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#I’m being too embarrassing on the internet again
mothmothwoth · 3 months
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Guys. Guys- you ever think about how the leitmotif in Newsies of the four little twinkle notes that play right before “just be real is all I’m asking, not some painting in my head. Cause I’m dead, if I can’t count on you today” in ‘Santa Fe’ and at the beginning of ‘I Never Planned on You’ and of course in all of ‘Santa Fe (Prologue)’ show the real Jack. Like Jack is defined as a character of posturing, a leader, someone who puts on fronts of confidence and maturity because he has to be and these are all the moments he is quiet. He is embracing his childishness, his vulnerability, what makes up the person behind “the famous Jack Kelly”. HE HAS FOUR LITTLE NOTES OF HOPE LEFT, HIS DREAMS ARE DELICATE AND ANTICIPATORY. CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? DOES ANYONE CARR ABOUT MY NEWSIES ANALYSIS AND THOUGHTS.
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wallflowerglitter · 2 months
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Anyway dreams always make you miss people you can’t call. Probably gonna be melancholy for a few days at least but my cat laid down above my head on the couch which he NEVER does and I’ve decided to soothe my heart with kimchi fried rice and while you were sleeping.
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
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<<Prev Next>>
Nerdy!Miguel who catches you later calling out to your name.
Nerdy!Miguel that doesn’t know why you’ve been ignoring him, why he could never find you at your usual spots or why you would look at him that way—if at all.
Nerdy!Miguel who gets frustrated and grabs your arm to stop you.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“What’s wrong?” You repeat back, looking over your shoulder, your eyes piercing through him. It makes him shiver in a bad way, like ice cold water being poured over his body. “Are you serious?”
Miguel doesn’t move when you rip your arm off him and turn away. He does move once you’re a few feet away from him. He chases after you, going in front of you and blocking your path.
“I am! I’m serious! I haven’t seen you in days. I was worried something…something might’ve happened to you…?”
“I don’t wanna talk to you, Miguel.” You try to move but he doesn’t let you.
“No! I want to know!” Miguel asks in desperation. Why are you acting like this? “Why are you acting like I’ve done something wrong? Why are you being such a bitch?” Miguel gasps and covers his mouth with both of his hands.
You look up with wide and angry eyes. Pursing your lips and sealing the hurt in your heart, you shove him to the side. Normally, a little push from you would barely move him. But Miguel felt so numb that his body felt light and he was forcefully moved away from you.
He calls out to you but you’re already picking up the pace. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to call you that! I just—I’m worried about you! I-I miss you! You were the only one I talked to all the time so I notice when you’re gone and I—“
“Oh, so now you notice? Thought your new friends kept you company.” You growl, staring straight ahead.
“New friends? I don’t have any friends—it’s just—“ He didn’t want to admit it. He was embarrassed at himself. He was embarrassed how much he listened to the internet, to those stupid guys with the mics, to the stupid advice he thought would make you fall in love with him.
He stops suddenly as the realization sets in.
He was trying to make you fall for him. Forcing you. Or at least he tried to. Instead it backfired and it made you hate him.
Miguel watches as you walk away from him, footsteps heavy in anger. He curls in on himself, reverting back to the shy and nerdy guy he always was. He looks down at himself to see the brand new clothes that were too tight for his liking, made with uncomfortable fabric and he could feel the gel weighing heavy in his hair.
This wasn’t him and it wasn’t even worth it in the end. He pushes what he learned away from him and decides that his next step should be apologizing, whether you accepted him or not. What mattered most right now was you and if you never wanted to see him again, then he’d do it. For you this time.
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leaentries · 3 months
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through it all | luke hughes
summary: when the comments start getting to her, luke is there to show his girl he'll be there through it all.
warnings: rude comments, body shaming, fat shaming, angst (w/ a happy ending), swearing
wc: forgot to keep track but a lot
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The constant ticking of the clock seemed to mock you, counting away the time wasted reading those insufferable words. You typically veered away from the comment section altogether, but something about the empty apartment weakened your resolve. 
Being away on a roadie, Luke didn’t understand the trouble that plagued your mind. He always made sure to make you feel like the only girl in the world, so why was it that as soon as he leaves, you fall apart? He didn’t understand how the words of others held so much power over you, how they held you hostage. 
You sat, legs tucked under you, holding your phone with shaky hands. Something in you had hoped for better. Maybe people changed their views about you and everything that came with. Maybe you could finally open social media without the constant fear of ridicule. Yet, you were proved wrong once again. The comments hadn’t changed and neither did the way your throat contracted in disgust and embarrassment.
User4562: still can’t believe luke would date someone like her
Fan93: get this whale outta here pls 
Hater365: luke is so much hotter then her?? shes not even pretty??
User67:  this is kinda embarrassing for her tbh
Fan42: girl needs to learn what the gym is asap
Hater6783: pretty sure her thighs are bigger than his…
User3421: comments did not disappoint💀
Hot tears filled your eyes as the negativity swarmed your senses. How could people be so cruel? Deep sobs wracked through your body as you let your phone fall to the couch. You grabbed the nearest pillow, pulling it into your chest.
You felt suffocated. The weight of being in the spotlight and the tense wave of hate was too much. You couldn’t fully understand why people were so bothered by your appearance or the fact that Luke had chosen you.
Though, in all fairness, you couldn’t grasp why Luke chose you, either. He had a roster of beautiful, fit women at his beck and call, yet he was bouncing his way home to you every night. No matter how many times he expressed his love, it was too big for you to comprehend.
So, there you sat, mascara running down your face, sobbing into a throw pillow because random people on the internet decided you weren’t good enough.
❥.
You must have fallen asleep at some point through your cries, because as your swollen eyes managed to peek open, you noticed the sunlight beginning to shine through your living room curtains. For a peaceful moment, you forgot the previous night’s turmoil. You let yourself fully wake up, slowly sitting to adjust to your surroundings.
Confusion plagued you as you realized you were on the couch. Your face fell with gloom as reality hit you like a truck. Swarms of comments flashed in your mind once more, diminishing any energy you had for the day.
Although, as you slumped back into the cushions, you heard the front door unlock.
Shit.
You grabbed your phone to check the time, only to be met with a black screen. Your phone must have died during the night, rendering your alarm to go pick up Luke, pointless. Standing from the couch, you rush to the kitchen to make yourself look busy.
Luke swung the door open, trudging in with all his bags.
“Hey angel, I thought you were picking me up?” He chuckled, “You’re lucky Dawson lives in our complex, or I would have been stranded.”
“Yeah-” You cleared your throat trying to will away the tightness, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Lukey. My phone died last night.”
Luke shook his head at your forgetfulness. He quickly set down his bags by the kitchen table, noticing the state of the living room.
His brows furrowed, “Did you sleep in the living room last night?”
Panic flooded deep in your stomach. You should have known Luke would get suspicious. After all, he knew how picky you were about where you slept.
Scrambling for a lie, you responded with a quick, “I was watching a movie and fell asleep.”
Luke walked over to where you busied yourself by cleaning the leftover dishes. You sucked in a breath, hoping you didn’t appear too disheveled. Ducking your head closer to your chest, you tried to look anywhere else but Luke’s face as he took to the spot next to you.
“Y/n?” Luke’s voice came in a soft whisper.
When he didn’t get a response, he gently reached to grab the faucet handle, turning it till the water trickled to a halt. Grabbing the dish towel nearby, he also helped dry your hands while you sat limply.
In truth, you were too afraid to speak, or move. You were afraid that if you looked into Luke’s sorrowful eyes, you’d crack. You’d finally show the version of yourself that the internet sees, the version that he’d hate.
Luke set down the towel, his eyes seeking your downcast face. “Y/n, baby? Please talk to me.”
You shook your head slightly, pulling away as his hand brushed up your arm.
“D-did I do something?” Luke began to worry, he’s never seen you act like this, “Was I gone too long? I thought we facetimed enough, but I can try to call you more.”
It broke your heart to hear him. The simple fact that he assumed it was himself and wanted to fix it. He was too good for you, the internet saw it, you saw it. So naturally, it was only a matter of time before he did too.
“No,” You let out a deep sigh, “It’s not you, Luke.”
He swallowed thickly, nerves beginning to take over his senses. “Then what is it, angel? Please, I just want to help you.”
Hot tears blurred in your eyes, he finally broke your resolve.
Luke immediately pulled you into his chest, his calloused hands moving to cradle the back of your head as you sobbed. He was at a loss. Not knowing what the correct thing to do was, he held you tighter. Luke was prepared to hold you forever if it meant you’d stop crying. He could swear a piece of his heart dies every time he sees you cry.
“Shh, shh,” He soothed as he stoked your hair, “Angel, it’s okay. I promise, I’m here.”
You gripped his hoodie, scared he’d disappear from under your fingertips.
The both of you remained in each other’s embrace until you found your breath regulating. Pulling away, you swore Luke winced when he saw your bloodshot, puffy eyes.
“C’mon, let’s go to the couch.” He guided you carefully, making sure to help you get comfortable enough to talk to him. Once you had settled into his side, he finally nudged you to start talking.
“If you’re ready, will you tell me what’s wrong, baby?”
Deciding to go against your gut will to hide the truth, you pulled out your phone, now freshly charged. You shakily opened up your social media, hitting into the comment section.
“Here,” You placed the phone into Luke’s hand, “Just scroll.”
Upon beginning to read the first few comments, you could see Luke’s face visibly grow stern and frustrated. He bit the inside of his cheek as angry tears welled in his eyes. Luke felt every muscle in his body tense with hatred and fury towards the lowlifes that would dare to say such vile things about his girlfriend.
He shut the phone off and tossed it away, not being able to handle reading another word of the electric slander on your screen.
It took a moment for Luke to compose himself, taking deep breaths and debating on how to approach the situation.
Now, of course Luke had grown used to people writing heavily opinionated articles and hate comments about him. Hell, he even got used to seeing it about his brothers. But something he never considered was the impact it would have on you.
“I’m sorry.”
Your eyes shot up at Luke’s apology.
Why is he apologizing?
He had his head down, fingers picking at each other. He looked guilty, as if, somehow, he caused all of this to happen.
“What?”
Luke wouldn’t meet your eyes.
“I’m sorry, this is my fault.”
You shook your head sternly, “No it’s not, Luke. It’s mine” Your voice went quiet.
Luke slowly looked up to see fresh tears cascading in taunting rivers down your cheeks.
“It’s my fault for being not good enough.”
He tried to protest, but was only silenced by your words.
“It’s so hard trying to be perfect all the time. Especially when all I’m getting is ridicule for living my life. It’s not fair that I have to have my head on a constant swivel because some person decided my body wasn’t up to standard. It’s not fair that I have to wake up, everyday, worried you’ll realize you deserve so much more than me.”
Luke’s own tears rolled down his face at your confession. He couldn’t quite get a handle on how long you have felt this way.
His beautiful girl.
His heart shattered, “I- I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand, Luke.” You interrupted, “It’s just the way it is. People who look like you don’t love people who look like me.”
His face grew grim.
“No, Y/n. What I don’t understand is how you can think like that. I mean, fuck, don’t you realize you’re every thought I have before bed. And every breath of air I breathe when I wake up. I don’t know who these “people” are that you’re referring to, but I’m not one of them.”
Luke took your face in his hands, “You are my girl. And if I have to spend the rest of our lives proving that to you, then I will.”
There wasn’t much you could say through the thickness of emotion. You threw your arms around Luke, his own coming to dig into your plushy hips.
“Thank you, Lukey.” You mumbled into his neck.
“For what?”
“For loving me.”
“Always.”
Maybe you were enough for him.
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Note
Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!
Confidence
Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.
When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".
No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.
He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.
Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.
The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.
Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.
Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.
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Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.
He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.
"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.
"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"
Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."
The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"
Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.
"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."
"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".
"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."
Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.
"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"
Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.
"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."
Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".
Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"
Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.
A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.
"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."
A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."
Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"
With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.
Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?
A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.
Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?
He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.
When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.
The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?
Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?
Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.
An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.
When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.
"Hello, Nathan!"
"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.
"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.
"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.
"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"
"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.
"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.
"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."
"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"
Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.
After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"
Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"
The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.
Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.
"Damn, it's that late already?"
"What is it?", asked Nathan.
"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"
Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.
"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."
Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.
"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"
Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.
"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.
"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"
"Sure!"
Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.
"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.
Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.
When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.
Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.
It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.
Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.
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Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.
Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.
Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.
He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.
Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.
His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.
Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.
Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.
The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.
During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.
Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.
After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"
Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.
So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."
Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"
Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"
The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.
Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.
There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"
"I would love that!"
They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.
When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.
As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.
Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!
When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.
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Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.
After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!
His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.
None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.
Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.
The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.
Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.
At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.
They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.
The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.
"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.
"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."
"You're not driving, are you?"
"Na, I'm here on foot."
Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."
There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.
"Sounds great!"
A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.
"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."
"Oh. Thanks."
Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."
"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.
"Yeah. Fits better, you know."
"I guess so. I like it a lot!"
"I like your style, too."
"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.
"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."
"Why, thank you!"
The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.
Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.
They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.
"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."
When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.
"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."
While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.
"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."
Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.
"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"
"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"
Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"
"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"
Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."
Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"
They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.
Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.
Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."
Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.
"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.
Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.
With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.
The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.
"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.
When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.
"You really are a big boy, huh?"
"Damn right I am."
"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"
"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."
"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."
Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.
"You're ready?"
"Do it, big guy."
Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.
"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.
The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.
Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.
"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"
"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"
Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.
"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"
Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.
The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.
A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.
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I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!
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hayakawalove · 2 months
Text
The Perfect Present
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Summary: You and Satoru think of what to get Suguru for his birthday. What do you get a man who doesn't ask for much? (It's sex)
A/N: And if you look at your calendar, you'll see that the date is February 3rd (it's not) (pretend it is). Another poly satosugu fic for the books. I'm a bit worried my presentation of reader and Gojo's relationship is coming off bad... In all the fics I have for them, their relationship has a heavy emphasis on teasing each other and just being light. I hope it doesn't seem like I don't love him as much, or that he and reader don't like each other. Comments always appreciated!
CW: Smut, Polyamory, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Oral Sex, Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Humiliation, Dom/sub, Masturbation, Come Swallowing, Nipple Play, Creampie, Dom Suguru, Sub Reader and Gojo, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader
W/C: 4,028
Credit to Benkeibear for the banner
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A low clicking sound is the only noise in your living room. You have your feet kicked up on Satoru’s lap, the heat of his laptop resting on top of your shins. 
“What about a necklace?” You break the silence, fiddling with your shirt. 
Satoru hums, backing out of yet another online store. The two of you were looking for a birthday present for Suguru, a notoriously hard task. 
It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful. He was too grateful, that was the issue. He liked everything you got him, his face always breaking into a smile even if you bought him something he already had. This year you and Satoru wanted to get something he would love. 
“This is hard.” Satoru drops his head back. 
You look up towards him. His hair was messy as he kept tugging at it as he browsed the internet. Satoru looks back down and furrows his brows, rapidly clicking his mouse. 
“This is so annoying, I keep getting adverts that are basically soft porn.” 
You lift a brow at him, admiring his face. 
“They say ads are algorithmic. Maybe stop searching up soft porn and you won’t get them.” 
Satoru scowls at you, pinching your leg. You yelp and watch as he runs his fingers through his pale hair again. 
“I don’t look that stuff up, why would I need to? I have you and Suguru, my own personal porn stars.” 
Your lips twitch in response. You rarely got embarrassed by Satoru anymore, but occasionally he would say something that left you reeling. 
And he wasn’t really wrong. You did feel like a porn star for the two men at times, ready to perform for them at any given second. 
An idea pops in your head. 
