the tiniest hints of want in them.

• But you’d still never said it aloud. Until one day, you couldn’t help it.

• STAYs thirsted over Channie like none other. You didn’t mind it much because… hey, he’s the hottest thing ever. But after reading one post in particular, you got a bit of inspiration. It started to make you think… What if Chan really didn’t mind? What if he could show you the ropes.

• The thread was talking about Chan being into the “daddy” kink, and how he’d be very dominant but loving. It got you thinking if it was really true. And the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to test it. You couldn’t help but get a little wet thinking about him getting horny for you anyways.

• So you decided to try your best to push the nerves beside you and let yourself try something new.

• When Chan came home, you’d been waiting for him in the bedroom. Normally, you’d have been in the kitchen or the living room, so he didn’t expect to find you here. He especially didn’t expect you to be sitting on the bed as soon as he stepped in the door, pulling for his hand to bring him closer to you.

• “Channie, can you sit with me for a second?” you asked as you pulled him right to you. A look of worry spread across his face. Instead of sitting on the bed next to you, he opted to kneel right in front of you on the floor so his face could be right in front of yours.

• “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked.

• “I need to tell you something. It’s something I should have talked to you about a long time ago, but I was embarrassed.”

• “Alright, what is it?”

• “Well, I… Well you probably already figured it out, but I’ve never really had sex before…” you looked toward the corner of the room, too nervous to make eye contact with him. “And I just want you to know that I’ve been picking up on your signals, but I’ve just never done anything like that before and I really don’t know what I’m doing. Or even where to start.”

• Chan squeezed your hand, and stroked around it with his thumb, signaling for you to look back at him.

• “Do you want to try?” Chan asked, watching you wiggle on the bed, his eyes growing big.

• “I think so… I think you’d make me feel comfortable. If you’ll walk me through it?” you got the courage to say.

• Chan took your face in his hands. “Of course I will, sweetheart.” He planted a kiss to your cheek.

• As he backed his face up, he grinned.

• “And Channie, one more thing?”

• “Yes?” He leaned back until he was situated again kneeling on the ground.

• “Would you like it if I called you Daddy?”

• He smiled for a split second, not believing what he’d just heard.

• “Oh baby girl,” he said, lifting himself to his feet. He gently pushed you down so you were laying on the bed. “You don’t even know,” he smiled and threw his body down next to you. He moved himself closer into you so he could kiss your neck.

• This, you were used to. Things had gotten steamy before, but it never led past kissing. This you knew you could do well. You laid back and enjoyed the sensation of his lips connected to your neck.

• “Alright baby, I’m gonna move my hands around you a little bit. If there’s something you don’t like, you let me know and we’ll stop, okay?” He breathed out.

• Getting bolder now, knowing he was thoroughly enjoying giving this new experience to you, you replied back. “Yes daddy.”

• Chan must have really liked that, responding by biting down into your neck. The pain was there, but it was more pleasure than anything. You loved the way it felt.

• Chan slowly moved his hands along your body. Starting at your waist, he traced up and down your hips as he leaned up to join his lips with yours. He crept his hands slowly along the outline of your body until they were resting lightly over your boobs. He gave one a light squeeze and waited for your response.

• You let out a tiny moan, encouraging him to give you more. It felt good to have him massage you so gently. You always thought of sex as something to be nervous about, but maybe with Chan’s it would just be something to focus on making you feel taken care of.

• You felt as Chan started massaging harder and squeezing around, moving to the other breast.

• “Is it okay if I go under your shirt baby?” He asked.

• You nodded in response, not sure if you could really form sentences during this yet.

• He snaked his hand underneath the fabric and let it slide up your stomach until he reached the top of your bra. Scooping his hand around the top and under your boob, he gently moved the fabric of the bra to the side, exposing your breast slightly.

• Not daring to move his lips off of yours again, he slowly moved his fingers around your nipple, letting it get hard from the sensation. And you had to admit, it felt damn good. Slowly, he worked his way up to rubbing harder before taking it in between his fingers and rolling it around. You moaned at how good the pressure felt. You felt Chan smile, breaking the kiss.

• As he moved his hand to begin on the other breast, he moved his head to rest beside yours.

• “Daddy wants to watch you now, okay? I need to see your pretty face to make sure you like it.”

• “Okay,” you got out sheepishly. Suddenly, you felt a bit self-conscious knowing that Chan was going to be watching your every move. You tried to sink down into the mattress to ignore it and instead focus on the feeling of Chan on your other breast. He rubbed and pinched and rolled his fingers around under you were writhing underneath him.

