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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 months

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Sharing a Bed

SUMMARY: When they built the bungalow, they couldn't make an individual bedroom for each person. Or a bed for each person. So, they'll have to choose the person with whom they will share the room... and the bed. And the boy you're secretly dating ends up paired up with you in one of those beds.

CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Ace Trappola; Jack Howl; Azul Ashengrotto; Floyd Leech; Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Beginning of Relationship

WARNING: Spoilers from Stitch's Tropical Turbulence (JP: Lost in the Book with Stitch ~Midsummer Sea and Spaceship~)

WORD COUNT: An average of 920 words per character.

COMMENTS: Okay, after reading it a second time, what I think Jack meant was: Since they couldn't make individual rooms for everyone, they made one living room big enough for everyone instead. But that's not what I understood the first time, and the way I understood it was more interesting for me to write something about :3

CONTEXT: You two are at the beginning of your relationship and no one knows. Let's also say that Floyd didn't use the back door for the bonfire.

They couldn't make individual rooms in the Bungalow or single beds. They only got materials to make 3 beds big enough for 2 people to sleep in each. And 3 bedrooms where they placed each of the beds. Which meant that 6 people could sleep in pairs on the beds, Grim and Stitch were small enough to sleep well on the couch/armchairs and 1 person had to sleep in the living room with them, maybe on the couch too. And someone comments about you and Grim being a package deal.

Riddle was the first to say that you shouldn't sleep on the couch just because you usually sleep in the same room as Grim.

You should sleep in a bed and, like the gentleman he is, he offered to sleep on the couch instead, more concerned with your well-being than with the possible jealousy he could feel depending on who you slept next to.

“Objection!” Lilia said playfully. Riddle looked at him in surprise. “I should be the one sleeping on the couch. After all, I can easily sleep in a cave and I'm small enough to fit comfortably on the couch. You guys should have the beds. A good night's sleep is important for growth.” He smiled. Riddle may or may not realize it, but Lilia did this mostly for the two of you.

“So how do we divide ourselves between the beds?” Jack asked.

“Firstly, you shouldn't sleep with people you don't feel comfortable with.” Riddle said. He, Jack, and Ace looked mostly at Floyd, but also at Azul.

“Those looks directed at us after such advice are quite hurtful.” Azul says with his performative sadness. “But, Riddle, can I ask why you said you instead of us?” he asks with a smirk.

Riddle couldn't hide his caught reaction. And he's not the type to make excuses, so he was sincere: “In fact, that slipped from me.” he said, slightly blushing “The truth is, I hoped I could be paired with [Y/N].” he looks at you “If you're comfortable with that too, of course.”

You say that you are, and with two shy smiles directed at each other, your pair is decided. The other pairs were Ace with Jack and Azul with Floyd. Both Jack and Ace didn't want to be with either of the other two and Ace used the excuse that Azul and Floyd had known each other for a long time to justify the pairings.

❤️ Bungalow - Yours and Riddle's Bedroom ❤️

He let you in first and closed the door behind him. When you look at him, you realize that he is thinking about something, something that troubles or bothers him. You ask if everything is okay.

“I... I know I was the one who invited you to share the room with me... but...” You ask sadly if he wanted to exchange with someone else. “No, no, no! It’s not that. I will always choose you. I even did it without thinking... and maybe that was the problem... I...” he blushed a little. “I didn't want you... to sleep with anyone else. Although at first I offered to sleep on the sofa, which would consequently mean that you would have to share the bed with someone other than me. *Sigh* Why can't I think straight?” he whispers to himself. “Sorry, I'm straying from the initial question. What bothers me is... I'm sure I'm breaking a rule.”

You ask what rule. You wonder if it could be any Heartslabyul rule? Or maybe from the Queendom of Roses? Or could it be...?

“I think it would fit into a rule of etiquette. My mother is completely against this. We are no longer mere acquaintances, or just friends. These types of things cannot happen before...”

“Marriage?” You ask. He blushes again.

“I know it's too early and we're too young to talk about this but... yes...” You say that if he feels more comfortable swapping with someone else... “NO! That's out of the question! I'm not going to force you to sleep on a sofa and WHOEVER SLEEPS WITH YOU I WILL HAVE THEIR-!” He stutter, and clear his throat. “I mean... this is the best option.” He's embarrassed for shouting in front of you. “My apologies for that.”

You reassure him that it is okay. He wasn't yelling AT you and you know he's still learning to control his anger. You say that all rules have exceptions, and in cases like these, on a desert island where it is already lucky that there are beds, perhaps they are exceptions to certain rules. Sometimes the rules of survival override the rules of etiquette. Maybe if he thinks he's not breaking a rule, but following its exception.

He thinks for a moment “You are right. If we think about it this way, it is also against the rules of etiquette to eat with your hands, but it is foolish to try to impose it when there are no conditions for it. Yes, you are right, we must prioritize our well-being and health.” There's a cute and awkward pause “Um, do you have a preference for the side?”

If you have a preference, he will sleep on the other side, if not and one side is closer to the door, he will sleep on that side. If you ask why this choice, he will say that the most protective person in the relationship is often on the side closest to the door in order to be able to protect their significant other against intruders.

As soon as you lie down and get ready for bed, you might be surprised by how naturally Riddle kisses you on the cheek. “Good night, my rose.” If you look at him, you will see a sweet smile and caring eyes looking back at you.

If you want to return the kiss you can do it on his cheek as well. Lips are still reserved for special occasions only. And he'll press his forehead to yours, your noses almost touching for a moment before you finally turn over to sleep. And if you open your eyes while he's doing it, you'll see the loving glow in his eyes.