“Satoru, what if we let Suguru do whatever he wants for a day?” 
Satoru grins and backs out of the page he’s on. 
“I’m listening.” 
~~~
Your skin prickles in anticipation as your legs cramp below you. You were sitting on your knees, a dull pain beginning to take root in your muscles. The lingerie you were wearing was digging into your sides, the sensation mildly uncomfortable. You knew it was worth it though. You never wore lingerie for Suguru, so you were filled with excitement at how he would react. 
Satoru whines beside you, running his finger underneath the strap that bit into his chest. You told him he didn’t have to wear lingerie too, but he insisted. Wanted to match you, he said. 
“I’m home!” You hear Suguru’s voice call out. Butterflies fill your stomach as anxiety starts to take form in your stomach. 
You and Satoru were in your bedroom, waiting for Suguru to find you. Satoru was practically bouncing up and down in excitement. You can hear Suguru set down his backpack, before filling up a glass of water. 
What if he thought you looked stupid? 
You knew he wouldn’t, but the fear gnawed at you nonetheless. 
“Where are you guys?” Suguru asks, footsteps getting louder as he makes his way to the bedroom. 
You hold your breath as the door knob turns, revealing Suguru. His expression turns from confused to hazy as he notices what you’re wearing. 
“H-happy birthday Suguru.” You attempt to speak loudly, fingers digging into your thighs. 
“What do you think?” Satoru asks, his face lighting up in a smile. 
You notice Suguru’s fingers grip the cup tighter and you wonder for a second if the glass may shatter. 
“What do we have here?” Suguru questions, walking further into the room to set his glass down on the nightstand. 
He comes back around and stands in front of the two of you, head tilted to the side as he watches you. You feel like you’re being assessed, graded on your posture and by the stillness of your body. 
“It’s your birthday, we wanted to celebrate you.” You say meekly. 
Suguru lifts up a hand that you nuzzle into, your cheek smooshing against his palm. 
“Is that right?” He asks, lifting his other hand to caress Satoru’s face. 
Suguru leans forward to place a kiss on Satoru’s lips. The act is a bit aggressive, you’re able to see a wince form on Satoru’s face. You would think he hated the rough treatment if not for the low groan escaping his throat. 
When Suguru pulls back, Satoru’s face is tinged a dark pink. Anticipation begins to build up in your stomach, taking a physical form by leaking between your legs. Suguru turns his head to you, locking his lips against yours. He kisses you much softer, always bordering on the line of not enough. 
You wanted him to be rough with you. 
You wanted him to ruin you. 
He pulls away the second you feel your oxygen depleting. There are stars in his dark eyes, shining as his gaze flicks back and forth between you two. You can practically see his mind churning, thinking about what he wanted to do. 
Satoru’s panting beside you already and you almost feel sorry at the sad sight. It wasn’t about him tonight, but you wanted to help ease the ache between his legs. You knew he was feeling it, because you were feeling it too. 
“What am I going to do with you…” Suguru speaks under his breath. 
Satoru raises his hand, brushing it against the front of Suguru’s pants. He’s about to start unbuttoning them before Suguru grabs his wrist, fingers digging into Satoru’s pale skin. 
“I think you should ask first, don’t you?” 
The oxygen is sucked out from the air around you, and your throat immediately feels dry. Satoru is trembling beside you, probably from excitement. You couldn’t blame him. 
“Can we suck your cock?” Satoru asks. 
“I don’t think you asked politely enough. Try again.” Suguru looks unamused as he stares at Satoru.
Satoru whimpers before his hand falls limp in Suguru’s hold. 
“Can we please suck your cock, sir?” 
Suguru cracks a grin, releasing Satoru’s wrist. He’s immediately fumbling to unbuckle Suguru’s pants, the heat of the room rising. 
Satoru pulls Suguru’s pants down, eyes wide as he gazes upon the bulge. You were barely able to stay still at the sight. Satoru peels his underwear off, mouth dropping open once Suguru’s cock falls out. He places a lick at the bottom, dragging his tongue until he reaches the top. Suguru’s face remains neutral as he watches Satoru. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, scooting closer to the two. 
The heat radiating from Satoru was almost scorching your skin. When he pulls back, you’re able to see the saliva shining on Suguru’s cock in the low light. Irresistible. Satoru groans as he pushes his mouth all the way down, nose being met with a mess of curly black hair. Tonight wasn’t about you either, but you almost felt like it was. The sight of the two was almost too good to be true. 
You release a quiet whine, thighs shuffling beneath your body. You’re getting impatient now as you watch Satoru indulge himself. 
Suguru’s eye flick over to you and a coo slips from his lips. His large hand combs through the crown of your hair, the warmth of his palm seeping through your scalp. 
“I know baby, Satoru’s hogging all the fun, isn’t he?” 
Your brows furrow as your teeth dig in your lip, nodding up at Suguru. He coos once more before using his other hand, threading his fingers through Satoru’s hair and yanking him off his cock. A gasp of air is released from his mouth as he winces, following the motion of Suguru’s hand so as to not cause more pain. 
“Good pets know how to share.” Suguru scolds. 
You wait for permission as you look up at Suguru. You can practically see the hearts swimming in his eyes, but they may just be a reflection of your own. 
“Take it.” Suguru says. 
You scoot forward and wrap your lips around Suguru’s cock, Satoru’s saliva mixing with yours. It’s a filthy sight, the way you look kneeling before Suguru. Satoru’s panting beside you, hair still being pulled by Suguru. 
You allow your tongue to slide down, caressing the sensitive skin on Suguru. He shows no emotion that may tell you he’s enjoying himself, but that only makes you want to try harder. Tears leak from your eyes as you force yourself down even more, the weight of his heavy cock causing your jaw to ache. 
Suguru’s eyes are cold and calculating as he watches you. There’s a pit growing in your stomach, the urge to make him come undone stronger than anything you had ever felt before. If it was Satoru in front of you, you would be gifted with a slurry of groans and curse words. They balanced each other out, you guess. 
“You guys got all pretty for me?” Suguru asks, eyes drawn to the way your lips were wrapped around him. 
Satoru has to speak up a bit louder than normal in order to talk above the sounds of you choking on Suguru. 
“Yes sir.” Satoru plays nice, face still wincing at the pain shooting through his head. 
You can’t breathe. You aren’t sure you want to, either. The lack of oxygen is going straight to your pussy, a throbbing beginning to start. Suguru must notice the twitching of your fingers. He notices everything. 
“Satoru, you wanna be a good boy for me?” 
“Depends-“ Satoru gasps as Suguru yanks his hair tighter. 
“Why don’t you get yourselves ready?” It’s not a question even though Suguru poses it as such. 
He releases Satoru and allows him to move closer to you. You feel the ghost of a kiss against your shoulder, Satoru’s lips brushing against your exposed skin. You break out in goosebumps as you thrust your mouth over Suguru’s cock, a mix of salty precum beginning to drip down your throat. 
Satoru’s hand glides over the skin of your thighs, parting them for you. Once his fingers make contact with your clothed clit, you jump, a moan muffled around Suguru. Suguru runs his hand through your hair, soothing you as you suck his cock. 
Satoru buries his middle finger in your slit, molding the lingerie to your dripping pussy. He rubs over it several times before pulling his finger back, sliding it in his mouth before hooking the fabric, easing his finger into you. The stretch is delicious as he dives his finger inside, thrusting in twice before sliding in another finger. As he does this, he uses his other hand to wrap around his cock, rubbing it through his garments. 
The two of you are moaning, filling the room with pornographic sounds. Suguru looks entranced as he watches you two. You wanted tonight to be for him, but it was starting to feel like you and Satoru were having the most fun. Then again, you felt as though Suguru got even more pleasure watching you both, controlling when and how you were getting off. 
Satoru pulls his cock out, tugging it at the same pace he finger fucked you. Satoru’s fingers slide against your sensitive walls, fucking you even though your tight pussy was practically holding him in place. You try to stop yourself from grinding against his hand, desperate to not appear any more pathetic than you already felt. Satoru’s cock is wet and hard, the sounds of his hand sliding down nearly echoing. 
Suguru’s lips are parted as he stares down at you. Something akin to pride blooms in your chest as you look up at him. 
“Is she ready?” Suguru asks, reaching up to let his hair fall down. 
Satoru’s brows are furrowed as he groans, reaching his fingers deep inside you. You dig your nails into Suguru’s thighs, craving for more. 
Suguru pulls back, releasing your mouth from him. You’re finally able to get fresh air, your throat already sore from the rough treatment. You heave as you look up at him, completely disregarding the obscene strings of saliva connecting you to his cock. 
“You look so pretty, don’t you baby?” Suguru says, leaning over to swipe the spit from your face. 
“Y-yes sir.” The only thing on your mind is him. How can you make him feel good?
Suguru coos and helps you to your feet. It’s borderline tortuous to have Satoru’s fingers slide out of you. He also winces in disappointment, popping the fingers in his mouth. You get on your hands and knees on the bed, shoving your ass out to signal how badly you needed contact. 
You can feel the burn of Suguru’s stare on your body, and you’re trembling with excitement. His large hand comes up to graze across your sensitive flesh, eliciting a soft groan. Suguru grips your ass and spreads it, sliding his cock between you before easing himself inside your pussy. 
Satoru’s fingers did warm you up, but you weren’t so sure it was enough. Your mouth drops open and your body tenses up, pussy almost pushing him back out. 
“Hey, hey, relax baby. You gotta loosen up for me. It’s my birthday, remember?” Suguru speaks. 
You whine and try to force your muscles to comply. The action gives Suguru the ability to slip in completely. 
“Fuck.” Suguru moans, digging his fingers in your ass. 
You aren’t able to see, but Satoru is standing next to Suguru, a frown plastered on his face. 
“What’s wrong Satoru?” Suguru appeases him. 
“I, I need-“ Satoru can’t get the words out, he’s grabbing his cock as he tries to figure out how to ask for what he wants. 
Suguru pulls back slightly, before shoving myself back in. You let out a sharp gasp and drop your face into the bed. 
“Why don’t you tell me what you need?” It sounds like a trap with the way Suguru asks it, his voice sickly sweet but his eyes dark. 
Suguru grabs Satoru’s cock, rubbing it a couple times as he stares at him. He paused his movements in you, his cock completely still as it rested deep inside you. You’re close to fucking yourself on him, your anticipation gripping you like a vice. Satoru’s breathing heavily behind you, his hand holding Suguru’s arm. 
“Need more, please.” Usually Satoru would fight back, but he was a pile of mush today. He must really want it bad. 
“Such a good boy today.” 
Suguru speaks, grinning as Satoru almost doubles over. Satoru lets out a groan, thrusting his hips forward to meet Suguru’s palm. Suguru starts to fuck into you at a leisurely pace, his cock grazing your sensitive walls. You try to remind yourself that it’s his birthday, that this isn’t for you, but your patience is waning. His cock is still keeping you stuffed, nearly full to the brim, but just like Satoru you wanted more. You wanted him to bring his hips back only to slam into you so hard you couldn’t breathe. 
“Why don’t you use the front, you’ll let him do that won’t you sweetheart?” The question is aimed at you, but it’s hard to respond with your mind being clouded with need. 
“Mhm.” Your face is smashed in the bed, as you breathe deeply trying to collect yourself. 
Suguru lets go of Satoru, watching as he stumbles to the bed. When he gets on top, he sits on his knees in front of you. Suguru reaches up and laces his hand through your hair, yanking it back to expose your face to Satoru. The action is painful, a low groan falling past your lips as you try to focus on Satoru. His face is bright red above you, his leaky tip inches from your lips. Your stomach twists at the sight, he looked so fucking good. You stick out your tongue, hoping it will distract you from the desire seeping in your core. 
“I’ve neglected you, I’m sorry.” Suguru murmurs, smoothing your ass with one hand. 
He pulls back and thrusts into you hard, jolting you forward. It was exactly what you needed. Satoru takes the opportunity to slide his cock in your mouth, moaning at the warmth that coats him. It’s getting hard to breathe between Suguru slamming into you, his pace slow but forceful, and Satoru’s cock filling up every inch of your mouth. If you listen closely enough, you’re able to hear Suguru’s soft moans behind you. Satoru’s precum is salty as it slides down your tongue. Suguru’s the one who sets the pace for you, his hand still gripping your head. He controls how your mouth moves, smirking to himself when he sees Satoru’s fingers twitch. 
Each time Suguru presses into you, his cock pushes against the sensitive spot in your walls that leaves you breathless. He knew your body like the back of his hand, his touch never failing to leave you reeling. You can hardly focus on Satoru’s cock, moans spilling from your lips at the way Suguru stretches you. Your jaw aches from keeping it open, tears beginning to well up in your eyes from the pain of Satoru’s cock nudging the back of your throat. You aren’t sure how much longer he’s going to last, his whimpers filling the room as he tosses his head back, his face almost completely pink. Suguru pushes your head down at a faster pace, breathless chuckles following once he hears you struggling for air. You swirl your tongue underneath Satoru’s cock, as your head bobs along his cock. 
“Suguru…” Satoru moans not your name, but the name of the man behind you. 
The name of the man who controls the two of you like puppets, created only for his pleasure. 
“Feel good?” Suguru asks, his face briefly pinching up. 
Satoru’s stomach is flexing above you, you can see it through the expensive lingerie that donned his body. 
“So, s-so good-“ Satoru’s precum is dribbling down your throat, and you have to continuously swallow. 
“I know, she’s perfect.” Suguru voice is almost muffled in your ears, your mind swimming. “You gonna cum?” 
“Yes, need to cum, need to-“ Satoru’s voice breaks off into a loud moan. 
He’s holding back, you can tell. 
“Oh you need to? You have a lot of needs today, don't you think that’s weird if you’re celebrating my birthday?” 
Your walls clench around Suguru at the harshness of his words. You hope he won’t point it out, you aren’t sure you could handle the humiliation from him right now. You might cum on the spot. 
“Please,” Satoru sobs. 
Suguru hums, his hands full of the flesh in front of him. He kneads your ass as he talks. 
“Please, please, Suguru I’m gonna!”
Suguru’s breathing picks up behind you. He’s getting off on this. He likes knowing Satoru needs him. He likes hearing him groan his name, even though he isn’t touching him. 
“Alright, alright.” Suguru slams your head all the way down, the action nearly bruising the back of your throat. 
Satoru moans loudly, his breathing stuttering as cum begins to shoot out into your mouth. You choke at first before you regain your barings. 
“Don’t swallow.” Suguru tells you. 
Suguru pulls you off Satoru’s cock once he sees Satoru regain composure. Suguru pulls you up until his toned chest is pressing into your sweaty back. He tilts your face towards his, digging his fingers into your jaw and pressing his lips against you. The cum leaks from the corner of your lips as Suguru laps it from your mouth, desperate for a taste of Satoru. His hips stop as he kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth. His breath is heavy as it mixes with yours. 
Suguru pulls back, admiring your face before pressing down on your back, shoving you into the bed. You yelp as he starts to thrust into you again, your walls sensitive from all the constant teasing. 
“Taste so f-fucking good Satoru.” Suguru moans, holding your hips as he fucks into you. 
Suguru’s pace is steady now that he’s able to fully focus on you. He reaches his hand around and slides his fingers onto your pussy, circling your clit. You moan into the bed as he presses into you. Overwhelming, Suguru was overwhelming. 
“Satoru, get under her.” 