• He let out a small chuckle at how cute you looked. “Feel good baby?”

• “Yes daddy.”

• “How about we get these clothes off of you? I’ll be careful and we’ll go slow, okay?”

• You nodded in agreeance. Chan took that as his cue to raise himself up off the bed and take his time with lifting your shirt off of you. He took special care as he reached around you to unclasp your bra at the back, digging his hands into the mattress to get there and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want you to have to lift a finger.

• He slid your pants down and off of you, hooking your underwear as well so that they went with the rest.

• You felt so exposed like this. Completely naked in front of someone for the first time. It was scary, and Chan could pick up on that feeling.

• “Don’t be nervous baby, you are so so beautiful,” he said, sliding his body back to lie down next to yours. One arm held him propped up on an elbow, leaving the other to rub up and down your body.

• “Can daddy move down lower now?” He asked, once he’d settled in right next to your ear, planting small kisses to the outside of it.

• “Mmhmm,” you managed to get out.

• Chan walked his hand down to your pussy, making sure to massage all around the area before focusing in on your middle. Once he got there, he stopped himself. “This is going to make you feel good, okay? I need you to tell me when it starts feeling good, and I’ll keep doing that. Got it?”

• You writhed underneath him in anticipation. “Got it.”

• “Good girl,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your earlobe. He let a couple of fingers work themselves between your folds, admiring quickly how wet you were for him.

• “Do you feel how wet you are? That’s so good honey. I’m so proud of you.”

• You blushed in response, focusing on the feeling of his finger tips.

• He worked them slowly to where he felt your clit. You jumped a little at the sudden sensitive feeling, not knowing how to respond.

• Chan chuckled. “That’s supposed to be the part that makes you feel good. Daddy’s gonna go slow, and you should start to feel it.” He didn’t ask for permission now.

• He slowly started to move his fingers up and down over your clit. You felt your breath hitch. He continued for a little while before beginning to rub small circles around it, sending you into overdrive. Your breath started to quicken.

• “Oh good girl,” he cooed down at you. “So that’s what you like, huh?” He beamed. “Does that feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

• “It feels so good Channie.”

• “Perfect,” he smiled into you. “Daddy’s gonna move down there to get a taste, okay? I promise I won’t stop making it feel good.”

• Chan continued to rub you in just the same way until he slid himself down to where his face was hovering just over your pussy. With his tongue stuck out, he made his way in, licking up and down the folds at first. He then moved to your clit, taking over his previous motions to begin with his tongue. He felt you jolt up slightly at the new feeling, letting out a slight moan in the process.

• He hummed into you in response, the vibrations making you feel a new sensation. You suddenly didn’t know why you’d been scared to tell him for so long. Feeling him wrap his tongue up in you was the most loving, erotic sensation you’d ever felt. And god, if it didn’t make you feel like the most special person in the world.

• “Keep your eyes on daddy,” Chan said. He wasn’t mean, but you knew better than to argue him. As you looked down, you almost came immediately at the sight. His curls were tousled in every direction as his hands splayed across your hips, holding you down into him.

• When his eyes came up to connect with yours, you wanted to jump out of your skin. The look on his face of watching you, knowing how good he was making you feel was overstimulating. He kept circling your clit at just the right pace. You were sure you were going to go over the edge any second.

• Your breathing started to pick up and you felt a twitch down your leg.

• Chan brought a finger up to push inside of you slowly, wanting to give you a tiny bit more stimulation. You could feel the small extra pressure it gave to you, and coupled with how sensitive you were, you were doing everything you could to hold on. It just felt too fucking good. You felt yourself lose all thoughts and begin to drift off.

• Chan disconnected his lips from your cunt for a single moment. “Cum for daddy, baby,” he instructed before going right back to his tiny circles on your clit. Looking at his face and hearing his demand was the last thing you needed to reach your climax. Your hands flew down to his hair to hold onto his head as your legs began to twitch around him and the warm feeling spread out from your clit to the rest of your body. You suddenly started to convulse around him, moaning out for him with every last breath. You couldn’t control yourself as Chan kept lapping at you, holding your hips down to make sure you didn’t miss out on any feeling of the pleasure he could give you.

• Once he was satisfied that you were done, he lifted his face from you and raised his body up until he was resting on his knees. He smiled down at you and how out of it you looked.