You begin to sleep separately and perhaps even in different directions, but sleep and dreams are revealing. Eventually you will begin to unconsciously move closer to each other, until he has his arms around you and your head is resting close to his chest.

If you wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of one of Gantu's robots outside, Riddle won't even process the fact that you're suddenly so close. He goes straight from sleepy mode to protective mode on instinct. His gaze will be completely focused on the closed window and you will feel his arms moving you closer to him. If you make a sound, he'll put a finger to your mouth and whisper a calm shh.

Only after the robot leaves will he realize how he is hugging you. His face will immediately turn red from the blushing and he will move slightly away from you apologizing.

If you show yourself comfortable being so close to him and even more protected, he will end up giving in and letting you continue sleeping together as you were. You will definitely hear his heart beating fast until he finally manages to relax and fall asleep again.

After that, you will start to get used to sleeping like this. He will always wake up before you and wake you up with a kiss on the forehead. “Good morning~ Did you sleep well?”

“Hey, [Y/N] shouldn't stay on the couch just because Grim is going to be in the living room.” Ace says. “At least it doesn't seem fair to me.” he looks at Riddle hoping he would share the same opinion.

“Surprisingly I have to agree with Ace.” Riddle says.

“See? Wait... what do you mean surprisingly?”

“The person who will sleep on the sofa” Riddle continues, ignoring Ace's observation. “should be chosen taking into account who is least likely to have problems sleeping well on it compared to others. This also includes not having a stature too large to fit.”

Everyone looked at Lilia. Who looked behind him as a joke.

“Kehehe. Of course, I have no problem sleeping on the couch. It even looks quite cozy from my point of view. Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled, Stitch smiled back and Grim said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.

“So who will be the pairs for the beds?” Floyd asked. “Hey kingyo-chan~ do you want to stay with me?”

“I'd rather sleep on the floor.” Riddle answers. Floyd laughs because he already predicted that.

“Dibs on pairing with [Y/N]!” Ace hurried to say.

“Aw, koebi-chan was my next choice.” Floyd comments.

Seeing his options, Riddle asks if Jack would mind pairing with him. As Jack respects him a lot, he says he doesn't mind and his tail starts to wag, slightly honored that Riddle shows some trust in him. Azul and Floyd end up paired up with each other.

❤️ Bungalow - Yours and Ace's Bedroom ❤️

As soon as you two enter the room and Ace closes the door, he picks you up playfully. And he even tells you not to make any noise as he laughs softly. He takes a few steps and lays you down on the bed.

“So, do you have a favourite side or do I choose?” You or he chooses sides and you lie down. “Ahh~ Finally something that isn't the floor of a cave to sleep in~” he says next to you.

And then you remember something: It wasn't the first time Ace suggested you two sleep in the same bed. The first time was when the riddle locked a collar around he's neck for the first time and he had to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. And the second was when Azul got Ramshackle Dorm and you had to find another dorm to sleep in. Before going to Savanaclaw, Ace suggested you sleep with him when they commented that Heartslabyul didn't have extra beds. So you comment that he finally got the sleepover he wanted so much.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” He asks. You remind him about the first time he came to sleep in your dorm. “Well, in that case I just didn't want to sleep on the couch. But you made me sleep in it anyway.” he looks at you with a sulking face, and then a smirk. “You know, now that I think about it, maybe I should have let you sleep on the couch. So we were even.”

Then you ask why he didn't try to do that when you were left without your dorm. That was the second time he suggested sharing a bed. And you caught him by surprise for a second.

“Hmm... well... Do you think the Housewarden would let that happen? I can even imagine myself losing my mind over the audacity of being so rude to a visitor. Or Queen of Hearts knows what dorm rule that would break.”

If you remembered correctly, he suggested sharing a bed AFTER Jack offered to shelter you in Savanaclaw.

“And yet you chose Savanaclaw.” he sulks cutely again. “And slept in Leona's room.” he murmured.

You say something like: “Aw, is this jealousy~?” And he rolls over, facing away from you. You get closer to him, saying that he doesn't need to be jealous, and nothing happened, Leona also only did that because he was forced in a way and you needed a place to stay.

“That's why I slept with Deuce.” He tells you. You exclaim a surprised "WHAT?!" and he turns to grab you and make you lie down clinging to him.

“Got ya!” he laughs. “And keep your voice down, remember?” He whispers. “You really fall for it? Ha ha. You should know me better than this.”

He yawns, which makes you yawn too.

“I'm really tired. We should just sleep. You don't mind if we sleep like this, do you~?”

They complained about the heat outside , but inside the bungalow, at night, it's actually a little cool. So it's kinda comfortable to sleep almost hugging each other. So no, you don't mind. Quite the opposite. He kiss you good night, and you two fall asleep.

In the following nights, there are chances that you two make out a little there before going to sleep, if your not too tired. He will never wake up grumpy, because every time he hears the sound of the waves and sees you lying next to him, he realizes that this is the best vacation ever.

Jack wasted no time in speaking his mind: “I don't think [Y/N] should sleep on the couch just because Grim is staying in the living room.”

“Fufufu... Why? Do you think [Y/N] should sleep with you instead?” Lilia asked with a smirk to tease him.

Jack blushed a lot! “Wha-! NO! That wasn't why-” He put his hand on the back of his head. “I mean, I wouldn't mind, but I was just thinking that it's not fair for them to sleep on the couch just because of Grim. We should take into consideration whether [Y/N] have trouble falling asleep here or not.”

“I agree with Jack” Riddle said. “In fact, we must take into account each person's needs in something as important as rest. I believe you would agree as well, Lilia.”

“Yes, you boys are right.” Lilia said with a smile. “In that case, I volunteer to stay on the couch. From what I saw in the cave, I'm the one who has the least problems sleeping.”