The two men move your body until Satoru is laying beneath you, bright blues looking up as his hand caresses your face. You whimper as you look down at him. He leans up to press his lips against yours, silencing all your sounds. You try to force your body to remain stable on your two wobbly arms, but your body was feeling useless. His tongue slides against your bottom lip, diving in the second your mouth opens. He tangles it with yours, his eyes rolling back once he tastes the remnants of his cum. Satoru slides his hand down your body, grazing against your chest. His fingers take advantage of your hardened nipples as he pinches them. Suguru breathes in a sharp breath when your pussy clenches around him. 
Each part of your body was being stimulated by the two men, your senses nearly burning out from the pleasure. Satoru pulls away, looking up at you as he continues to tease your chest. His eyes are closely monitoring each of your reactions, lips parted as he watches. 
Suguru strokes your clit, speeding up once he starts fucking you faster. Moans were falling from your lips now that you were unrestricted. You knew you were going to cum soon, and it scared you knowing that the men would be able to keep this up for endless amounts of hours. 
“Good, s-so good, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You sob, forcing your eyes shut. 
Suguru slams into you, groaning at the intermittent squeezing of your walls. His cock is drenched in your lust, the lubrication making it all the more easier to thrust into you. 
Satoru continues to play with your nipples, switching between sliding his thumbs over them and pinching them. He’s mesmerized as he watches your face twist in pleasure, nearly jealous that Suguru’s the one who’s balls deep inside of you. 
Suguru’s circling your clit as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge. He wants you to cum first. 
You let out a long moan as you tighten around Suguru, so much so that it’s hard for him to continue fucking you. You cum on his cock, Satoru refusing to stop touching you. You cum so hard you nearly black out, almost afraid that your arms would give out on you, causing you to fall onto Satoru. 
“Fuck, that’s it baby, come on.” Suguru murmurs, his breathing more labored. 
He pulls his fingers away once you settle down and reaches them forward to stick into Satoru’s mouth. You get a front row seat as Satoru licks Suguru’s fingers, groaning at the taste. Once he’s finished, Suguru leans back to hold onto you. His pace is irregular, letting you know that he was close. You stare into Satoru’s eyes, maintaining eye contact. Suguru pushes into you, his hips stuttering as he starts to cum. He isn’t as noisy as Satoru, but the sounds he makes still travel to your ears, the low moaning making your body melt. Suguru stays inside you for a couple of moments, wincing when he pulls out. He admires the cum filling your hole, looking around to find something to clean you up with. Satoru brushes your hair back and slides from underneath you, appreciating your trembling figure on the bed. 
Suguru cleans you up, carefully helping you lay down. 
“I love you.” Satoru grabs Suguru’s wrist, pressing his lips against his. 
“I love you too.” Suguru says. 
You look up at the two men, your bottom lip jutting out. Satoru chuckles and Suguru’s lips spread into a soft smile. 
“I love you too.” Satoru aims towards you. 
Suguru repeats the sentiment, your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. 
The two men make their way to the bed, and instead of sandwiching you in the middle, Satoru waits until Suguru lays down before he lays on his other side. 
“Can we sing to you now?” Satoru asks. 
“Please don’t.” 
Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak
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holylulusworld · 4 months
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TOL - I’m your daddy now (1) - Lloyd Hansen
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Summary: You reached the end of the rope.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader
Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, Lloyd is an ass and boob enthusiast, mentions of sex for money, money trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, slight mommy kink (kinda, it's Lloyd)
A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It's the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine.
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You reached the end of the rope. 
With your three-year-old little boy depending on you, it’s not easy to face reality. In two weeks, you will have to leave your home. The bank will take the house, and even the wreck of a car you call your own.
Your deadbeat of a husband left you with nothing but debs and resentment for men. He’s out and about with a younger, prettier, and slimmer girl. – His words, not yours.
While you tried to save your marriage, he fucked some woman he met at a bar behind your back. You knew he was a sleazy and worthless bastard, but never expected him to turn his back on his son too.
It’s not that you didn’t try anything to make enough money to pay for the mortgage and feed your son. One too many nights you went to bed hungry, only lukewarm water in your belly to at least save enough money to buy food for your baby boy.
“Mommy,” your little boy yawns as he looks up at you. He holds out his chubby hands, whining because you don’t pick him up. You just look at him for a moment, feeling your heart chatter all over again.
“How could I ever fall for your father,” you sniffle when you pick your son up. You peck his cheek and sigh. “At least he gave me you. The only good thing coming out of this relationship.”
You nuzzle his cheek and try to ignore the ache in your chest, and your growling stomach. At least you got paid yesterday. It’s not enough to keep the house for another month, but you can get food on the table.
Whatever happens tomorrow, you don’t know. The website you found promised help in hopeless situations. You never know with the internet, but it’s your last resort.
If they don’t keep their promises, you’ll end up on the street with your son only because your husband ran off with all of your savings. He even stole the money your grandmother left you for desperate times.
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“Hi, uh-I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I have an appointment,” you wring your hands while looking around the lobby of the building inheriting the company promising to save your home. The woman at the reception doesn’t even look your way. She huffs and lifts her perfectly manicured index finger to stop you from talking.
“I don’t think you are what we are looking for,” she snaps at you, and your heart sinks. You look down at your body, sighing deeply. The business outfit you are wearing is a tight fit. You gained weight during pregnancy you never got the chance to lose. “You should go home and bake cookies for your kid.”
She points her finger at the stain on your blouse, simply to embarrass you even more. Some women are like that. They try to feel better, or above you by making you feel small.
“Kiki, that is enough,” you flinch when a hand brushes over your ass. The man pats your cheeks, humming happily. “What do we have here?” He purrs and gropes one cheek. “A perfect plump ass.”
“Mr. Hansen, Sir,” the woman splutters. She looks like she saw a ghost, or worse, a monster wanting to eat her alive. “I told her that she doesn’t belong here.”
“Kiki, Kiki,” Hansen tuts while patting your ass. “I decide who belongs here.”
You don’t know what to do. Usually, you’d slap any guy trying to feel you up across the face or kick their balls. But this man could be your way out of your financial crisis. 
“Yes, of course, Mr. Hansen but just look at her,” she squeaks, and points at you. “I don’t think any of our clients want something like this to fulfill their…”
“ENOUGH!” Hansen slams his fist onto the receptionist's desk, making Kiki flinch. “We never talk about our clients nor our employees in front of people outside of our organization. You are dismissed.”
“What?” She stares at Hansen in disbelief. “For today or…”
“Forever,” he huffs and turns around. The man brushes his index finger and thumb over his mustache and grins like he saw something he’d love to devour. You are afraid it’s you.
“I have an appointment,” you clear your throat and try to ignore your heart hammers in your chest. This man looks more like a wolf, with sharp teeth and glowing eyes, than a man. 
“I know, sunshine,” he smirks and holds out his hand. “Please excuse my annoying assistant. She’s no longer working for me.”
You’d love to roll your eyes at the man in front of you. He’s one of the guys who believe you must immediately fall for his charm and non-existent manners. 
“If you’d like to follow me inside my office, sugar plum,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, and snickers, "we can talk about your problems and how to solve them.”
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“So…” He plops down on a leather couch. He pats the seat next to him, but you prefer standing in the room. “What brings you here, sunshine. How can Lloyd help you?”
“I found your website while searching for a way to keep my house,” you lick your lips. You hate that you must talk about your situation with this man. 
“Humor me,” he smirks and pats the seat again. “If you want me to help you, I want to know it all. From the beginning.”
He tilts his head and looks you up and down. “What do you want to know?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I came here, even though your offer sounded fishy. I reached the end of the rope.” You throw your hands up, and sniffle.
“Now, now. No tears in Lloyd Hansen’s office,” he gets up to march toward you. Lloyd cups your face and tilts your head. “I need to know every detail, sunshine. If you are lying, I’ll send you home with a slap to your plump ass.”
“Fine,” you snap at him and push against his chest. “Quit pro quo, Mr. Hansen. After I told you everything about my situation, I want the truth about your offer.”
“Be my guest,” he smirks darkly. “I hope you don’t pee your pants getting to know the truth.”
“I came this far,” you sniff, “you don’t scare me, Mr. Hansen. You’re not the first man wanting me to fail.” 
“A cocky one, I see,” Lloyd says as he sits back down on the sofa. “Begin, then.”
“What do you want to know? That my deadbeat of a husband left me for some bitch he met at a bar?” You drop your bag onto his desk and take your jacket off. “Or that I must raise my three-year-old son without him because his dick was more important?”
You stride toward Lloyd and step between his legs. He looks up at you, amused as you cup your tits. “I will lose my house and my car. I don’t make enough money to keep the house. He stole the money I spared to give her a nice life.”
“I see,” he licks his lips. “I think you already got what I have to offer.” Lloyd tilts his head and smirks as you start to unbutton your blouse.
“You want me to fuck you, right? That’s all this is about,” you wrinkle your nose. “And I’ll get the money I need to keep my house.”
He grins now. “Sunshine, you didn’t get that this is about business. I’ll put you on my website and my clients can decide if they want to fuck you or not.”
“Oh…” You sigh deeply. “I guess this means there is no hope.” You turn around to grab your bag. “Sorry for wasting your time.”
“Sunshine, wait,” he’s on his feet before you can grab your jacket. “I didn’t say you can just leave. Don’t you want to end up getting fucked good by my clients?”
“Do you honestly believe I was waiting to get fucked by random douches,” you turn back around and slap Lloyd with your bag. “I came here to find help, not dick.”
His grin widens as you slap his chest, face, and shoulder with your bag. “Careful, sunshine. If you don’t watch out, you’ll end up making me rock hard.”
“You’re disgusting,” you wrinkle your nose and cock a brow. 
“Oh, mommy can get mad,” he purrs and roams your body with his eyes. “I bet you are a strict mommy, huh? Do you scold your baby boy?”
“No!” You snap at Lloyd. “Keep my son out of this!” You slap him with your bag again. “Never mention my kid again, you asshole!”
“I knew you were special, sunshine,” he chuckles and grabs your wrist to keep you from slapping him again. “A wildcat ready to scratch and bite me.”
“I’m a tiger mommy if you want to know,” you growl and snap your teeth at Lloyd when he tries to press his lips to yours. “I’ll do anything to protect my son.”
“Sunshine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Lloyd drops his hands from your arms to grab your face again. This time he kisses you roughly. You bite his lower lip, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He greedily shoves his tongue inside your mouth, devouring your mouth. “I think you’ll make a grand-prime assistant slash sexy bunny for me…”
Part 2
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flnpushy · 10 months
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A tricky Pushing
It happened so fast. An internet hookup. He wasn’t even who he said he was. The guy was a complete jerk. I fell for his charm, but deep down I knew he was no good. Why did I let him do it? Why didn’t I just walk away…. He was aggressive with me, almost abusive in the back of his truck. Before I could do anything he had me naked…. After the one night stand he ditched me, never to have contact again, I tried to tell him but he ran, there was no getting him back. So now here I am, 9 months later. With his baby in my belly. 
I awoke from this crazy dream. This dream I've had for 9 months now. Hoping this time when I woke up, it wasn’t true. However when my eyes came open, there it was, a big belly hanging from my tiny frame. Ugh… I just want this to be over. Get back to the fun, outgoing, 18 year old girl I was. But this baby had to come out first. I went to all my appointments, and found that of course he had to put a huge baby boy in me. A first time 18 year old mom to be with an 11 pound baby in my belly. I’m so small I thought, I’ve only had sex once, how the hell am I going to push an 11 pound baby out of my tiny pussy? I guess I was about to find out.
After getting pregnant I vanished from people. I didn’t see my friends, my family, or even go outside of my house, except to the doctors. I just wanted to push this baby out and be done. I knew nothing about birth or pregnancy, the doctors said I should seek help to birth or even hire a midwife. I wanted nothing to do with this. It was too embarrassing and I had too much anger to cope with an assisted birth or midwife. I would just do this myself. I tried to end the pregnancy by pushing, reaching inside me and messing with things, hoping to break the water or something. But it was no use. The baby was inside me, and i had no choice but to let it grow….. So much anger, If only I could find that guy and take revenge…..
As I arose for another day of being pregnant alone, It hit me, A hard pain in my gut. I knew it was going to be happening. Finally i thought, I can get this baby out of me. Just push it out nice and fast, and be done.
These pains became more regular. A Couple hours passed. I curled up in a blanket to watch Tv and ride the pains. All i wanted to do was just push, but I knew there was no way the baby was going to just drop out of me. There had to be a dilation thing… right? I truly didn’t know. I stood up from my couch and pulled off my pants, shirt, and panties, exposing my lovely little body. I rubbed my painful belly a couple times and pushed like i needed to poop. This is how you do this? I think…. 
I pushed a few times, I quickly grew impatient. I carried his baby around for 9 months and now its going to be hard to push out! Seriously! I just wanted this to be done. I stuck my fingers up inside me. I reached way in as far as I could fit my fingers. I felt something bulging. Not sure what it was though. I decided to lay back down on the couch. 
Time passed, the pains got worse. It was afternoon, then evening.  Was I even going to have the baby today? How long does this labor thing last? Evening turned into night. I went to bed in pain. Awaking every 15 minutes to searing pains in my belly. Now i was really angry. 
The next morning came. I had been feeling pains for 24 hours now. But things felt different. The burning and stinging deep inside me was gone. Now The burning was inside my vagina. I awoke and immediately inserted my fingers. I pushed in a ways and bumped something. Its was membranous, squishy, and warm. I pushed in a bit more and felt something hard. Was this the babies head? Suddenly i felt a large gush, my hand was soaked and so was the bed below my body. What the hell was that?! Now the pains got worse… Have I done something bad? I thought to myself? I didn’t care. I walked painfully out to the couch and sat down. I was naked and it felt good, But my body didn’t, My vagina area was really starting to hurt. 
“THATS IT!!” I said aloud, “THIS BABY NEEDS TO COME OUT!”
I thought of him again. All this pain for his little bit of pleasure…. UGH!
I then felt like i needed to poop, and badly. I headed to the toilet and sat down. I pushed a few times and quickly realized it wasn’t poop, it was time for me to push the baby out. I made a couple grunts on the toilet before returning to the couch. My body began forcing me to push, it wasn’t very painful yet, and it felt good to push. Each pain made my belly tense up. I put my finger back in my pussy and pushed. I could feel something hard pressing against my finger about 2 inches inside. It must have been the babies head, but i wasn’t sure. When i stopped pushing it receded back a bit. This heightened my frustrations. I stood up, spread my legs wide and pushed hard. I did this for about 15 minutes until i could feel my pussy bulging . I reached down again and felt inside, just within my opening was a head, i could feel a tiny tuft of hair. I knew i was getting close now. Getting closer to being normal again, with no baby in me. Little  did I know the battle was just beginning. 
I continued pushing standing up for about 20 minutes, growing ever more frustrated that the baby hadn’t come out already. Is this baby stuck in me? I couldn’t help it, i reached down and felt inside me again. 
“SERIOUSLY!” I said out loud.
The baby had hardly done anything, not even a centimeter of movement. It had to be stuck. It had to…. But I didn’t know what to do about this. I wasn’t going to seek help… no never. All i wanted was the baby out. I sat back on the couch and pulled my legs up as far as i could, my big belly protruding out hugely in front of me. I pushed a couple times as a bead of sweat ran down my face. 
“UGH!! COME OUT!” I yelled. 
I realized that I could not see what i was actually doing. My belly was much to big for me to actually see my vagina. I got up and found my big mirror from my bedroom. I took it from the room and balanced it up against my coffee table about 2 feet from the couch. Now i could actually see my vagina. I went to push again. But caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror….. I took a hard look at my huge belly and by puffy pussy below it. I thought of him…. I couldn’t truly believe what his seed had done to me. I was angered once again. I pulled back on my legs and began pushing once more. I continued watching the mirror as i went. After about 20 minutes a tiny slit opened a bit in my pussy, I reached down and pulled my labia open, i could see the head now. As soon as my push ended the head disappeared from sight….