• “Mmm did that make you feel good, sweetheart?” He smiled, rubbing and massaging along your thighs. You didn’t even know how to respond to that considering the way he just made you feel. You just nodded your head and smiled, moving your arms to stretch them out over your head and then cover your face in slight embarrassment.

• “How about you let daddy stretch you out a little now?” He asked, already bringing his dick to your entrance to move it around against the wetness of your lips. “Come on, don’t cover that beautiful face. Let me see you.”

• You moved your hands and arms away from your face and brought them together, clasping to each other on your chest. Chan just smiled down, admiring how cute you looked for him.

• “That’s more like it… Now, I’m gonna start slow okay? You’ll let me know if it starts to hurt or if I’m going to fast?”

• “Yes…” you whispered out, not knowing if you were really ready or not.

• “Yes what?” he peered down, stern look now on his face.

• “Yes daddy.”

• With that, he slowly began to inch himself into you. One hand resting on your thigh, the other rested just at the underside of his dick to stabilize himself as he entered. He watched intently as your pussy slowly started to open up for him, making sure to go as slowly as he possibly could. Then he made sure to go back and fixate on your face, now with furrowed brows and lips parted open.

• He continued in silence until he was all the way in, letting himself rest inside for just a moment. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” he huffed out, throwing his head back. “I feel like if I start moving, I’m going to tear you apart.”

• He slowly moved himself back, centimeter by centimeter until he was pulled out of you, then slowly pushing back in. He continued this a couple more times until he could tell you were more comfortable. The look on your face had changed from uncertainty to one of actual pleasure. He could tell.

• “You’re taking me so well baby. I knew you’d be a good girl for me.” He finally let himself pull all the way back before ramming into you.

• You let out a loud moan in response, which only agged Chan on more.

• He started to thrust again, faster this time. “Oh, is that how my girl likes it? You like it like that, huh?”

• “Yes, Channie,” you moaned.

• “Ah ah ah,” he stopped pumping for a second.

• “I mean, yes daddy!” you breathed out again.

• With that, Chan picked back up, bringing himself in and out of you with a steadily quickening pace. You could tell he was getting worked up the more he pumped.

• He started to hump into it, more than just strokes now. He was getting deeper into you. You let out a rattling sigh at how good it felt.

• Something almost animalistic came over Chan. He almost looked like he wanted to consume you. His jaw locked and his eyes fixated on your face before spitting out at you every last thought he had in his mind.

• "You like it when your daddy fucks you like this, don’t you? You like letting daddy ruin you for anyone else. Being my good little perfect girl. So good for me, letting me fuck you however I want. You don’t want daddy to stop, do you?”

• At that, Chan started to pound into you, getting relentless now. His face was focused, almost looking mad. He hit the spot that you now knew would be the end of you. He kept hitting it and hitting it until you knew you weren’t going to be able to take it anymore.

• “No, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you panted out. “Please don’t stop. It feels so good,” you were about to cry at this point, not recognizing this feeling. The feeling of breathlessness and pressure, building up, slowly working you to a point you weren’t yet familiar with.

• Chan began to moan violently, forcing himself into you with no remorse. He violently held onto your hips, slamming them down into him as he fucked you. He was going to make sure you felt all of them.

• “So good and tight… God.. FUCK,” he yelled, throwing his head back. He slammed himself in. “Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum.. Don’t give into me yet. You can take it. Keep fucking taking it.” He fucked himself into your as hard and fast as he could, bottoming out every time. He hit way up into your cervix and for a moment, you thought you might pass out.

• “Fucking take it, princess. Fucking take me,” he yelled, not able to stop himself.

• “Yes daddy,” you replied back, borderline crying now. He was just too good. It was all way too good.

• Hearing your new name for him was the last thing he needed. “I’m cumming... Fuck I’m cumming. Holy shit,” Chan quickly pulled himself out of you, quickly jerking his dick back and forth as cum shot out of him and onto your stomach. "Fuckkkkkkk." He couldn’t help but moan the entire time, looking at how pretty you looked with his cum all over you.

• You winced underneath him, never having seen this sight before. This was the hottest you’d ever seen him. And to think, he was doing all of this over you.

• He stroked himself up and down until every last drop of cum was out, growling at the last few drops.

• “Shit baby, hold on just a second,” he said, once he’d finally caught his breath.

• He took a few steps to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth to clean you off with.