“Mendako-chan could sleep on a battlefield, hehehe.” Floyd comments. Lilia also laughs at this observation.

“So...” Jack turns to you, still slightly blushing. “Now that you don't have to sleep on the couch, would you like to pairing with me?” As soon as you say yes, or whisper something like "of course, silly" his tail starts wagging.

“Well, we already know who the first pair for the beds is.” Lilia comments when he sees Jack's tail moving wildly from side to side. He tries to make it stop and you see his ears lower in embarrassment.

Seeing his options, Riddle asks if Ace would mind pairing with him. And also analyzing his options, Ace says he doesn't mind. They are even from the same dorm, maybe it would even be better to pair up like that, you know? Being in the same dorm, people are more comfortable with each other, right? (They got it, Ace)

💛 Bungalow - Yours and Jack's Bedroom 💛

As soon as the two of you enter the room and Jack closes the door, he will ask if you have a preference for which side of the bed you sleep on. When you look at him, you see that he is still trying to contain the wagging of his tail. You remind him that he doesn't need to do that when it's just the two of you.

“Oh!, Ya, force of habit I guess.” And so he lets his tail wag freely. Fortunately there is no furniture or objects that it can hit.

If you have a preference for the side of the bed you want to sleep on, he will sleep on the other side, if not and one side is closer to the door, he will sleep on that side. If you ask why this choice, he will say that he heard that the most protective person in the relationship is often on the side closest to the door in order to be able to protect their significant other against intruders.

“I feel like the weather gets cooler now at night. That’s good.” Jack comments.

In fact, it's nice to rest with cool nights after spending active days in the heat of the beach, and you tell him something like this.

“Y-ya. That to...” He rubs the back of his neck, and you ask what he was thinking then. “Well, I was thinking... about this wolf thing...” he blushes a little “I think you've already noticed that, like wolves, wolf beastmen couples are also quite affectionate.” He can’t look at you right now because he can feel the way you’re looking at him. And so, looking at you will only make him blush even more. “And there's this thing...” he inhales to gain more courage to speak and sighs. “We like to cuddle and sleep together ok...” This is very difficult to admit for a Tsundere at the beginning of a relationship, especially for someone who is not a beast(wo)man.

You probably laugh at how cute he looks when he's so flustered. You ask if that's why he's happy that it getting colder at night. Because if it was too hot you wouldn't be able to sleep cuddled together. He confirms.

“From your laugh and smile, can I guess that you would like that too?” He smiles confidently, his tail wagging.

You open your arms showing that you do, and he wastes no time in hugging you and laying you down in bed with him. He also doesn't wait to start caressing your face with his nose and giving you soft kisses on your cheeks. He tries to control his tail so it doesn't hit anything and make noise.

The first time he kisses your lips will be to say goodnight, but if he's not tired enough yet, this won't be the only goodnight kiss before you fall asleep in each other's arms.

He will always be the first to wake up and wake you up. You will always wake up with his arms around you and a passionate kiss on your cheek. And with him always trying to convince you to get up and not be tempted to stay in bed late. He wants to spend another day with you, for as long as possible.

“Oh, poor [Y/N]” Azul comments. “Being forced to sleep on the couch just because of their companion. That doesn't seem like a very fair deal to me.” He says with a smirk.

“Despite the tone of moral superiority, Azul is right.” Riddle says. “It's not like Grim needs someone to watch over him at night. Or so I hope.”

“Of course not! I'm not a baby!” Grim complains. “I can sleep in a separate room from [Y/N]. The question is: can my hench-human sleep away from me?”

“Ah, I believe [Y/N] will certainly be in good company.” Azul comments, and before anyone could question what he had just said, he continued. “The person who will sleep on the couch should be chosen taking into account who is least likely to have problems sleeping well on it compared to others. This also includes having a physical size that makes them feel comfortable on a couch.”

Everyone looked at Lilia. Who looked behind him as a joke.

“So who will be the pairs for the beds?” Floyd asked. “Hey kingyo-chan~ do you want to stay with me?”

“I'd rather sleep on the floor.” Riddle answers. Floyd laughs because he already predicted that.

“Well, in that case. Koebi-chan~?”

“Sorry Floyd, but I don't think so.” Azul answers, with a smile but a cunning look.

“Oh ya?” Floyd was also smiling with cunning eyes. “And why don't you let Koebi-chan answer for themself?”

“For sure. I was just trying to soften your rejection.” He gives Floyd one last smug smile before turning to you. “Tell me [Y/N], would you like to sleep next to Floyd or next to me?” You reply that you would like to sleep next to Azul.

“He he. I already knew it.” Floyd says with a genuinely amused expression. “I just wanted to see how Azul would react.” And before anyone could question those phrases, he turns to the other three and asks: “So what will the other pairs be?” With a smile knowing that he is creating a fun chaos.

Riddle, Ace and Jack look at each other. One of them will have to share a bed with Floyd.

“Ace!” Riddle says. “You should be the one paired with Floyd.”

“Wha-?! Why me?!”

“Because firstly, the bed wouldn't have much free space if either of you were paired with Jack. And secondly, you and Floyd are basketball teammates, you must get along well enough right?”

“You just don't want to be the one to pair with him and because you're my Housewarden you're ordering-” He stopped when he saw Riddle starting to get angry. “I mean, yes, of course, those are excellent arguments. You're absolutely right, Housewarden!”

Meanwhile, Floyd laughs with amusement.

💜 Bungalow - Yours and Azul's Bedroom 💜

Azul enters after you and closes the door. He sighs when he sees how simple the room is. “If we weren't in these circumstances, I would have found a luxury resort for us.”