What the hell i thought… Its back inside! I had to think about it, i had held a newborn baby when i was younger that my cousin had gave birth to a couple weeks prior. I remember the size of the head. I looked at my pussy and realized….. How on earth is that going to fit….
Didn’t matter…. I needed this baby out!
I pushed hard again. This time the head could be seen with out opening myself up. I pushed hard an held it. The little head stayed there, until i stopped pushing…. Then it slid in. 
“Ugh!!” I said aloud. 
I tried again, once more holding the push, seeing the little head, and then watching it slide back in. Was this how it was supposed to be? Or was the baby already stuck? 
“Get outta there!” I said aloud.
I pushed again and reached down to feel the little head. How could i see it, touch it, but no matter how hard i push it won’t come out?
It was starting to feel like pushing wasn’t effective. But i kept going.
I squatted down holding the couch behind me. I could still see below my belly with the help of the mirror. 
“Mmmmm aaaaaaaa.” I pushed. I could see his little head again. 
“aaaaaa hhhhh.” Another push. More of the head. 
‘Come on little man…mmmmMMMmmmm.” A bit more head, about the size of a silver dollar was showing now. The contraction ended. Almost like a vacuum the babies little head slipped back inside me. I slid back from my squat and sat on the couch. I closed my legs and relaxed, sealing the baby back in my belly. I relaxed for a few minutes and regained my composure to try again. I squatted back down and began pushing. Nothing with the first contraction, not even a sliver of the head. The next contraction revealed a sliver of the babies head, before retracting back inside me again. One more push with the contraction revealed a bit more head, but not much before disappearing again. I became frustrated. Thinking about his baby stuck in my belly. He had it so easy… Now i have to push….
After another hour of making no progress i decided to walk around and push. Maybe moving around would trigger something to happen, or make more room for that little head to squeeze outta there. I grabbed a little mirror from the bathroom that I could carry, this way when i pushed i could see what was happening. I walked around the room, pacing through contractions. When a contraction hit me i squatted and pushed. I did this for awhile, Walking then, squatting to push, only to continue to see the baby slide back in each time. I continued this for a half hour. Finally i ended up back at the couch, full squat, and pushing more again. I began wiggling my hips as i pushed. Trying anything i could think of to make progress. It just wasn’t coming out. Now i was mad. 
I leaned back and pushed with all my strength, i reached down with my hands over my big belly and pulled back on my pussy lips. I tried getting my fingers in and around the babies head as if to attempt to pull it out. But it was no use, the head was to slippery to get a grip on. I was upset and exhausted.
Minutes went by, my body started basically pushing on its own. I had no choice now, there was a baby in me and my body was doing everything it could to push it out. All could do was work with my body and hope the baby came out. About 30 minutes of this passed, finally my pussy was opening farther and farther, slowly letting the baby come forth. Each push shoved the head farther into the opening and attempted to stretch my tight opening. Soon the head was starting to poke out a little bit, but my tight pussy lips continued to grip the babies head relentlessly. The head was now getting ever closer to crown, but still only the size of a silver dollar was really showing in my opening. I needed assistance to get this head to come farther. Maybe how the baby went in could help get it out I thought. I began rubbing myself and playing.
15 minutes passed and i couldn’t hold any longer. I orgasmed. The pressure was crazy as the orgasm contractions slid the baby down a bit more. the head was now pressed so tightly in my opening, it felt like i was going to rip open. The head was now so much bigger in my pussy opening. I pushed a few times but no progress was made. I was getting so close to the forehead of the baby coming through. It was so close, but yet the baby could still slip back in. I was scared to have to go through this again, so i constantly squeezed my muscles to prevent the baby from sliding back. I couldn’t bare the frustration of the baby going back in me now. It was so close to coming out. 
“Come on baby, get your head out!” I yelled pushing as hard as i could. 
This was the case for 45 minutes. Pushing with all my strength, making absolutely zero progress. I was pushing, my body was pushing, But with everything i had the little baby refused to move. 
“COME ON BABY!” I yelled.
I began wiggling my hips side to side and bouncing up and down. Doing anything in my bodies power to release the baby. It was stuck firm. I got up and walked around. the head didn’t move from its position making walking just about impossible. I pushed as i walked hoping for the baby to just fall out of me. But gravity was no help either. I went back to the couch and began to sit down. Thats when i screwed up…..
As is sat down I closed my legs slightly. I felt it…. The slip…. The babies head began retracting back inside. 
“NO NO NO NO!!” I yelped. “AHHHHH!” It was painful as the baby retracted. I watched in the mirror, pushing as hard as i could to stop it. But there was no stopping my body. I watched as the head got smaller and slowly disappeared back inside me. I saw in the mirror as my pussy closed up, sealing the baby back in my belly. I literally was flabbergasted. 6 hours of pushing and i still end up pregnant! I took a break.
30 mins went by. Finally i built up the courage and strength to go at it again. I pushed and things went faster this time. One push had the head in view. The next had the baby back where it was. Finally i made one more big push and i was at crown. Now it was time….. For the ultimate push. 
I dug my hands into a pillow, gritted my teeth, curled my little toes and push with every ounce of muscle mass that my body had. In one huge movement the head popped free. The baby began to rotate. The new push had the shoulders. Finally one last push freed the baby from the tight clenches of my 18 year old womb. I was done. 
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rosie-writings · 4 months
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Driven by Holy Force
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Summary: You had been friends with Sam and Colby since middle school, and it took the success of both of your channels for you to realize that only Sam could satisfy you.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Drunken sex (consentual), Sam x Reader smut, Lovelorn Bitter-sweetness all around— I’m not responsible for the fuzzy feels
Words: 5.6k
No Y/N Used
Title is from ‘Mine’ by Sleep Token
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The last time I stepped foot in this club, I was a shaking horrifyingly new green bean to the party space full of established content creators. 
Now I couldn’t keep up with the amount of greetings and glances that shot my way. I kept a smile pulled at my painted lips even though I shook to my core. My heart raced under my ribs, and I desperately needed a drink in my hands to hide behind. I needed an anchor, I needed a place to stay comfortable and out of the spotlight tonight, I needed someone—to find something—
Maybe it had been months now—years—since I gained my own separate platform and business apart from my best friends, but I still felt dependent on them. I remember Sam and Colby posting these dumb videos back in high school and I roasted their asses for being dipshits on the internet. 
I guess it paid off considering the room they gave to me in their new house. My room in their new house was bigger than my downtown apartment.
When they told me they were moving to LA, I remember standing shell shocked with questions. For how long? Why? Will I see them again—And then they asked me to live with them.
How much audacity did two boys have in order to ask the younger girl who followed them around like a lost puppy more often than not to move across the country with them?
They didn’t ask without giving me the ultimatum that I had to focus on my own content and actually post a video more often than every six months. I agreed because who wouldn’t try it out at least once? I was only nineteen so if it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t have wasted precious time. This was the time to bulldoze my way through questionable opportunities. Technically we were all kids still; they were 21, nearly 22, and I was told that girls’ brains don’t turn on until they are 24 and boys’ brains don’t turn on period. 
I just didn’t expect for my channel to blow up alongside them. If they hit a milestone, I hit it six months later. 
Now I was 24. They were 27. And life was still on an incline. 
Everyday I was stunned by the achievements I somehow made. Perhaps authenticity and the exploitment of embarrassing universal experiences were things people my age really did want. I grew up imagining living the perfect life alongside the perfectly polished A list celebrities. I was nowhere near that and somehow, I had it so much better.
The major issue that I collided head on going 120 miles per hour wasn’t a massive internet scandal like I expected, but it was the way my stomach flipped when Sam looked at me from across the room.
Call it an overworked brain, call it a lack of sleep, or call it a lovelorn heart that was too afraid of being thrown away; whatever it was, it was out for blood. It made home in the fascia of my body.
God, nothing came of us in our past lives. Not when we found each other between classes in middle school. Not when we skipped school and whispered in the dark alleys of abandoned buildings. Not even when we woke up under the same roof like we always wanted. It was now. Now after the success, after the hard work. 
We were stable.
Suddenly I had time. Suddenly I had some leeway where if something blew up in flames, I would be alright.
Now I was feeling risky, and somehow my stomach caught onto it.
”Oh my god, finally.” I heard the voice pierce through the thoughts I couldn’t shake myself. I turned to a red drink pressed to my nose. I grabbed it before it spilled down my front. “She wins a Streamy and suddenly is fashionably late.” I burst out laughing and hid my blush with my hand.
”Tara, shut the hell up.” She grabbed my wrist and that was when I found my anchor. 
She led me to the table our friends parked at, and I sucked down the drink by the time we greeted each other. Two shots down and we gossiped like it was the end of the world. It felt like it. The colors in the dark room illuminated their eyes and sparkles in their eye make up, and I wondered if every night would feel like this as long as they were around. 
It took years, but here I was finally surrounded by girls who accepted me, who I didn’t need to pretend around.
The problem was, they saw right through me.
“Oh my god!” Vereena gasped and raised her hand towards me. I turned to her in expectation. “I forgot to say—I saw you and Sam out on what, like Tuesday night or something?” My face flared at the name and my heart skipped a beat because yeah, we did do something on Tuesday night. To be fair, Colby was stressed sick and lying in bed all night trying to schedule meetings. He told us to leave him the fuck alone because if we stayed in the house, we all knew we would coax him into having fun like swimming in the pool at 2am in the dead of winter.
”You—What?” I laughed. “Stalking me, are you?” 
“Me and Tara literally were meeting up,” she said as she lifted her hand to her. Tara laughed as she agreed with her and shook her head to intervene. “We stopped at the Trader Joe’s right there on the—the—and you guys were—“
”She’s right, I totally forgot. We got stuff for an apartment clean out night, and you and Sam were getting dinner or something.” I glared at Tara for egging this on.
”Colby needed us out of the house so we just got some food before we saw some friends—Why are you weaponizing this?”
”I’m not weaponizing,” she burst out laughing. “I’m just saying what a coincidence.” That toothy smirk and interlaced fingers made my eyes roll to the back of my head.
“You’re an idiot. We literally aren’t—“
“No one said anything about dating,” Tara said as she sipped her drink with raised brows. “Why did Colby even need you gone?”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to, Tar—“
“Uh no?” I laughed. “He was literally freaking out about getting shit done, I don’t fucking know—“
“Oh!” Tara gasped. “Speaking of—“
I stood straight as I felt arms around me. They came from around my neck and rested in front of me, face pressed against mine.
“Speaking of? What the hell does that mean?” Sam’s voice is loud in my ear and I drowned in it.
“Oh you know, just talking about Colby’s meltdown earlier this week,” Tara replied.
“Whoa, excuse me,” he said from behind Tara. She looked back at him with a laugh. “I literally was actually working unlike these bafoons.”
Good thing Sam pulled away and hugged the other girls at the table or else I would have collapsed. 
“Oh so what you're saying is you kicked them out so they could go on a date, right?” 
“What—“ Colby asked, completely taken off guard. “No? They got dinner then grabbed stuff for us to watch movies and actually chill. What do you mean date?”
“Oh my god Tara, you’re being weird,” I said, but as I looked at her, she shook her head with that pesky smile. I decided to interrogate her sometime before the night was over.
“How was last night?” Sam asked as he made his way back to me. I stayed with my best friend overnight after the party at her house because she was utterly blacked out. I was as well—don’t get me wrong—but she had a different kind of black out in her system.
“It was great, I don’t remember anything.”
“Jesus fuck,” he laughed. “At least you’re here in one piece—“ I didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed up and down my body. “—and she’s not, like, dead, yeah?”
“Yeah Sam, literally—I think we slept all day and Tara was the one who called us both over and over to make sure we were up before everyone came to get us ready.”
“You look really nice,” he said immediately after. My smile dropped.
“Thanks, you do too.” 
And he pulled his hand away from my back; his palm grazed my arm as he stepped back. I didn’t realize he even held me there.
“I’m getting drinks, do you want something?”
“Yeah, whatever is fine.” He nodded and took other people’s drink orders before retreating to the bar.
I stood in disbelief that Tara said that. To Colby’s face as well. Now I retraced every step I took with Sam; perhaps it could have been taken like we were dating.
But we all knew we weren’t. We had been best friends since middle school. It was clear; none of us liked each other like that. That was how we stayed together for so long without heartbreak or problems.
So I wouldn’t allow it to be a problem, no, this feeling in my stomach might have confirmed Tara’s words, but it didn’t matter.
The words would never leave my mouth.
Colby caught himself in conversation a few tables over, and I stayed with Tara and our friends at the table for only a few more moments until Sam came back and slid me a drink.
Of course it was the drink I always ordered for myself. I didn’t have to ask for it anymore; obviously he had known it forever now. Tara eyed the drink, my face, the drink…
Sam left without a word and mingled with the same group Colby was in.
It got out of hand now, I knew, and Tara’s words made it much more tangible than it had to be. No one had said anything to my face—nor their faces—yet, and for it to happen so suddenly and during a time of weakness nearly broke me.
But how could I not let my body not react when I looked up and saw Sam as he spoke and laughed with friends? He looked too good tonight, he always did, but I never chalked it up to be this kind of good. His glasses, his hair, his face; so familiar but so different. Then his eyes caught mine. Fuck. Too pretty, too blue in the lights; his head leaned to the side in question.
I hardly finished two drinks but they had to have done something to me because what were these thoughts? 
“You good?” I felt a hand on my arm.
“Totally! I was thinking that I’m bored,” I said as I looked at the girls.
“We’re waiting for a couple more then we were going to party, I promise!”
“You would be pregaming at the game wouldn’t you?” Vereena jeered, and while Tara glared at her, I laughed and grabbed my drink.
“When we’re ready, come and get me.”
“Sure thing!”
Who else was I to go to than the boys?
But Sam turned around and walked towards me before he noticed I was headed to them. I paused, and when he turned, he gasped and halted right in front of me.
“Oh hi,” he said quickly. “I was about to go so hi to some people, but—“
“Alright, I was just—“
“It’s fine, I haven’t seen you for like two days.” His arm linked around my neck and I rolled my eyes.
“Please, it was a night.”
“In the morning it will be two days.”
“Well, aren't you keeping track.”
“No,” he dragged out bashfully. We walked haphazardly from our friends and deeper into the club where the lights were far and few between and the music was louder until I felt it reverberating my teeth.
“Tara said I fuck ton,” he laughed.
“What are you talking about?” I shouted over the music. We caved into each other, my hand linked with his that was over my shoulder.
“She made fun of us being on a date right in front of Colby.” I looked at him with crazy eyes.
“What are you talking about? So we were on a date?” THat was when he smiled so wide his face flushed.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Nothing?” I gasped. “I mean, I don’t blame her, it was feeling kind of date-ish.”
“If you think that was a date then maybe you need to be shown what a real one is.” We stopped walking and I looked back at him with a smile fallen face.
“And you would be the one to show me?”
“I didn’t think you’d ever want to have this discussion.” His smile was long gone as well. We faced each other, so close that with one deep breath we would touch.
“I didn’t realize there was a discussion we needed to have.” He shook his head in defeat.
He took a deep breath then stepped away.
“Sam—“
“I don’t—You don’t—“
“I know,” I said firmly without breaking eye contact. “I know.” I repeated with more assurance than I ever felt before.
A second.
Another.