• As you also had finished catching your breath, he came back up to lay himself beside you, bringing the covers up with him. He raised your head up to extend his arm underneath, and then rested it back on top of him so that you were propped up into him.

• “I’m sorry baby, I should have asked you before doing all of that at the end. I don’t know what came over me. Was it okay? Did it feel okay?”

• You took a few seconds to look into his eyes, suddenly full of love and worry.

• “It was perfect Channie. You were perfect.” You smiled at him. He shot you a huge smile back, nuzzling his head into yours and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

• “I’m so glad. You were perfect for me too. I’m so honored I could be your first.”

• You thought your heart would explode from how much love you felt for this man.

• After giving you another kiss on the cheek and lying his head down to rest on top of yours, he whispered into you. “And hopefully I’m going to be your last too.”

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[onlyrains]

𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂 thing | 𝓵𝓱𝓼

relationship is scary; what if your partner is too tall for you to kiss them?

“morning…?” you greeted confusedly at your boyfriend in your kitchen when you just freshly out of a shower.

“morning—you finished already?” his wide back still facing you, unbothered.

yesterday, he called and said he was gonna take you two to have brunch somewhere. but here he was, busy in your kitchen with sleeves rolled up to his firm elbow.

a chopping sound filled the room as you approached him. “aren’t we going somewhere, hee?”

he dropped his knife and spun quickly. “god, ’m sorry, i forgot to tell you. it's just… i watched some recipe videos last night and i think i’m going to try that out today…” his voice disappeared at the end. “is it okay…?”

you gasped. “seriously?” you were genuinely surprised. he was never show an interest in cooking before and preferred to just take a delivery or going out if you both were feeling it.

so today was the first time and you believed it will be written in history.

you glanced at his scattered groceries on the counter. “it is okay, boo. it's even better that you are one who cooks for me. wow.” you give him a wide smile then cupped his face.

he scratched his head, flustered when his favorite pet name came out. “we still could go if this fail, you know. i’m not sure either,”

you chuckled. “have some trust in yourself, can't you?” you tiptoed, tried to give him a peck on the lips but you kissed his chin instead.

you couldn’t reach his lips. that was a new fact for you too. you just realized he was always crouched down or the one who initiate a kiss. you almost hit your own head, couldn’t believe you missed such a crucial thing in your relationship.

he was laughing his ass off when he saw you pout and refused to see his face by hiding it on his chest, embarrassed.

still chuckling, he hugged you and rubbed your back, assuring. “it's okay, baby. it's cute.” actually, he also just noticed how your height just fell around his chest, not even his neck, not even his shoulder.

how could he not noticed his dear girlfriend is so tiny? well, he knew you were smaller than him, but he didn't know that you were basically tiny? even when he hugged you like now, your figure was completely disappear in his body. how could he not noticed that earlier? oh, maybe because he was too busy control his composure everytime he's around you, right?

“don’t mock me.” you mumbled.

“eh? i’m not? why do i have to mock about it? it's so cute, baby, trust me i love it.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “i can't. you can be childish—”

“says a child—AW! baby, your pinches is someth—”

“but i’m not a child!” you sulked.

“okay, okay.” he grabbed both of your hands in his. “from now on, i’m going to love you like my own child, baby.” he kissed top of your head ran around the kitchen as you chased him.

he was glad he canceled the plans for brunch at a fancy restaurant he found a few days ago. otherwise, he wouldn’t been able to enjoy this stupid moment with you after a week of non-stop working. he was thankful your laugh could literally heal his mind and soul to stay sane.

the brunch he promised was still happened tho it would be more realistic to call it a lunch. thanks to him for always bring your height up every chance he got. don’t get it wrong tho, it wasn’t a bad thing. he loved it, he really did.

it gave him an instant ego boost whenever he noticed you need to looking up fully when you look into his eyes. even sometimes, it made him thinking about the other thing that might put him in an advantageous position.

you were still sat in your dining table when he suddenly towering you after doing the dishes.

you tilted your head with anticipation. “what?”

“nothing.” a smug smile appeared on his lips.

“still haven't giving up?” you asked then stood up on your chair. now you were the one towering him. “what now?”

he wrapped his arms in your waist. “it's nothing, really.”

you rested your hand on his shoulder and finally pecked his lips in a sudden move. you felt his arms tensed up in your waist.

“baby, that's dangerous, y'know.” he whined, his voice low.

you smirked. maybe you both have a same thought today.

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