You tell him that he has nothing to worry about, that despite everything, the others managed to make the room cozy and pleasant. And what matters most to you is being in it with him. He smiles, puts one hand on your waist and caresses your cheek with the other.

“Always seeing the bright side, my pearl.” He gives you a tender kiss on the lips. “Now, tell me, do you have a preference for the side of the bed where you would like to sleep?”

You lie down side by side.

“I am so glad we get to sleep under a proper roof tonight.”

“Azul...” You ask. “Would you really leave us on the island if none of us made a deal with you?”

“Of course not, darling.” He turns on himself to face you. “But I'm a businessman. And what kind would I be if I didn't take advantage of any business opportunity?”

You make a muffled sound, not liking his response that much. He comes closer to you. “I wouldn't do anything like I used to, I promise. Maybe I'd only have them working at Mostro Lounge for a week or so. And no anemones on their heads to force them to obey me, I swear.” He was smiling slyly saying this.

You look away from him, rolling your eyes. “I repented.” With a gentle finger on your chin he makes you look at him again, he looks into your eyes lovingly. “Seen the light, made a switch. I would never leave you on a desert island. Even if I had to turn you into a merfolk to do so.” He smiled. “I wonder how you would look like.”

“And the others?” You ask.

“Hum? I wasn't thinking about them, but I'm also curious to know what they would be like in mer-form, yes.” He answewrs. You laugh and say no,that that wasn't what you were asking. He sighs. “Fine, fine... I wouldn't leave any of them on a desert island.” He says, partly in admission, partly to make you happy.

But then his smile fades for a moment. He caresses your face again.

“I hope you're not like that with everyone. Not everyone deserves such benevolence. You and your tender disposition will only be taken advantage if you let them.” You could see the concern in his eyes.

You assure him that you know it, and that you're not like that with everyone. They were your friends, it was different and he knew it. He smiles fondly.

“I wonder what kind of deal we made to have someone like you in our lives. And mainly...” He brings his lips closer to yours. “...what I did to have you for myself.” and you kiss.

You will always wake up with his arms around you. You're between him and the window because he's going to use you to hide his face from the light while he's in the process of waking up. But as soon as he's more awake, he'll kiss you good morning and start the day with you.

“Koebi-chan and I pair up to sleep in one of the beds. Now you guys fight to see who gets to stay on the couch.” Floyd decides with an amused smile, completely ignoring any comments about you usually sleeping in the same room as Grim.

“HOLD ON!” Riddle says. “You can't just decide something like that without the other person's consent!”

The truth is that since you were dating, Floyd assumes that you would like to take advantage of that opportunity to share a room with him. But since no one else knows about it yet, he plays along. He also likes that your relationship is still a secret to see the confusion on other people's faces in situations like these.

“Okay~ Hey Koebi-chan, do you want to share the room with me~?”

You say yes, clearly of your own free will, which reassures Riddle and the others. And in that case, they will have to decide the pairs for the beds and who sleeps on the couch.

Ace suggests choosing at random, like whoever draws the shortest straw stays on the couch, and Azul is the first to go against this suggestion. Riddle is the second.

“I volunteer to stay on the couch.” Lilia said with a smile. “From what I saw in the cave, I'm the one who has the least problems sleeping.”

“Mendako-chan could sleep on a battlefield, hehehe.” Floyd comments. Lilia also laughs at this observation.

“Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled at Stitch, who smiled back, and at Grim, who said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.

Of all three, Riddle was the least uncomfortable pairing with Azul. So they formed a pair and the other two freshmen formed another.

💜 Bungalow - Yours and Floyd's Bedroom 💜

You two enter the room, Floyd closes the door and goes directly to lie down on the bed. Taking up the whole bed.

“So, what do you think of our room? Pretty cool, han?” In fact, the room was decorated with very beautiful, sparkling seashells. They were all sorts of colors: orange, red, purple, green, pink, white. And they look like painted porcelain.

“So you also like dead shellfish?” He says. “Kingyo-chan and Uni-chan too. They were fawning over these shells when we found this spot. It was fun to see their faces when most of the shells they had collected started moving on their own. They had picked up hermit crabs without realizing it. I told them to leave the pretty spiral ones alone and pick out the flat, practical ones to use them as plates. And when we were working on the bungalow I went to where they had left the shells and used them to decorate the room. Just a warning, don't scream too loud if one of these corpses is still alive and pokes your leg at night~”

He laughs looking at your reaction. “Exciting, isn't it?” You complain, saying you want to sleep peacefully. “Fine, fine, I was just kidding. Do you think I don't know how to tell the difference between seashells?” You say that, precisely for this reason, he could put a hermit crab in your room on purpose. “Hahahaha. You know me too well, Koebi-chan. But nah, that crab could poke me at night and I don't want that either.”

You were still standing, looking at him with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish taking up the entire bed.

“Won't you go to lie down with me?” He asks with a smirk.

“Where?” you ask “You're taking up the whole bed.”

“Here!” He attacks you with a hug and forces you to lie down in his arms. He squeezes you affectionately, and without hurting you, of course. He yawns. “And? Where is my reward for making such a pretty room for us~?” He asks with inviting lips very close to yours.

You kiss him and feel him reciprocating lazily, but sweetly.

“And for being one of the people who built the bungalow?” You kiss him again. “And for making such a good dinner?” and again. “And the bonfire was also a good idea, wasn't it?” and again “And didn't ya like my music?” and he will continue to remind you of things for you to pay him back with kisses until he simply gets tired and you two just make out until you fall asleep.

When he wakes up in a good mood and excited about the day, he can pick you up and force you to get up too. If he wakes up feeling sleepy and wants to stay in bed longer, he won't take his arms away from you, forcing you to continue being his bodypillow until he's in the mood to get up.