He inched closer.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t smile and he didn’t look away. I swallowed down nothing—my tongue was so dry—but I looked back at him nonetheless. And then his hand came up and touched my face as if he couldn’t resist it. My hand held his wrist just in case he was an idiot and pulled away.
“You’re so dumb, such an idiot.”
“I’m an idiot?” I gasped. “You are! You’re the one who won’t look away from me and then have the audacity to call me an idiot when you want to kiss me so bad.” That cracked a small smile from him.
“No, I mean, in all places, you decide to let me kiss you for the first time in a dark club away from all our friends?”
“God, and we aren’t even drunk. What is wrong with us?”
He smiled widely before he grabbed my face with two hands and pulled me into a kiss.
Of course I held onto both of his wrists now—just in case he was an idiot for a second time since everyone knew he was—but this only caused him to step deeper into me and knock me off balance. I gasped against him only for his tongue to divide my lips and taste what was behind.
“Sam,” I gasped his name against his mouth and he only hummed into me. One of his hands fell down and held my waist—tugging, grasping for something—and my arm wrapped around his neck. Fuck, he couldn’t get close enough to me.
My heart stopped the second he moaned into me. I could barely hear it, but I felt it in my mouth, on his skin. He kissed me like he meant it. I would taste him, feel it for days, and even if I wanted to forget, I knew the numbness of my tongue would itch for more and more—
“Oh my god—“ I leapt from him faster than how this all started. He too looked back to the voice, Tara, and he smiled widely. “I fucking knew it you motherfuckers, gaslighters if I’ve ever known them, and you damn well know I do—“
“Tara, chill,” I laughed. “If it makes you feel better, it was the first time that happened.” 
She gasped with wide eyes.
“ShIt, sorry I—“
“You’re fine,” Sam laughed. His fingers tangled with mine. “We were just coming back, actually.”
“We were?” I whispered as we followed Tara back to the tables.
“Shit,” he expelled and looked at me with a look I hadn’t seen from those familiar eyes. “What else did you want from me?”
I looked straight ahead even though I knew his eyes were hooked on me.
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Whatever—Whatever you could think of I guess.” He sucked in a breath and neither of us said a word until we joined with our friends again.
His grip on my hand tightened exponentially.
“Someone get these jackasses more drinks since they clearly haven’t had enough to chill,” Tara said. I glared at her and Sam walked up to Colby. My heart was in my throat at that point. There was something about Tara spilling the beans to our friends about our kiss mixed with the sight of Colby locking eyes with mine and them slowly widening when he realized.
His lips ever so slowly parted and he smiled with a shaking of the head.
“Fucking knew it,” he said. I didn’t hear him, but I read his lips and Sam shoved him back as he walked past him for a drink. Colby and I stepped closer together as a smile pulled at my mouth and he laughed loudly. “You are so fucking dumb,” he laughed still, and his hands raised in self defense as I wanted at him.
“I’m not dumb; he is.”
“Do you know how hard it is to read you? You literally say and do four different things. You had the poor man pining for years.”
“And I was supposed to know that? Maybe if he just sucked it up and kissed me—“
“Jesus fuck, just blame everything on me, what don’t you? If you want me to kiss you that bad—“
I choked on myself as Sam grabbed me and kissed me there in front of everyone. I swore I combusted the moment I heard my friends get loud, and Sam smiled into this kiss. Of course I pushed him off way too fast for him, but he accepted it.
He didn’t let go of my hand.
He didn’t let go of it all night. 
We partied, drank, sang, and talked until we forgot time existed. I couldn’t get this fuzzy ringing out of my head either. I did shots with the girls, Sam got me another drink, and if fourteen year old me knew where I was that night, she probably would have spontaneously combusted.
Because Sam? No way.
No fucking way.
But I kissed him, tasted him, and drank with him and sat on his lap like it had been normal for years.
Perhaps it should have been
I grew antsy.
I couldn’t think straight and I toppled over my shoes. When did they get so tall? And when did it get cold?
We were outside, we were on our way home. Not home. Colby spoke to Sam and it felt like they schemed something behind my back, they always did that, didn’t they? Sam shook his head and I was about to ask him what was up until Colby slipped him the hotel room key card.
Oh.
That’s what was going on. 
And he got into a separate Uber.
Sam and I were alone. 
No amount of training could have gotten my heart strong enough to handle this night. I hoped the Uber driver didn’t hear its pattering in its place, if it was even there anymore.
Sam’s arm was behind me and I leaned into him; I didn’t know what to say because then the entire world could hear. Suddenly it was as if every word I could possibly say was for Sam and Sam’s ears only.
His voice broke a thank you as we left. Thank god whatever hotel they booked for tonight was close to the club. Did that mean Colby went home? No, he got into that Uber, right. And he followed two girls in, there was a fourth person I thought. I didn’t remember shit—
The closing of the hotel room silenced my busy brain.
Sam pinned me to the door and it was all blood and guts from there.
I memorized the way he tasted as if to make up for lost time, and his hands did the same on my skin. I was so cold, so hot at the same time that he warmed me but sent chills down every inch.
”Holy shit, you’ve driven me so fucking crazy for so long. I didn’t think this—“ Sam couldn’t waste another second of empty air. 
A noise yanked from the back of my throat when his arm latched under my leg and pulled it up. My jaw dropped when he rolled his hips into mine and I could have blacked out. Maybe it was the alcohol that amplified my senses, but either way Sam’s touch was enough for me to lose it.
”Can—Can feel you through your jeans,” I whined. I didn’t know what I said, I just needed.
”Yeah baby? I won’t—fuck—won’t even make it to the bed—“
”Need you now.”
He watched me intently when his hand slipped down and palmed at my underwear. I flinched because they must have been disgusting after so long—
He had a visceral reaction.
His moans cut straight to where he touched me, and I pulled him closer, closer.
”Please.”
”No need to beg.” His voice was gentle.
Fingers moved my underwear to the side and he teased me once as if to ready me, but there was no use.
”Holy shit,” he moaned yet again when two fingers immediately slipped into me. “You’ve wanted it for so long, haven’t you? You’re already ready.”
”I thought you were going to touch me after you kissed me the first time.” He choked a laugh.
”Yeah and then make not only our first kiss but our first time together be in a club? Absolutely not.”
”Oh so you planned to torture me like this?” 
“I mean look at you; you’re writhing for me like I’m never going to touch you.”
”Just please—“ My head hit the door when he furiously tapped the spot inside of me. The leg that supported me caved, and he pinned me harder to the door. And that was when his mouth latched to my skin. I didn’t care. I wanted to wake up and see the red angry bruises from the night before.
Wanted the world to see them.
”Sam, I swear to god, just get inside of me.”
”Fuck,” he groaned against my skin. “Okay, okay.”
“Holy shit—Oh fuck oh fuck,” I gasped in anticipation. He moaned as he freed himself from the confines of his jeans and didn’t waste any time removing any of our clothes—
I held my breath when he filled me to the brim. He paused. I felt his breath stop as well. My entire body shook with the adrenaline that he caused, and for a second I wondered if some people were genuinely made for others.
“Shit, look at me, look at me,” he said. His voice had been deathly quiet since the moment we stepped foot behind this door. His hand latched to my throat and pushed it to the wall. And as he stared deep in my eyes like he did at the club when he kissed me for the first time, he thrusted into me once, twice—
I had to close my eyes or else he would have killed me.
“Fuck! Sam please just—You feel—“
“Feel so fucking good, oh my god,” he finally moaned louder. His head tossed back. My hand caved over his hand that pinned down my waist tightly. He sped up, everything felt faster and faster, more intense. 
“Fuck me, oh god, fuck me Sam. I need you so hard—“
“I know, baby, I know.” He gasped under his breath as he gained better leverage of my leg that he held over his elbow. 
This time, he knocked the breath out of me. 
“Holy fuck—yes, yes, yes,” I moaned and more inaudible words poured from me. I was inconsolable. I couldn’t control anything that came from my mouth anymore. 
And I thought I was the one we had to worry about being too loud; his moans mixed with mine in the hot air between us, and I swallowed them down with every distracted and messy kiss.
”You—Ugh,” he groaned loudly and tossed his head back. I watched in disbelief as that beautiful face twisted with a pleasure I could only imagine before. “I’m so obsessed with you holy shit.”
”Bed, please, need it hard.”
”Okay—“ I bit my lip to distract myself from the empty feeling when he pulled out of me. His hands grabbed me with a fervor they never had and I gave him control as he yanked me around and towards the unused bed.
I knew he tried to throw me down, but I didn’t let go of him and forced him down on top of me. I caught him in a kiss, and a whine broke from him as if he never thought he could touch me like this. I knew. I could tell; I could read him like a child’s book. 
“Off,” he demanded, and that was all it took. I helped him yank off the black tank that was a bit too tight already. I didn’t dare try to help him with my skirt; clearly he wanted all of me to undress, to undo, by himself.
As he took off my clothes, he kissed down my body, and I scooted back and properly lay on the pillows. I needed some kind of support—another kind of anchor—because this new side of Sam was something I almost didn’t handle. He almost shot me through the atmosphere with an adrenaline fueled pleasure that was so foreign to me.
“Taste so good,” he quietly hummed in between kisses.
”Haven’t really tasted me yet,” I gasped with my hands tangled in his hair. He’s hooked his head as his fingers slid my underwear off completely. 
“Just your skin is enough—“
But it wasn’t all.
I had to bite the back of my hand when his tongue pressed against me. One of his hands held down my hips as the other shoved a thigh back. 
“Sam—“ I cried and he moaned against me and tasted me, pleased me, more and more. It was like he couldn’t get enough; I couldn’t get enough, and he needed to give me everything until I was satisfied.
Could I ever be satisfied by him? I was selfish. I needed all of him all the time forever, maybe then I would be satisfied.
”Ugh! Oh my god, please,” I broke.
”Please what?” Fuck that sweet voice. Maybe he would never get the chance to satisfy me, he would kill me first. His finger tips ever so lightly swirled against me where his tongue made disgustingly wet, and his eyes flashed up at me with a look that made me forget every word I learned.
”Please—Hands, I need you—“
”I know that, how do you want me?”
”Fuck—You know!”
”Want you to tell me.” Another whine escaped me as he kitten-licked me once, twice. “Say it.”
”Fingers! I need your fingers inside me, please. Finger me and—oh fuck!” It was incredibly slow, I know that, but the intensity washed over me like a wildfire when two fingers pushed inside. The confidence in his touches alone were what sent me spiraling.
”And what?” Another noise came from me. I didn’t know where that gentle confidence came from. Did his other girlfriends get this? What about me? Mine. He was mine now and no one else’s.
”Need your tongue, please. Put your mouth on me.” The sentence still hung in the air when he dived back into me. This time he used his arm against my lower stomach to pin me down from writhing. I don’t remember what I said; I couldn’t hear the words that poured from my aching throat. All I knew was that it was enough for him to keep going and going until tears blurred my vision. “Sam, please. Please, I‘m—“
”You what, baby?” That fucking teasing.
”I’m going to cum.”
”Oh,” he said as if he didn’t already know that. And he sat up to his knees; his eyes watched his hand as it lazily fell down the work he did on me.
”No please! I want—“‘
“I know it feels good,” he cut me off. “But I want things too and if I’m not inside of you again literally this second I—I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Something nasty in me wanted to find out what he would do.
”Then hurry.” I sat up and fumbled with the top two buttons of his shirt so that I could at least slip it off his head, and he worked his jeans off.
”Holy fuck just—oh god—just stop,” he demanded and grabbed my wrist. “Lay down.” 
“Sam, come on,” I whined through gritted teeth.
Finally he kicked his jeans and underwear to the floor.
”The amount of times I’ve imagined you in my bed is—is unreal,” he said quietly as he crawled over me. My stomach dropped.
”Then why did you have so many girls?” A disgusted laugh broke from his mouth.
“‘Cause you didn’t want me—at least I thought. And how was I supposed to ruin what we had?”
“You wouldn’t have,” I gasped as he slid teased me up and down with his tip. My head shoved deepening into the pillows and I needed a break from watching him or else I would have passed out.
“I didn’t know.”
“But how?”
“How didn’t you?” The grit in his voice tied my throat in a knot and he firmly pushed into me. He didn’t give me any room to run away—not like I would have—but he pinned my thighs back. I had to take what he gave me. Good thing I wanted nothing less. 
“How didn’t you?” I shouted back.
That was when he wrapped his hand around my throat and actually pinned me down. My hand held onto his wrist and he came nose to nose with me.
”Wanted you so bad—holy shit—wanted you for so long—“ He couldn’t even finish his sentence, he needed his mouth on mine. I drank him down like he was the last water on earth and I hadn’t drank in weeks. He tasted like heaven in my mouth, and I wished I could feel more and more of him. I knew him all too well, and now I wanted to know him in every way physically possible.
“You don’t even know,” he laughed when he pulled away. A gasp shoved out of me when he linked my leg over his arm. I tried to listen to him, but how could I when he was so infinitely deep in me I didn’t have any more capacity for words. “Literally—I literally imagined it was you when I kissed other girls. Pretended I fucked you and not them. Fuck, it was never enough.”
”Sam,” I gasped at the confession. What was I supposed to say to that? The tears really never cleared up. Not with the unreal stimulation, not with the desperate confessions falling off his sweet tongue. “Wanted you. I was so mad—“ He cut me off with more kisses.
There was enough time to talk later. Right now he decided he needed to kiss it all away and make up for what we lost.
I lost track of time. Any amount could have passed and it would have felt the same. Maybe he fucked me so hard I would feel him for days, but never would this feel like only that. He was more than that, and I should have accepted it long ago. It must have always been there, because two years of living together wouldn’t have brought these feelings, no. I must have wanted him before. Before everything. 
“Oh my god,” he gasped for breath. “I love you so much, shit I love you.”
”I love you too, you know I have.” He nodded.
”So close,” he whispered this time. That haze in his eyes gave it away. 
“I know, inside of me. I need your cum in me.”
”Are—fuck—Are you sure? You—You aren’t on birth control—“
“I don't care, I'll deal with that later.”
“Fuck, you’re really going to kill me, aren’t you?” I couldn’t say anything else, and I smiled from the over abundance of butterflies in my stomach from his words.
”Fuck—I’m coming,” I gasped. I don’t know where it came from. It was like only he had an on and off switch for me.
”Yeah? With me then, baby.” 
I couldn’t even kiss him as I hit my high. It more so grabbed me by the throat and had a death wish for me. We moaned into open mouthed kisses; clearly he was too overcome to kiss me back as well. I held onto him like I was scared he would fall away from me, but how could that ever happen?
He got even closer to me, and pushed me down as tightly as he could. My hand tangled in his hair, nails leave their marks on his skin.
I wanted to live in this silence between us; make it my permanent home. There was nowhere else I wanted to be, and there was no more longing in my tired heart. How stupid I felt. Hopefully he felt the same.
Kisses trailed up my neck. I was lost in the feeling of his gentle touches across my skin. Thankfully he didn’t make a move to get off of me because I didn’t have the strength to fight him to stay down on me.
And I don’t know what came over me, the words just tumbled out.
"I don't think I can settle with just dating you," I mumbled. Sam stared back at me in anticipation. My heart skipped beats like a rock across the top of slick still water.
"What are you saying?" His words were careful.
"Even if we got married, calling you my husband wouldn't amount to what you mean to me, what you are to me."
"Not even marriage is good enough for you," he sighed. I laughed at his artificial annoyance. "Of course I'd be stuck with the one insatiable person alive."
I grabbed his face with my hands.
"You're the only one who's satiated me. What we are doesn’t. The only way I'd be satiated without you deep inside me is the promise that we would be together even after this lifetime." I don’t think he blinked. He stared at me, lips parted with bated breath. Even as we laid connected still, and it was so far past the point of being disgusting, he pushed against me harder.