And that someone who commented about you and Grim being a package deal was none other than Lilia himself. And yes, you were shocked. Was he going to miss an opportunity like this?

And unfortunately for you, everyone agreed. You even fit well on the couch. And during that whole time Lilia had his usual smile as if nothing had happened.

“So who will be the pairs for the beds then?” Floyd asked.

“Why don't the two of us pair up, Floyd?” Lilia suggested “I'm sure it will be fun.”

“Okay~”

Everyone else looks relieved, even Azul. And while the remaining four decided on their pairings, you looked at Lilia for a moment. And, knowing that no one else was looking at you two, his smile became sly, he winked at you and put on his innocent smile back again.

The pairs ended up being Azul and Riddle, and Ace and Jack, since neither of these two wanted to be paired with Azul and, despite everything, Riddle didn't mind.

That night, you lie down on the couch. Both Grim and Stitch curl up to sleep. You curl up to get comfortable and close your eyes to fall asleep.

You had already fallen asleep when you felt something touch your nose and a familiar voice whispering "Boop". You open your eyes and see Lilia lying next to you, smiling. Wait... lying on your side? But the couch doesn't have that much space. Your vision adapts and you see that you are no longer on the couch, but on the bed in one of the rooms.

💚 Bungalow - Yours and Lilia's Bedroom 💚

“Fufufu. Surprised?” He could see that in your face.

You ask him how, what, when...? He laughs.

“I knew that none of them would want to sleep on the sofa, and that the chances of me being chosen to sleep on it, if we got to that point, were too high for I had an easier time sleeping wherever it was.” His look becomes sly, like the one he gave you while the others were deciding the pairings. “But if you were the one sleeping on the couch, I could find a way to get the person I was paired with to switch with you. Octavinelle students love deals and I would have an easier time getting a deal like this with Floyd than with Azul. After making sure he was in a good mood for it of course. Which is also very easy for me. I mean, who would be in a bad mood in the company of someone as adorable and fun as me?” He rests his chin on his hands and gives you his cutest smile to prove his point.

You ask him what deal they made and he smiles slyly again.

“Don't worry, my dear. It takes more than a intelligent teenager with mood swings to outsmart me. And let's say that Azul can be more difficult to convince.” There is a short pause. “I hope you can forgive me for waking you up. You looked so cute sleeping, but I really wanted to surprise you. Did you like it?”

You did! But you still tell him how you felt when you were deciding who slept where.

“You know the saying: All's fair in love and war. Of course I wasn't going to miss an opportunity like this, but I had to make sure we stayed together. And knowing my opponents and who my best allies would be, I knew this would be my best strategy.”

You still seem not completely convinced, or at least you pretend you're not.

“Aww... don't do this to poor old me~” He says dramatically “You can't imagine how hard it was for me to see your disappointed face when you were chosen to sleep on the sofa. My heart sank as much as seeing a companion injured in combat next to me. But we needed to be strong if we want to end up together!”

You laugh to see him act so melodramatically. He holds both of your hands, and looks deeply into your eyes, with a mix of a sweet smile and a smirk.

“And now that we're safe in each other's arms, maybe we can heal our wounded hearts.” And if you allow him, he will kiss your lips.

He will always wake you up with a kiss or by bopping your nose. And if you feel lazy he will force you to get up by being cutely annoying. Even if he has to hold you in his arms to do so. C'mon, the days are beautiful and he can enjoy the beach with you, he wants to enjoy every second before it ends.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Riddle Rosehearts #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #Ace Trappola #Ace Trappola x Reader #Jack Howl #Jack Howl x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Floyd Leech #Floyd Leech x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

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bunnys-kisses · 18 days

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blueberry muffins with mai tail x Lando Norris?🥰

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hey! do you want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu!! there's a whole host of things to check out. there are endless options and combinations. i accept larger orders and orders from fandoms outside of f1. i like writing these so i keep makin' em! so thank you! and for this anon thank you for the short and sweet order! i hope you love it!!

blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit") + mai tai (loss of virginity) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, first time/loss of virginity, slow sex, lando takes your virginity (and is very nice about it), best friend!reader

when you were a teenager, you would often have dreams of this happening. to be intimate with the likes of lando norris, a boy turned man that you had known for a large chunk of your life. you had admitted to him during his visit back home that even after all the time you were still a virgin.

and without much thought he asked, 'want me to fix that?" and you almost fell out of your seat at the bar.

you swallowed and said, "yes." and while you'd try to play it off like the alcohol talking. that was a big fat lie, about as big as the crush you'd been harbouring for lando since your days in school.

you walked back to your flat, lando's hand in the back pocket of your jeans. you took a detour to an corner shop opened at this hour and bought a small pack of condoms. better safe than sorry.

"last thing you want to happena fter your first time i get pregnant." he laughed, "especially by the likes of me." then paid for the condoms before he led you out of the store and back to your flat. he remained close to you, loving the feeling of such intimacy between the two of you.

he kept an arm around you with the condoms in the back pocket of his jeans. you led him up the steps to your place and got the door open. once it was closed behind the both of you, lando took you by the shoulders and pulled you into a kiss.

"you have no idea how beautiful you are." he said.

"there's no need to butter me up, lando." you laughed as you gave him a little bit of a shove. but he only came back closer and held your chin to kiss him.

when the kiss eventually broke and you grabbed him by the wrist to bring him to your bedroom. that was when the clothes came off. lando put the pack of condoms on the nightstand as you got into the bed. lando eyed you up and down and licked his lips without thinking.

"and no one has ever had sex with you?" he couldn't believe it. the sight of you was beautiful, sitting up on your bed and looking at him, "no one? at all?"

you shook your head, "no one.. i just was too busy."

lando nodded as he got into bed with you. he was naked and he reached for you. he touched your soft skin, "are you sure you want to do this? i don't want you to feel pressured."

you shook your head, "it's all fine, lando." you reached for him an softly kissed him on the lips. his hand trailed up and down your side before he put you on your back. he eyed you down, taking in the sight of you.

"good. i want this to be good for you." he cupped your face, "you only deserve the best." he stroked his cock before he leaned over you to grab one of the condoms from the package. he got it on before he leaned back to look at you.

"i don't think it'll fit. what if it doesn't fit?" your words were a bit of an ego boost, but lando wanted to assure you. of course he looked like he wasn't going to fit, you had never been with anyone else.

"then i'll spend all night making sure it fits for the next time." he promised as he got into your space once more.

you got your legs around his waist at his request and he rubbed the protected tip of his cock up against your slick pussy. he sank into your pussy slowly, he took his time to make sure you were comfortable.

"are you okay?"

you nodded in response, "yeah, just never felt this before. this is different than any of my toys." your cheeks went hot, "better though! much better!" you shifted a little in your spot on the bed.

when he got to the base, he exhaled. he felt a shudder in his body. you felt like a dream. you were painfully beautiful. you drove him wild. you had for years, even when you over plucked your eyebrows and had braces in secondary school. beautiful then, beautiful now.

lando was lucky to be the one to take your virginity.

he moved against you slowly. his hands on your hips as he rocked against you. he wasn't putting too much force behind his thrusts, he couldn't. this was your first time and he didn't want to scare you. he could tell that your cheeks were warmed, even if he could see them fully due to hands covered your face.

"don't hide from me, beautiful. i want to see it all." his words were comforting as he moved against you. he rocked against you, his pace slowly gained momentum. he added, "please, beautiful."

you hated how his words impacted you, they made your cheeks feel flushed as you pulled your hands away and pulled him closer to you by the shoulders. he kissed you deeply as you moved against one another. you moaned against his lips and your stomach was in knots. here you were, under your best friend. letting him fuck you like you had dreamed about for years.

as if lando didn't do the same all that time. even when he was with other people, he thought of you. he wanted to make sure it was all special for you. even thrust, kiss and movement was perfect for you. as it was what you deserved. a perfect for time.

"you feel great, lando. thank you."

"of course, anything for you, beautiful. better me than some scumbag from your school. someone you could trust." someone you could love. but those words hung on his tongue before he brought you in for another searing hot kiss. lando had been playing chicken with his feelings for years, which was why he jumped at the chance to have sex with you.

and the way you looked at him as he moved against you was the hottest part. you looked up at lando like he hung the stars in the evening sky. that he was for a brief moment your entire world. the universe confined to your shoe box bedroom where the bed was creaky from years of sleeping. it wasn't used to these kinds of activities.

it didn't take long for you to feel close to climax. it felt similar to when you pleasured yourself in the same bed. but the movements made the air get caught in your throat. oh, this was something else. you panted and whined as the other man looked down at you.

"fuck you're beautiful." he panted as he rutted against you. his movements were quick, but not painfully rough. he held your hips for good leverage. i could feel the sweat as his temples and his heart hammering in his chest.

he knew he was a lucky man.

your toes curled and your back arched when you climaxed first. lando would make sure you got yours first before he got his. and when you relaxed after reaching your peak, he hiked your hips a little higher and moved against your faster. to a speed that he knew was going to send him over the edge.

you scratched a this back, leaving pretty red lines and he continued to fuck you. this was something else. he knew he wouldn't last long and soon he finished inside the condom while inside of your sweet pussy. he groaned into your shoulder and arched his back from the heightened pleasure.

"date me." he said, "please. just date me."

you blinked at him, you immediately coming back to your senses, "what?"

he kissed you as he slowed his hips to a stop, "let's go out, for real. not when we'd go on pretend dates as kids. i want you... more than this. everything."

you kissed him once more before he pulled out. the fight taken out of both of you. your heart pounded from his words. the deceleration felt like a streak of cold through you. but in a way that made you alert. you had been friends for years.

it would make sense, but still it left you breathless.

you laid curled up in his arms. focusing on his sleepy breathing he was practically knocked out by the time his climaxed. he kept you in his arms. protecting you while under the covers, you had suddenly become a safety blanket for him. you carefully trailed your fingers up and down his arm. this was a dream come true, but you were left wide awake. lando wasn't asleep long as he woke up a little bit.

he yawned a little bit, eyes slightly closed, "go to sleep, beautiful." he said tiredly, "i'll ask you out for real tomorrow. flowers and all that. can't right now, just wanna hold you" then shifted you closer to him and fell back to sleep.

tomorrow you'd have to have a grown up conversation about what you were. and the only thing that allowed you relax for the night was the promise that he'd ask you out. that lando wanted you as much as you wanted him. <3

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bitchlessdino · 9 months

Text

nobody's home (m)

Pairing: neighbor male nanny!seungcheol x afab maid!reader Genre: smut, fluff towards the end Word count: 3.8k tags: working class au, mentions kids, big dick!Seungcheol, reader wears skirt and thong and panty hose, dom!seungcheol, brat!reader, rough sex, rough hair pulling and head movement, spitting and swallowing, heavy degradation kink, window sex, overstimulation, name calling (brat, slut, mr. choi), choking unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pies Summary: Seungcheol and you have never crossed paths for long, but boy have you imagined it. Too preoccupied with your jobs working for some of the richest families in the city, you've sacrificed your grueling hours when you could've been fucked your brains out all this time. However, big risks come with big rewards when the holidays arrive. Then there's nobody home to stop you. author note: horny, horny, horny, that was the entire process writing all of this. i feel like i pulled this out one of my deepest most darkest horny moments bc why am i so into writing every part of this and thats so rare?? i enjoyed this alot, please enjoy guys and happy new year! its almost 2024 thats insane!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

You haven’t worked for this family all that long. Only long enough to realize the cute male nanny living in the house next door.