"Fuck, you’re the beginning and end of me."
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A/N: Requests are open
Love, Rosie
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jals-stuff · 3 months
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hello :) saw ur headcanons! mind doing one w deli and the sl*tty jester pleaseeee?
good day anon~ I see that everyone is barking for Domina and Famin so I'll do just that.
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR MASHLE! If you do not know Domina, Famin, Delisaster and Meliadoul, please do not read!
Unless you don't care about spoilers. Then you're free to read~
How would these Mashle characters react if they found their s/o stuck in the washing machine? + personal ratings (again)
For Meliadoul, Domina, Famin and Delisaster.
Warnings: embarrassing? there's an f-bomb somewhere in here
short washing machine headcanons (part 2!)
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MELIADOUL…
She’s probably training Ochoa to do stupid things she saw on the internet when you call for her. (Thank you for saving the little guy.)
She’s going to laugh out loud when she sees you stuck head first inside the washing machine! Of course she will. “Please c’mon, please say Stepsis, I’m stuck!” but you won’t, because she’s laughing too hard for you to even understand what she just said.
When she’s finally calm again, she will try to get you out, struggling quite a lot and muttering insults towards the poor washing machine’s family tree, then finally give up and cut through it with her Magical Chainsaw. 
You’ll get very scared, of course, and the chainsaw will absolutely cut through you, but you’ll feel extra relaxed afterwards. She will occasionally tease you about this episode, mostly if you’re cuddling with her.
Made fun + cut you with her Chainsaw, but now you feel nice. You aren’t even mad, 8/10.
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DOMINA…
Domina is attempting to make some apple pie when his focus is broken by a muffled scream coming from the laundry room. He sighs and immediately makes his way there.
With anyone else, he would get super angry, but it’s you, and he loves you very much. “Oh no, (Y/N), are you alright?” He isn’t panicking, but he’s a little worried that you might be feeling in pain or too uncomfortable.
He will undoubtedly get you out very nice and slow, and make sure to inspect your face and arms to be absolutely certain that you aren’t hurt (you’d better hope so if you don’t want him to molest your poor washing machine afterwards).
If you’re embarrassed or uncomfortable about it, he’s going to bring you with him and keep making apple pie (it was supposed to be a surprise for you but fuck it) to distract you.
Gentle and cute, definitely makes good pies. 9/10 don’t forget to praise him for this please
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FAMIN…
He’s.. I don’t know, probably stealing stuff from his brothers’ rooms when you call him, and his head makes a whole 180° turn before he realises that you need him, and he comes to see you.
Will probably sit on your back while you’re stuck. “Is it nice in there?” he’s going to ask while giggling. If you say it isn’t, he will pull you out immediately and sit next to you to check your expression for any discomfort.
However, if you’re dating Famin, you’re the type that will say it’s nice, so he will first of all pull you out of the washing machine, and then take your spot in there. He’s going to end up being stuck too.
Now you have to pull him out and you don’t know how to do that, you’re left with a jester inside a washing machine. Sounds like the beginning of an awful pun.
Helped, but got stuck instead. at least it was funny, 7/10.
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DELISASTER…
He is 100% scrolling on social media or taking selfies when you call for him, and he’ll keep his eyes glued to his phone while making his way to you.
Upon seeing the pitiful display in front of him, he chuckles. “Oh, em, gee. Are you, like, stuck or something?” He will definitely sit down next to you and take selfies showing his face next to your figure, completely stuck.
He will start a TikTok livestream (titled "LMAO F IN THE CHAT FOR (Y/N)") and ask his followers for advice to get someone out of a washing machine, and make absolutely sure that everyone can see you. What a jerk.
If you start sulking or being too uncomfortable, he will put his phone away and get you out of there immediately, without any further questions. Maybe he’ll take you to a party or let you rest on his lap as an apology.
Mean, and why does he speak like a frat boy?? But at least he’s pretty and the party was nice. 7/10
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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 8 months
Text
touch-starved | min yoongi
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we are going to ignore how every single one of my writings has nightmares in them, i personally experience very vivid nightmares on occasion so i guess art imitates life or whatever. also we're gonna ignore that this is the second bodyguard imagine i've written, this one was a request so it's a little less embarrassing but still is a little but not enough that i won't post it on the internet because i know y'all shameless too. here we have bodyguard!yoongi x celebrity fem!reader. warnings: stalking/stalkers (not yoongi this is not a yandere situation sorry), mentions of loneliness, a nightmare (obvs its me writing duh), horror movie mentioned...........idk if there's anything else but please do lmk
There is a soft knock at the hotel room door. You check the peephole to see Yoongi standing there, tapping rhythmically on his leg as he waits for you to let him in.
“Well, as far as I can tell, you’re not being followed,” he says as he enters, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it onto the chair by the sofa.
You sit on the sofa, rubbing your temples. “Well, that’s a relief,” you say tiredly.
“All this trouble for a guy you’re not even dating,” Yoongi says mildly, but he’s looking at you with his curious eyes, trying to gauge your mood.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever even talked to him,” you agree, flopping listlessly onto your side. “Remind me never to smile at anyone in public ever again.”
He smiles. “Or wear similar outfits, or go to the same places,” he adds, his eyes gentle. Then he leans against the sofa, facing the wall. “It’s not your fault, though.”
“I know,” you sigh. “You know, I kind of wish it was real,” you admit.
“Why? You like the guy?” Yoongi asks sharply.
“Not really,” you muse. “I mean, he is handsome. But it’s really that if I were in a relationship, it would mean that someone got close enough to me to like me.”
“I know you,” he responds indignantly. “And I like you.”
“You’re my bodyguard. You are paid to like me, so it doesn’t count,” you protest.
Yoongi shakes his head, annoyed. “On a good day,” he says scathingly, “I’d like you even if you weren’t paying me.”
“That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” you say, and the tension in the room dissolves as Yoongi gives you a smirk. “Who knew it would be so lonely to be a celebrity,” you say lightly, unable to escape a twinge of bitterness in your voice.
“It’s not all bad,” Yoongi reminds you, nodding out the massive windows at the spectacular skyline view.
You smile at the setting sun. “True,” you allow. “This part I like.” You watch for a few minutes as the sun sinks almost imperceptibly lower. “You must think I’m so spoiled.”
Yoongi shrugs. “I can see how there would be drawbacks. Personal privacy is a luxury that only poor people can afford.”
You tsk at him. “You’re talking in riddles again,” you scold. “It’s a condition at this point. You should really have it checked.”
He grins. “Just say you aren’t smart enough to understand,” he shoots back.
You chuckle, loving the back-and-forth. “Just say you have to pretend to be smart by using big words,” you retaliate.
He bows, his grin wider, as if to say, “you won this round”. “So,” he says, going to the mini fridge and popping a can of soda open. “What shall it be tonight, madame?”
You crinkle your nose in disgust at his butler-like tone. “Something spooky. In honor of fall,” you tell him, handing him the remote.
When he had become your bodyguard two years ago, at the recommendation of your agency, you had learned that he was required to work long into the night at your side. Feeling bad, you had started to watch movies every night when he came around so that he’d at least have something to do. Your relationship had come a long way — he had started out watching the movies from the back of the room, standing by the door, to now, sitting beside you on the sofa. This was representative of your relationship as well — when you had first met he was cold and professional, but now the two of you bantered back and forth in a way that was comfortable and easy. You really couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable with anyone, in fact.
It was hard to know when your less responsible feelings for him had begun. Truthfully, you suspected that you had just developed an unhealthy attachment to the only person you spent time around, but there were nights when you’d watch him writing in a little pocket-sized notebook, his long hair falling in front of his face, and imagine how it might have been if you’d met in a normal way — at a college somewhere, where he’d bring you a juice every day and help you study for exams. Now, there was barely a way to tell if what you felt when you saw him — that accelerated heart rate, that quiet thrum of energy in your mind — was real, or if it came from your own foolishness.
You watch him now — his face in the dying sunlight is so pretty you’re almost jealous, and the feeling in your chest pulses in a way that is almost painful. He turns on the TV and scrolls through shows until he finds a promising title: some horror film about an old woman in a spooky old house with a mysterious secret. As you begin the movie he has his arms folded, watching with veiled interest. But he notices the first time you flinch.
“Scared already?” he teases.
“You don’t miss a trick,” you say ruefully. “Pay attention.” You gesture to the screen.
About fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at the door that corresponds perfectly to a jump scare in the movie, and you yelp in fright. Yoongi gets up, brow furrowed. “Are you expecting anyone?” he asks.
You shake your head no. He looks through the peephole and curses. “It’s your stalker again,” he grumbles, pulling out his cell phone. “Hey, Harvey,” he says, and his voice is calm, but you can tell he’s angry. “I need you to come up to the room and grab something. I was hoping it had already been taken care of.”
The voice of the hotel security team lead says something unintelligible, and Yoongi thanks them before hanging up. He slides the two chains into their places on the door and takes a door jam from his pocket, wedging it between the door and the floor. He grins at your wide eyes. “Don’t worry, milady,” he says, “he can’t get in even if he figures out how to unlock the door.”
“But what if he did get in?” you whisper, spooked.
He shrugs. “I’d kill him,” he replies.
“For real?!” you squeak,
“No,” he says with an eye roll. “But I would incapacitate him in record time. That dude is a wimp.”
He seems to notice you’re nervous, and his eyes soften. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”
When he sits back down, he sits closer to you than normal. Your legs are touching. You look at him quizzically and he smiles. “It’s a small couch,” he says, throwing an arm up over the back of the couch — not around your shoulders, but close enough that you’re blushing.
You try to focus on the movie, but you find that despite your anxiety, you’re beginning to nod off. Almost automatically, you find yourself leaning toward Yoongi’s warmth, and your head finds his shoulder. Giving in to the exhaustion, you find yourself in dreams.
It’s not long before the dreams turn dark. You have been prone to bad dreams as a result of your overactive imagination, but these are more solid than your usual nightmares — stealing from reality and stretching it so that teeth are too long, smiles are too wide, and the hands that reach for you are too strong. You wake up with a gasp.
You’re in your bed. You flick on the bedside lamp and put a hand to your chest, breathing deeply, still anxious. When a soft voice calls your name, you nearly jump out of your skin. Yoongi has poked his head into your bedroom, and is now looking at you in amusement. “It’s just me,” he says, stepping inside. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you say, trying to recover, although your voice still shakes. “I just had a bad dream.”
He grins. “No more falling asleep to horror movies,” he says in a fake-stern voice. “Do you need anything?”
“I think I’d like if you stayed with me a minute,” you confess, your voice quiet, looking at your hands. You are more nervous he’ll say no than you are about the dreams.
When you finally meet his gaze, his expression is unreadable. He walks silently to the side of your bed and sits down beside you. You can’t help but admire how the lamplight casts an alluring shadow on his face before he does something unexpected.
He reaches out, and without looking at you, slips your hand in his.
You stare at him. He has never done this before — never touched you when he could avoid it. You’d always been grateful and a bit disappointed about this. You knew he should keep his distance and simultaneously wished he wouldn’t. To say you’re startled wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
And yet, holding his hand is soothing. You feel your fear fade away, and in a moment of boldness, give his hand a shy squeeze.
He looks at you, then at your interlocked hands. He takes a deep breath. “Well, I need to quit my job.”
This revelation is shocking. “Why?” you ask, suddenly panicked. “If I did something — I mean, I’m sorry if I crossed a line —“
He puts a finger to your lips. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says gently.
“Then stay with me,” you say, knocking his hand away from your lips.
“I can’t work for you when I feel the way I do about you,” he explains, almost in a pleading tone.
"What are you talking about?" you ask.
"I love you," he blurts.
You gape at him. "What?"
He blushes. "You heard me."
You look at his hand in your hand, and then back to him. "Are you serious?" you ask him, unable to keep a smile from your voice.
He rolls his eyes. "If you're just gonna make me keep repeating myself, this conversation isn't going to go anywhere." He stands up and places your hand back into your lap. "I'll give you some time to process."
You leap out of bed and follow him. "Wait a minute," you say, grabbing his hand. "How do you know you love me?" you ask him, your eyes searching his.
Yoongi blushes, but he looks a little pleased that you've grabbed his hand. "Well," he says, slowly digesting your question, "I think it's pretty easy to know. Of everyone I've ever met and spent time with, I've never enjoyed being around anyone the way I like being around you. Nobody makes me smile like you do, and nobody makes me crazier."
You blink. "Well, I feel all those things about you."
He raises his eyebrows. "You do?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't have many real friends," you explain, "but I'd rather stay in with you and watch movies than go out, or go anywhere really."
"You would?" he asks.
You give him a pointed look. "Now who's repeating themselves?"
He shakes his head. "I'm just shocked. Are you saying you love me back?"
You look at him, trying to find the answer yourself. Your heart is pounding harder than it did at any scary movie, and the heat of his gaze is making you feel flushed and squirmy. You struggle for words. "I --"
Yoongi throws his jacket and keys onto the couch, and in one swift movement he pulls you into his chest. He places his hand on your cheek. "What do you feel right now?" he whispers, his lips inches from yours.
"It's hard to know," you whisper back. "Completely crazy, but somehow calm. Entirely safe, but terrified. It's like I'm on top of something very high, but wearing a harness."
He gives you a tender smile. "That sounds like love to me." And then he kisses you.
You cling to him as he presses a kiss to your lips, then your cheeks and jaw and nose and forehead. Sighing in relief, you melt into his arms, enjoying the feeling of being adored. After he finishes kissing you, he holds you in his arms for awhile, running his hand down your back in soothing motions.
You carefully monitor your feelings as he holds you, realizing that after all this time alone, you could be a bit out of touch with them. You feel a lot of things -- wild and alive and a little dizzy -- but the undercurrent of your feelings is peace and quiet. It feels right.
"You do need to quit," you say suddenly.
He pulls back. "Why?" he asks, shocked.
"Because I do love you back, and I'm not about to pay my boyfriend to hang out with me," you say. "That's pathetic, even for me."
He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. "As you wish, love."
"You can hire your replacement in the morning," you say, kissing him again.
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tropes-and-tales · 1 year
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For the inexperienced smut thing, can I request "“(If you like it), we can go all night.”" with our favorite guy, Bob Floyd?
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AN: 18+ only for talk of sex (though nothing too explicit)
It’s not that Bob Floyd is a virgin, technically.  
Technically, the issue of his virginity was settled when he was nineteen.  For a paltry handful of minutes, he and his girlfriend fumbled their way through their respective first times.  Bob thought with that awkward first time out of the way, he and his girlfriend could practice, get better…but she dumped him the next morning.  Later on, Bob found out that she had been planning on breaking up anyway but had wanted to shed her pesky virginity before she did.
Bob, though?  Bob was heartbroken.  He spent his college years, his basic training celibate.  Why risk his heart again?
It was the right decision at the time.  Bob has never been a player.  He’s always craved what his parents have:  a stable, loving relationship.  Steady.  Full of love.  But even if it was the right decision, it puts him in a delicate situation now that he’s dating you.
Bob Floyd, dating the woman he is certain is his soulmate.  Bob Floyd who isn’t a virgin, technically, but who has so little experience he might as well be.
And you, who have no idea why, even months into dating, Bob refuses to do more than kiss you.
-----
It comes out because it must.  Bob knows he can’t fake his way into experience, and he knows he just has to come clean.  His stomach roils as he sits you down after dinner at his place, and you look at him warily.  When he reaches for your hand, you pull away, keep your hands folded in your lap.