You've caught glimpses of him a handful of times on the lawn, overseeing the kids as they bask in the fresh air. His eyes sparkle like stars that lit the night sky and his smile outshines the opulence of this entire block of one-percenters. Witnessing that radiant smile aimed in your direction brightens your day each time. Without fail, you exchange polite greetings, accompanied by smiles and pleasant small talk, forming a delightful routine in your interactions.

As the housekeeper, you’ve had plenty of encounters while getting groceries, lawn or backyard parties, and windows. Lots of windows. You’d peer through when you’re cleaning, see him glance back at you, maybe sending you a wave as he’s mid-feeding the kid veggie tots. Your interactions with him were typically very brief and fleeting.

Now, there were no excuses. The holiday season is around the corner, and families in the neighborhood will soon be heading to the Alps, tropical destinations, or somewhere along those lines. That meant you’d be all alone in their mansion, much like someone else in the neighborhood.

You learn about it by seeing him at the grocery store. Trying not to get distracted by the loose-fitting dress shirt tucked in the waist of his trousers, you notice the little one he cares for rolls through the aisles full of toddler swagger in the shopping cart. You would gush at their delightful giggles if you didn’t find their caretaker so mind-numbingly distracting.

With his broad shoulders, sturdy arms, and consistently solid build, you too would trust him with something so delicate and needy of attention. It was such a natural choice. However, the nearest option you had was, well, yourself.

He mentions that his employers preferred to keep their vacation exclusive to family, providing him with paid time off to use as he pleased. In turn, you mention being offered the same form of compensation, and am eternally grateful for such leniency. His expression sparks in piqued interest, briefly glancing at you before storing the hot chocolate package away in the cart.

“Does that mean you’ll be away for the holidays?”

You muse at his question, fingers taking over your basket handle as he ponders on your response. A glimmer of optimism in his eyes beams in your direction, with a dimple etched deep in his cheek as he splays a hopeful smile. To which you answer jesterly, "Well, I hadn't implied that."

He softly chuckles, nudging you at the elbow, obviously trying to banger a proper answer. “Then tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a big house all alone during the holidays?”

His compliments delight you and warmth festers in your chest, greedy for more. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

Seungcheol doesn’t have a moment to react as the child in the cart regains their energy. He shifts his gaze away momentarily and soon you escape his line of vision, seamlessly blending in amidst the bustling crowd of grocers.

Returning to the residence, you linger by the largest window, offering a perfect view of Seungcheol dining during supper. It's a familiar scene, replaying like clockwork at the same hours each time. His silhouette in the warm glow of the neighbor's dining room becomes a sight with more to be desired, and you imagine a world where the divide doesn't exist. Staring in his eyes, you picture your entanglement. The heat of your bodies weaving together like threads in a tapestry, each bonded tightly, with only the power of shears to tear you apart.

His eyes reflect the same intensity, mentally undressing you down to the skin, making you his perfect canvas. He ponders the texture of your skin, your hair, and the sound you make when he tenderizes your flesh with his teeth. He wonders how full you feel between his fingers, or how sweet your nectar tastes. He can only envision the favor, the sensation, the warmth; holding the fantasy close to him like a secret taken to the grave.

That day would come soon enough.

Anticipating each passing hour of every day, you are elated by the promise of bidding farewell to your employers at the airport. You assure them of returning to a pristine home, meticulously cleaned from every nook and cranny. A grin, so expansive it borders on pain, graces your face, and there's a noticeable spring in your step as they fade into the depths behind the security checkpoints.

Without a moment's hesitation, you rush home, eager to connect with a kindred spirit just a few cobblestones away from your work residence. Judging by the expression in his eyes, it's clear he has fulfilled his responsibilities and bid farewell to his employers as well, eagerly awaiting your arrival. He grins at you, pleased to see you approach him.

“I see it that they made it to their flight safe?”

You hum in confirmation. “You would be seeing correctly. How did your family make it?”

"Quite smoothly," he answers nonchalantly, the dimple on his cheek sinking into a subtle but contented expression.

A palpable wave of relief releases from the depths of your lungs, and a chuckle escapes as you observe Seungcheol displaying a similar reaction. Even in the subzero temperatures, you sensed the fire of his gaze, unraveling your logical resolve and liquefying you into a puddle of your own arousal. In the depth of your gaze, he discerns your hopeful anticipation, one that matches his. “So, what are the plans for the rest of their absence?”

The corner of your lips can’t help the way lifts, smiling slyly back at him. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”

You thank the heavens every day they never reinstalled those security cameras. Utilize their vulnerability, you invite the neighbor’s nanny into their home, and the automatic door locks behind him. No use in holding back, he claims the lips swiftly, tasting need and rebellion on your tongue in a rough liplock.

His lips full and plush, they part to speak, but not with words. His tongue aligns with yours, only to tangle in incoherent mumbles that escape in between, yet communicate with you in perfect fluency. Much like the intimate gazes you share from the windows multiple times a day, the fervent kiss unfolding spoke more than the audible language ever could.

His hands work around your body, shoving off your coat and cardigan, abandoning them on the hardwood to slip his fingers beneath your shirt. A shallow breath leaves your lips and you rush him against you, planting yourselves against their pristinely white wall. The texture of the plaster digs into your backside, abrasive against your flesh and Seungcheol locks you in place by holding your thigh against his side.