“Just say it,” you tell him, and when he blurts out the truth, you laugh.
Then your hand flies to your mouth, clasps over your mouth.  “Oh!” you say, muffled.  “I’m sorry!  No, I’m not…shit, I’m not laughing at you—”
“No, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head, chuckles sadly.  “I should have more—”
“No, Bobby!”  You move your hand to his arm, grip him.  “God, I do this…this nervous laugh thing, and when you sat me down, you looked so serious.  I thought you wanted to break up—"
“Oh, no!  Not at all!”  He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly.  Steadies himself as if he were back-seating in a plane.  “I thought you might break up with me…”  He trails off, doesn’t finish the sentiment.  That he thought you’d dump him once he came clean about his pathetic lack of experience.
You shake your head.  “It’s not that big of a deal, you know.”
“It is.”  He doesn’t add that his angst around his lack of sexual prowess has only grown since he’s joined the Daggers—Rooster and Jake, Fanboy and Payback, Harvard and Yale…hell, even Nat joins in with the bawdy joking, the bragging about their past conquests and their posturing around future ones.  Then he met you, started dating you, and suddenly all he can think about is sex:  taking you to bed, giving you pleasure, finding pleasure with you.  
And once he starts to think about it, he starts to obsess about it…which is why months have passed with little more than a handful of spirited make-out sessions with you.
But he’s come clean now, and his face is flaming hot at the embarrassment of it, the shame of being his age and having a single encounter to his name…but you don’t seem mad or frustrated, and your bout of nervous laughter bleeds off some of the tension.  You sit beside him and gift him with a soft smile.
“It’s really not a big deal,” you repeat, and you reach out to take his hand finally.  You give him a reassuring squeeze.  “If you want to, we can take it however you want.  No pressure at all.  We can wait as long as you need.”
Bob is tired of waiting.  He’s tired of wanting you but being overruled by his anxious brain.  He’s tired of kissing you, of feeling your desire for more, of pushing down his own desire for more.  He’s tired of cold showers and confusing internet searches and worrying that he’s waited too long to tell you—
He leans forward and kisses you, breaks off his own busy thoughts by slotting his mouth over yours.  It’s an awkward angle at first, the two of you side by side on the couch, but you must feel the dam breaking in him because you twist towards him.  He reaches out a hand and lays it on your hip, and maybe he has little to no experience but it feels like second nature to guide you into his lap until you’re straddling him.
Perched above him, you cup his face between your hands, peer deep into his eyes like you’re trying to read his thoughts.  
“Is this okay, Bobby?” you whisper.  “I don’t want to push my luck, but I really, really, really want you.”
The weight of you in his lap, the swell of your breasts close to his face, the soft scent of your perfume…it’s better than okay.  It’s perfect.  He tells you so.
“I’m not gonna last, honey,” he adds in a whisper.  It’s his greatest fear—coming too soon, disappointing you—but he’s in too deep now.  There’s no turning back towards the shore.
“Hmmm.”  You dip your head and kiss him, and there’s so much promise in it.  You don’t rush it.  You let the moment stretch out, let the kiss linger.  You trace over his lower lip with the tip of your tongue, then nip at him lightly.  When he groans at the sensation, he feels the little huff of silent laughter—which he stops by sliding his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss.
You break away first, then lay a trail of soft kisses across his face and down the side of his neck.  You find the ticklish spot underneath his ear (you’d found it before and remembered where it was) and nip him there, making him squirm underneath you.  You must feel him—he’s already hard, has been perpetually hard since the first month of dating you.  You move in his lap, do a little swivel with your hips.  You grind against him, and it makes him squirm again.
“I’m not gonna…I won’t last,” he repeats, a little breathless, a little dizzy, and you hum again.  You reach up and cup his face again, and you peer into his eyes again with that same sincere expression as before.
“If you don’t last, we can go again.  Hell, Bobby…if you like it, we can go all night.  That’s the beautiful thing about sex.  You don’t last very long?  We wait and then go again.  Or I can show you other things we can do.”
He smooths his hands up your back, down your back, settles them on your waist.  You look so earnest, so eager.  He wonders if you love him.  Neither of you have said it yet, but Bob thinks perhaps you do.  
He knows he certainly loves you.  
“You sure?” he asks.  
“Of course!  It’s time spent together.”  Your earnest expression cedes to a sly smirk.  “You know, time spent together.  Naked.  In bed.  Sounds pretty good to me.”
He’s still anxious, but it’s less now.  It’s giving way to relief, to excitement.  The heavy stone of worry that had been sitting in his gut, in his chest seems to have been replaced by a sudden lightness.
Bob realizes that it’s hope.  This was the first real test of your relationship—him opening up about a painful part of who he is—and you both got through it.  
“Time together,” he murmurs in agreement.  He gets his hands under the heft of you, then stands up with you still in his lap.  You laugh, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he hoists you more securely.
“Let’s find a bed then,” he adds as he carries you towards his bedroom.  “And then we can see about the naked part.”
“I love a man with a plan,” you tease, and though you’ll share your first I love you’s in only a few short hours, this is what he will always count as the first time you say it to him.
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bakubunny · 6 months
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bunny can i beg for daddy izu crumbs if you have any ? whatever you’re feeling (totally can ignore this <3)
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hi starr! no need to beg; i always intend to write some daddy!izu but never get around to it. you’re giving me a valid excuse to indulge that desire and avoid updating my masterlist yet again. gonna go with daddy dom izu & little reader bc that’s where i’m at rn. hope that’s okay. 🖤
here’s a brain dump based loosely off of this drabble. bc i know you’re okay with it: age play themes ahead, mention of caregiver/little (dd/lg), fluff ig?
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i hc daddy izu as one that’s pretty soft; like i could definitely see him being as mean as they come, won’t put up with bratting of any kind, etc., but i could also see him being content with being soft and loving almost all of the time.
that doesn’t mean he’s not rough in bed tho; i think with him it’s a 50/50 mix, and he’ll usually adapt to what you need and enjoy it just as much.
he likes to plan his scenes out well ahead of time, but he can also do things on the fly with enough experience under his belt.
daddy izu enjoys orgasm control - delay, denial, overstim, ruined orgasms, the whole bit. he doesn’t do it all the time bc it’s not his top favorite thing to do with you, but he likes the variety it allows. he can be as nice or as mean as he wants at any given point without having to be harsh, and he knows harsh can be very overwhelming when you’re not expecting it. and more importantly, it’s all based around pleasure, which i believe a softer version of izu would be all for.
not much of a sadist outside of spanking and maybe some impact play. he really only does it if he knows you want (or need) it. he’s a fan of maintenance spankings bc they can be used for a variety of purposes - to keep his sweet thing in check, but also give you regular times to enjoy being a bit of a masochist if that’s important to you to name two.
he’s the kind of dom that’s not like… a jack of all trades? but he can adapt to what you want or need pretty easily with a little research, and he doesn’t have a specific area of interest outside of ddlg in this context? if that makes sense? anyway.
daddy izu has always known he likes to take care of people. he’s a hero, after all. it takes him a while to accept how far that actually goes. he struggles with it. it’s only thanks to the internet that he figures himself out while he’s young (early 20s).
by the time you meet him he understands dd/lg dynamics in theory, but he’s never been in one. heck, he’s not even sure if he wants that or can give that to someone with his status as a pro hero.
but that doesn’t stop him from slipping here and there and showing that side of him, especially when he sees how you melt under his care. he’s pretty sure he’s picking up hints that you might indeed be a little, but he’s way too embarrassed to ask.
izuku the kind of person that pulls the little side out of you when you’re too ashamed to show it. he showers you with sweet encouragement and doesn’t mind how needy you get. tells you, “it’s okay, sweetie. i love how much you need me. don’t ever be sorry for it.”
he feels his heart get warm and fluttery the first time he gets a real taste that his inkling might be right. maybe it’s the way you swing your feet so cutely when he “pampers” you by putting on your socks and shoes, or how you sort of melted into him and got shy that one time he carried you from the car to the bed because you were too tired.
or perhaps it was the most obvious moment, when he caught you watching a kids show, coloring on your own to de-stress. izuku had mixed feelings, ones of warm confirmation and others of pain watching you fold into yourself so quickly. he hated the way you immediately turned the tv off, snapped your coloring book shut, and tried to hide it like you had something to be ashamed of.
so izuku did the only thing he could think to do. he sat down next to you, gave you a kiss, and said, “hey, princess. whatcha got there?”
his smile was bright and kind as ever; he was trying to show curiosity rather than overwhelming excitement. but the look on your face told him you were hesitant.
“nothing, i’m just drawing,” you said. “sorry.”
his heart fell as he gave you a curious look. “no need to be sorry. can i see your drawings? i bet they’re very pretty.”
you tucked your head as heat prickled the apples of your cheeks; his tone of voice had shifted, but you couldn’t quite place it. “izuku, it’s dumb, really. don’t worry about it.”
“none of that. show me how well my girl draws, hmm? i want to see what you made,” izuku replied.
you considered it for a moment. then without looking up, you pulled the book of sanrio characters from your chest and opened to the page you had been working on. heat flooded your face. tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“baby, that’s beautiful! i love it,” he said.
“thanks,” you said softly.
izuku’s enthusiastic response was far from surprising, but what caught you was his tone once again. and it clicked - you’d heard that tone of voice before plenty of times. it was the same one he used when he bent down to talk to small children who ran up to see him. you weren’t sure if you should feel humiliated or if -
“you’re doing such a good job, little one,” he said. “i’m proud of you.”
you froze. you looked to him. though you were on the brink of tears, his smile was still bright, albeit nervous.
“really?” you said.
“yeah! of course i am. do you have another coloring book, sweet pea? i’d love to draw with you.”
you pointed to the black backpack at your feet. izuku pulled out the only hero themed coloring book you had.
“i think this one’s perfect, don’t you?” he asked.
you pulled him in for a tight hug and nodded.
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sloth-babied · 10 months
Text
Stay the Night
Shuri x POC reader
Summary: You’ve been keeping it a secret that Shuri’s been your muse for a lot of your music. When you decide to show her a song you’ve been working on, she starts to piece together who you’ve been writing about.
or
Reader is a musician who stubbornly denies to one of the smartest people on Earth that she isn’t your muse.
Contains: Shy reader, tension, and angst if you really squint. No use of y/n.
Word count: 1.8k
Notes: No, I am not dead! Just burnt out, yk how it is. But I had motivation to write this, so I really hope yall enjoy! Not my best work, but it’s something. And sorry for not being active. 
(Also I recommend listening to The Internet while reading just bc that’s what I listened to, hence the title lol)
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Shuri stares at you as you adjust the headphones on her head, hyper aware of the proximity between the two of you. She only nods when you ask if she’s comfortable before the heel of your palm rests on the desk. Your finger hovers over the computer keyboard, reluctant to press play.
“It’s just a draft, so you know, lower your expectations.”
“Just play the song,” she laughs lightly, very much aware that this was a first draft from the numerous times you told her before even handing her your headphones.
You murmur a quick and sheepish, “Okay,” and click the spacebar. Her shoulders bounce, entertained by your apprehensiveness.
You deeply inhale as your heart starts beating faster, in contrast to Shuri who simply bops her head gently to the rhythm, the ball of her foot tapping the wooden floor.
You rarely showed anyone your early drafts, either out of worry in case they disliked what they heard, or if their enjoyment would jinx your chances of actually finishing the track. Yeah, you can be a bit superstitious—that Shuri knows with all the wood-knocking you’ve done around her.
Which is why it was uncharacteristic of you to show Shuri your latest project. 
It presented itself as an impulsive, “You wanna hear this new song I’m working on?” and you couldn’t take it back when you were met with an enthusiastic ‘yes’.
Shuri’s brows furrow, the movement of her head much more exaggerated. 
“This is good!” She compliments you loudly, tapping on one side of the headphones. You shush her humorously, reminding her of your neighbors and the lack of soundproof foam on your walls. “Sorry,” she chuckles before whispering, “This is good,” again.
It’s mostly dark in the room, the only light source in the room coming from the computer screen. The light reflects on Shuri’s skin, her eyes closed when she isn’t occasionally stealing glances at the side of your face, curious about the words you’ve written; envious of who you’ve written it for, though she’s had hopeful suspicions.
Your eyes stay glued on the screen, too embarrassed to watch the person who was, unbeknownst to her, your muse. 
Truthfully, she had been the subject of many of your songs, released and unreleased, since you first fell in love with her. That was two years ago. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the long day or the present time of night that made the idea of sharing your music more enticing. Or maybe, subconsciously, you had to tell her how you felt without actually telling her.
Shuri hums along to the chorus, naturally catching onto the melody and you scratch your cheek in an attempt to hide your smile. You feel giddy inside at the way her body reacts—just so in-sync like she always is with the rest of your music. 
Until the song hits the bridge. 
Through your peripheral vision, it’s hard to ignore Shuri’s head movement slowing down to a halt. You catch a proper glimpse of her, only for a second, and oh, no, her face has gone blank. You feel your chest heave and now your brain is spiraling, wondering what the hell is going on in hers.
Shuri looks off, really listening this time. She flicks another glance at you before the last chorus arrives. And when it ends, she removes the headphones at a pace that perturbs you a bit…a lot actually. You’re left uneasy when she holds your headphones on her lap. She hasn’t looked at you and she hasn’t said anything yet.
“I know it’s not great,” you scratch the back of your neck then steal the headphones from her, laying them on the desk. Aimlessly, you fumble with your laptop, laughing nervously to fill the silence. “It’s just a draft. I probably won’t even finish it.”
Shuri’s still not saying anything and, christ, is it bothering you. At this point you’d rather she say it’s downright bad instead of keeping you on edge like this. But eventually she speaks, and when you hear her say your name, you initially feel like you could breathe again because she finally said something. However, that only lasts for a second.
“Is this true?” 
Your finger freezes on the mouse. You turn your head in her direction but her gaze doesn’t meet yours. You’re unsure what to say.
“What you wrote…is it true?” 
She takes the mouse from you, the feel of her hand leaving tingles on your skin. She clicks back to the beginning of the bridge before removing the headphone jack. Your voice plays on the speaker and suddenly you’re too stunned to remind her of your neighbors.
What exactly did you write? Nothing specific, or so you thought.
Then she pauses the song, an audible click coming from the spacebar, anticipatedly eyeing you. 
You shrug as an attempt to seem oblivious. (One might call it ‘gaslighting’.) 
“I write little stories for my songs,” you try to play it off. “I mean, I guess some are real, but most of ‘em aren’t, you know?” 
“You wrote about our time at the beach.” She states plainly, leaning back against her chair. She’s referring you to the secret beach you snuck her into in your hometown—a beach only so many people know of.
You glance at the notification-free lock screen of your phone on the desk; another excuse not to look her in the eye. “I take inspiration from shit in my own life.”
“And in your last album you wrote about the time we went on that hike together.” She adds. Yikes, you were hoping she wouldn’t notice that. 
“We’re lost in the woods,
I’m lost in your eyes.”
Damn your corny attempts at being poetic. You nearly cringe recalling the moment you wrote that. 
A year ago you went hiking with Shuri, and you insisted that you didn’t need any technology to navigate your way back home. You figured you’d walk back down the trail you walked up on, until you kept passing the same tree over and over again. Shuri laughed at you the entire time, comforted by the fact that she brought her Kimoyo bead bracelet with her, as you slowly started to freak out despite your refusal to admit you were wrong and maybe a map could’ve been useful.
“I hike all the time.” No, you don’t.
“No, you don’t,” Shuri shakes her head, one side of her lips tilting upwards. She leans forward and grabs the apron of your chair between your legs, rolling you closer to her until her knee hits the edge of your seat and your thighs loosely puzzle together. 
The light from the bright red motel sign across the street peaks through each horizontal slit of the blind curtain, and the cool night breeze outside lightly blows through the half-open window, lifting the curtain only a little, red occasionally sneaking under the bottom hem of the window covering. 
With the wind entering, the room should feel cool. It’s supposed to be. Yet your cheeks flush and the heat centered around your face tempts you to remove your hoodie because it’s easier to blame a jacket than the girl who’s figured you out.
You reattach your hand back on the mouse, unsure what you’d even do with it, but Shuri’s hand covers yours, your moist palm now stagnant on the object. 
“You released a single the year we met,” she says, her voice quieter than before but louder than a whisper. She doesn’t explain further. You remember the party two years ago and you know exactly what you wrote. Who are you to fool one of the most brilliant minds on the planet?
The computer screen dims, allowing you to notice the red illuminating on the back of her hand. You see red highlight the outline of her body and she stares at the red on the edge of your face. Then she looks at your eyes, your lips, then your eyes once again. Shuri slides her palm up to your elbow, her grip neither tight nor loose. 
“What are you so afraid of?” asks Shuri. 
You had spent so much of your romantic life dejected. Countless dating apps resulting in crappy dates. Or worse: friendships. Too many “The more I get to know you, the more I get friendly vibes from you”. Too many “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this,” when really they realized they actually didn’t like you. Then when you knew someone in your own life who you liked romantically, the feeling—more often than not—wasn’t mutual. 
Best case scenario, you remain friends but things are only just a little awkward. Worst case scenario, they insist that things are okay then gradually ghost you. 
At this point, you were ready to give up.
“I don’t wanna…” you trail off.
She leans closer and whispers, “What?”
You stare off at anything that isn’t her. “I don’t wanna lose you.”
She leans down and tilts her face up, forcing your eyes to meet hers. She raises her brows. “Because…?”
You tuck your chin and your brows quirk. “Because?”
“I want you to tell me why you’re afraid of losing me,” she places her other hand on your armrest, trapping you, and you start stammering. “Since you do it so well in your songs.”
You can’t get anything out, though she doesn’t look away. You feel stuck, considering the numerous things you could tell her. Alternatively, you sigh. Fuck it. 
“I think I’ve told you enough,” you inhale, cupping one hand on her jaw and the other on the back of her neck before you firmly kiss her. Shuri lets out a muffled noise before reciprocating. 
And you both think, Finally.
Her body starts to sway backwards as you press against her, however she pushes you back against your chair. Her hands grab the sides of your face—one hand under your hood and the other over—refusing to let go now that she’s on her feet. Her upper body bends down just so her lips can live on yours, and a chuckle escapes both of you when your chair rolls backwards, almost hitting the wall behind you.
Admittedly, you enjoy sitting as she envelops your lips, but you decide to stand. Your hands slide down to her waist as you slowly walk her backwards until her legs meet the edge of your bed and she ends up landing on her bottom with her elbows supporting her weight as she gazes up at you, several red horizontal lines covering her body.
God, you can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe Shuri wants you as much as you want her. Everything feels…unreal. Dream-like.
“Come here,” she pulls your wrist and you land on top of her. The bed bounces beneath you as her hand slithers up to your neck, drawing you in for a chaste kiss. She catches you in your thoughts. “You okay?” Is this okay? 
You nod, still admiring her below you. You whisper, “I didn’t think you’d…pay attention. To what I wrote. I didn’t know you were listening like that.”
Shuri caresses your neck with her thumb. She takes note of the neon blue light illuminating half of your face from a bar sign also across the street, below the motel sign. 
She kisses your cheek, your chin, then your lips once again. “I’ll always listen to you.”
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halfmoondaze · 2 years
Note
I was thinking maybe Jack and sweetheart reader are at some event and some random influencer been tryna start beef with reader on the internet. Reader doesn’t know her and hasn’t responded because it’s not her character. Jack would be so protective. 💕
Protective Jack
Trigger warning: mentions of body shaming
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“I’ve never met the girl, she seems nice...but I just don’t feel like she’s a good role model”
Hannah Walton, who was the current beloved social media personality, mostly known for her quirky dances on Tik Tok, was being interviewed in the Fresh & Fit podcast.
“How is that?”
“I just…you know, anorexia is a dangerous thing and I think it is disgusting for someone to promote that as the ideal body standard. I’m sorry but looking like a skeleton is not cute”
The interviewer giggled at her response.
Then she quickly added “I’m sorry, but curves are sexy, sticks aren’t”
“You know she’s dating Jack Harlow, right?” the other interviewer commented.
“Is she?” she asked followed by laughing again. “No, I didn’t know. I thought he was more into women who had something to grab onto…..Good for her I guess”
“Well, back to your collab with Fashion Nova…”
It wasn’t long before Y/N found herself tagged in a bunch of posts regarding Hannah Walton’s comments. At first, she was confused, and ultimately, her anxiety was at an all-time high at the thought that she had now become the current laughingstock on social media.
Jack, was set to not be back home until late at night and found himself walking through their shared apartment front door at 1 pm, which took Y/N by surprise.
Y/N and Jack have been dating more a little more than a year now, and even though they were private about their relationship, Jack has made the public and fans know he was in a relationship with Y/N, who was a visual artist. Because of her anxiety, she wasn’t into the idea of being in the public eye, but she wanted to be in a relationship with Jack without feeling he was hiding her. And Jack was supportive of her, which is why since then for the first time he would let it be known he was with Y/N without getting into too many details about her life.
The news of Jack no longer being single came as a shock to everyone, given that to the public, he didn’t seem the type to be in a serious relationship, and with that came a lot of support and some hate.
Jack who was set to not be back from the studio until late at night, found himself walking through the front door of their shared apartment around 1 pm.
“Y/N?” he called out for her.
He could hear in the distance the sound of the tv, and as he approached the living room, he found Y/N wrapped in a throw blanket, lying on the couch scrolling through her phone while the TV played in the distance.
“Hey” he softly said taking a seat by the edge of the couch.
She was currently going through her Tik Tok, attempting to escape all the drama from Twitter, but as soon as she noticed him, she discarded her phone somewhere on the couch smiling at him.
“Hey, I thought you were going to be at the studio for a while”
“I was, but I wanted to check on you” he paused. “Is she the same girl who kept running her mouth about you on Twitter?”
“How did you know about that?”
“Fans kept me posted”
“It’s so embarrassing…” she said looking away.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. None of the things she said were true”
“I know, but I just can't deal with the hate…I just don’t know how you do it sometimes”
“Well, it would surprise you to know not all of the comments are hateful”
Y/N looked at him confused.
“See it for yourself” he said as he handed her his phone.
Upon taking a look, she became overwhelmed by all the supportive comments from fans, and other celebrities standing up to her.
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Right in that moment, she felt so grateful for everyone's support, but overall, she felt so loved and appreciated for having Jack by her side and she wouldnt have it any other way.
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sehodreams · 5 months
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RIIZE AS TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS
Hey guys, so I saw @///gyuvision doing this and I thought it was the cutest thing ever, she did it so well I couldn't stop thinking about them when I heard music, to be honest I wanted to assign an era to each one but I couldn't decide (except Shotaro, he's definitely 1989, and Anton, he's Lover), so if you like it I’ll try to do that one.
These are songs that make me think about each member when I listen to them, I had so much fun doing this, hope you all enjoy it too!
TW and tags: fluff (?), a bit of toxic!Eunseok, a touch of angst, mentions of first time with Anton but nothing explicit (by the way they’re 18/19), fwb(?)!Wonbin.
WC: 2.1K
Note: This is not dark at all, if you don’t like that kind of content, I don’t recommend you visit my blog.
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SEUNGHAN - The Archer
He's been so hurt, and it's even more painful because the people who have been trying to sabotage him are mostly friends, ‘cause all of my enemies started as friends, this song always makes me think of him, and how vulnerable he must feel seeing pictures of his past all around the internet, ‘cause they see right through me, can you see right through me? I see right through me, also, how much he must have felt responsible for the group's reputation, scared of being an obstacle to all the boys and regretting his past, I never grew up, it's getting so old, I'm sure he'll always remember these hard times, I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, on invisible smoke, but I hope he learns how to be stronger from this and comes back safely to the group with the same, or a better, energy, combat, I'm ready for combat.
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EUNSEOK - False God
Eunseok would give you the most intense love story of your life, with an energy that makes you forget about anything else that isn't him and you two together, I know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey hell is when I fight with you, however, I don’t think it’s a love that would last forever, you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it, they all warned us about times like this, they say the roads get hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith, and it doesn’t necessarily ends because you two don’t love each other anymore, but because of life circumstances and personalities, and I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town, still, a love like the one you two had was impossible to get over, it doesn’t matter how much you two have tried it, you want to be together again, but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you, but you're not good for each other anymore, and you can’t talk to me when I’m like this, daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you, so it becomes unstable, hard to maintain, a secret embarrassing to say out loud to others, but we might just get away with it, religion’s in your lips even if it’s a false god, at least, you two feel satisfied with what you have, because the thought of not being together is more painful than proudly living alone, we’d still worship this love, still worship this love, even if it’s a false god.
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SUNGCHAN - You Belong With Me
Sungchan makes me think of friends-to-lovers and mutual pinning, knowing each other all life, you two had to be friends first to start having feelings for each other, I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry, and I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams, but not daring to ruin your friendship, you try to forget it being with other people, hurting each other in the process, If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see?, both of you have unfulfilling relationships with people you don’t love and that do not love you, and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down, you say you're fine, I know you better than that, you two know it’s not going to work out because you two need each other to feel really happy, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be, laughing on a park bench thinking to myself ‘’Hey, isn't this easy?’’, so after much time, none of you can deny what you feel anymore, have you ever thought, just maybe, you belong with me?
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SHOTARO - Shake It Off
My sweet boy reminds me of this song because he always brings positivity to whenever he is, But I keep cruising, can’t stop, won’t stop grooving, it’s like I got this music in my mind sayin’, ‘’It’s gonna be alright’’, his pretty smile makes you smile too, and even when the others say he can be scary while dancing, he works hard because he wants to give people the best out of him, and his skills are not just from talent, but from effort and passion, I never miss a beat, I’m lightnin’ on my feet, and that’s what they don’t see, he’s actually a pretty brave boy, grabbing every opportunity that appeared in front of him, following his love for dance and moving alone to Korea, I’m dancin’ on my own, I make the moves up as I go, and that’s what they don’t know, he got to work with NCT to then go to Riize, a risky decision that maybe wasn’t a choice to start, just think, while you’ve been getting’ down and out about the liars, and the dirty dirty cheats of the world, you could’ve been getting’ down to this sick beat, he's a strong boy, and doesn’t matter the obstacles that he sees, he’ll always overcome them and appreciate the process, ‘cause the players gonna play, and the haters gonna hate, baby I’m just gonna shake, shake it off, I shake it off.
Extra: And to the fella over there with the hella good hair, won’t you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake, is Shotaro calling Wonbin to dance together, lol.
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SOHEE – Fearless
We all know the comments about Sohee growing up in a family that wasn’t as well positioned economically as the other members, I don’t want to confirm it, but taking that into mind, it makes me think that he comes from a place that, if he hadn’t worked so hard, would have made his dream stay just like that, a dream, there’s something about the way the street looks when it’s just rained, there’s a glow off the pavement, and that, apart from liking to sing, his dream of being a start was pushed by himself with the goal of helping his family get a better life, we’re drivin down the road, I wonder if you know I’m trying so hard not to get caught up now, but you’re so cool, run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you, always remembering where he comes from and all the support he had, he has values not many do, in this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here, in this passenger’s seat, you put your eyes on me, in this moment now, capture it, remember it, he already met his first goal, debuting, and he’s slowly getting used to a different lifestyle, you pull me in and I’m a little more brave, it’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something, it’s fearless, he took a hard decision for anyone in his circumstances and he’s finally seeing results, but he doesn’t take it for granted and continues working hard every day, ‘cause I don’t know how it gets better than this, you take my hand and drag me head first, fearless, showing how courageous he is and how he’ll never stop improving, because fear is not an impediment for him, and I don’t know why but with you, I’d dance, in a storm in my best dress, fearless.
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ANTON - Cruel Summer
Anton is summer love, seeing each other again after many years, you two can’t remember how you used to look when you were younger, enjoying meeting as if it was the first time again, but this time, you can’t just be friends anymore, killing me slow, out the window, I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below, doing new things, things you never imagined before, you enjoy exploring a different side of yourself, devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, tanned skin, friendship bracelets, the ocean and ice creams in the middle of the night, everything is pure pleasure around you two, what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more, everyone tells you to be careful, because summer will have an end, and you know it, so you decide to get the best out of it, sneaking out and having as many experiences together as possible, It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em, no rules, in breakable heaven, stealing cheap beers and whisky from your parents to then get sick because you two are too young to know how to hold your liquor, I’m drunk in the back of the car, and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar, you don’t want to admit it, but you think you’re the one who is more in love between you two, which hurts, said, ‘’I’m fine’’, but it wasn’t true, I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you, you believe you’re the one who is making most of the effort, risking things you never thought you’d before, and I snuck in through the garden gate, every night that summer just to seal my fate, and you thought he didn’t know about your feelings, but of course he did, who else would give as many things as you did? and I screamed for whatever is worth, ‘’I love you’’, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?, however, to your surprise, you find out you weren’t the one who was more in love, he looks up grinning like a devil, and, even if it ends, you two give each other all the first times anyone could ever wish, and It’s new, the shape of your body, so it’s cruel, but it’s the best summer, it’s blue, the feeling I’ve got, and it’s ooh, whoa, oh it’s a cruel summer.
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WONBIN - I Think He Knows
Falling for Wonbin is easy, he draws people to him without even trying, so of course you’re one of his victims too, his footprints on the sidewalk lead to where I can’t stop, go there every night, just to have him near you was enough to enchant you, following him with your eyes all night, you can’t help but go to him, his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine, you’re the one who has to start the interaction, and even if you weren’t used to it, you did it, pushing the fear of rejection aside, seeing a man like him was unusual, and you had to shoot your shot, he got that boyish look that I like in a man, it wasn’t as hard as you thought, with confidence, and a weak strategy, you caught his attention too, I am an architect, I’m drawing up the plans, a bit awkward at first, you being the one getting close first made you feel like a young kid running behind her crush again, it’s like I’m 17, nobody understands, no one understands, but you liked it, the nervous eyes, the heart beating, the hands sweating, it was something exciting that reminded you of good times, he got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue, but you weren’t a child anymore, that interaction wouldn’t end with you two holding hands, and with him reciprocating the energy, you felt it coming, got that, ah, I mean, wanna see what’s under that attitude, like, I want you, bless my soul, and I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows, and unlike the meeting, the touches weren’t awkward at all, both of you perfectly knowing what to do to satisfy each other, when we get all alone, I’ll make myself at home, and he’ll want me to stay, but you knew his type, and he knew yours, or so he thought, because after a couple of meetings and getting to know the real you, I think he knows he’d better lock it down or I won’t stick around, ‘cause good ones never wait, he didn’t want to let you go anymore, he’s so obsessed with me and boy I understand, boy I understand, he was new to approaching someone, always being the approached one, but again, with a bit of your help, everything was possible, lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we could follow the sparks, I’ll drive, and just like falling for him, being with him was easy too, because after you showed him the path, he knew what to do, ‘’So where we gonna go?’’ I whisper in the dark, ‘’Where we gonna go?’’ I think he knows.
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