“You don’t know how fucking bad I wanted to do this to you,” he growls into your kiss.

You let out a sultry chuckle, fiddling with his earlobe between the pads of your fingers. “You can say it out loud. Nobody’s home.”

He scoffs. “I said, I wanted to—“ he slams his hips against you, his cock bursting at the seams against your torso, “—fuck the living shit—“ he does so again, digging your sobbing clothed cunt with his solid thigh, “—out of this stupid, pretty cunt. That loud enough for you?”

You moan through your firm pressed lips, grinding against his steel hard thighs. “Just the perfect amount.”

In admiration, your hands roam over his body, and shamelessly rips off his dress shirt, hearing the buttons skip against the cool tile. He grunts at the sensation of the frigid air enveloping his broad stature as it pebbles goosebumps on his upper arms. Returning your savage gesture, his hand fingers through your hair and dragging it back to pin your head on the wall behind you, fisting handfuls of your locks. “That wasn’t very nice of you. Could’ve asked for permission at least first,” he snarls, baring his front teeth.

“Can’t help it,” you grin, “you just look so good without it on. I bet you look without anything on.”

His chest presses flat against your body without even space to breathe and his unyielding gaze bore into you. He aligns his conceited grin against your lips to smash it brusquely—as if thanking you—pulling at your bottom lip between his perfect teeth. “I’m sure it’s all you think about when you see me.”

Quickly, he maneuvers you; twisting your heel and guiding with a hand on your waist, he forces you against the unyielding surface of the wall and trails that same hand over your chilled spine.

You softly gasp at his touch, feeling the flood of your clenched walls seep through your underwear and layering your inner thighs. His chilling, velvet voice beckons, coating the inside of your ears. “But I’ve dealt with brats, you know that. Let me show exactly what happens when you test the limits of my discipline.”

Seungcheol lifts the flap of your skirt, barring the shape of your cheeks protected under a layer of pantyhose and caressing its plush cushion. Then came the flat palm of his hand coming against you at full force. You jolt upon contact, clinging to the foundation of this house to recover, yet mewl at the arousal erupting inside you. A sound emerges from the depths of your throat, vaguely sounding of his name as well as plead.

“You like that, don’t you? A naughty little brat you are,” he chuckles sinisterly.

You push your back against his hips, finding the mold of his cock readily and fitting between the rounds of your ass. His soft groan follows, his erection rubbing against the pantyhose. “God, you really like that.”

“I want it,” you whine impatiently, backing your hips on him, and crushing his length, “give it to me.”

“What kind of authority figure would I be if I gave into one of my brat’s demands?” He strikes your cheek again, stinging lingering dully as your flesh had barely recovered from the last hit, and drool leaking out of the corner of your lips. “Not a very good one,” he answers.

“Please, Seungcheol...”

He does do again, if not harder, and each strike collides with both cheeks. “You’ll be referring to me as Mr. Choi now, brat.”

You never knew his surname, but upon discovery, you notice how smooth it rolls off the tongue. How delicious it sounds out of your swollen lips.

“Mr. Choi…” You breathe out, your cunt vibrating at the notion of his power.

He hums pleased, rewarding the back of your neck with a gentle peck. “Good job. What is it you want?”

“Please, Me Choi, I want your cock inside me…”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you, now?” He chides, “Are you going to behave from now on?”

You nod gingerly. “Yes, just give it to me, please…all of it…”

“Mmh, since you’re being so polite. I guess positive reinforcement is in order.” Seungcheol’s hand caresses your hips, reaching for the curves of your ass in confident determination. The soft caress of his rich voice proceeds, “Let’s just get these out of the way.”

He ruthlessly tears the sheer material of your pantyhose, exposing your skin and the red lacy thong that hardly holds you up. You erupt in a startled gasp, welcoming the cool embrace of the air ventilation on your blistered skin. His voice drops to a lower octave and his groaning dissolves, melding into a soft sigh. “What a pretty little holiday gift for me. Only took me a moment to realize I have to unwrap it.”

“I thought of you when I decided the color,” you admit in feigned innocence, “you seem to like the holiday colors.”

“I do. Darling of you for noticing,” he praises with a hint of tease, “and my, does it suit you. Maybe there is hope for a brat like you.”

You hear the draw of his zipper, following the heavy drop of fabric to the ground. Slightly turning your head, you see he kicks the clothes aside and grins upon inspection of his full-length lining up between your legs. Your knees began to wobble, parting your feet for a more stable stance, and you swoon with your head against the wall. “You look so big…”

The head of his cock rubs against the lace, precum leaking from the tip and creating a small mess on your already ruined panties. You hear a smile in his scoff and feel the snap of your underwear before his tip breaches your molten warmth. He whispers, “Wait until you feel how big it is pushing in and out of that pretty wet cunt of yours…”

“Mmh, Mr. Choi…” Your breath halts as his girth parts your entrance, stretching your walls until it is Seungcheol and your lubricating arousal. He seethes in relief, letting your welcoming embrace around him soothe his intensifying erection and he bucks his hips, having you adjust to his size.

You rest your forehead on the wall, feeling him bury himself inside you. “Shit…yes, Mr Choi…”

“Such bratty pussy.” He spanks both cheeks once more, watching the recoil of your flesh. “My perfect bratty little pussy…bet you’re so used to misbehaving. It won’t be like that around me.”

He took one deep, languid thrust, automatically groaning, “Fuck,” then released his hips.

You immerse in his plunder of your voice, letting it ache in need as you repeat his name. Meanwhile, your internal temperature rises with the collision of his lap and your ass growing harsh and unforgiving. Pinning your wrist together single-handedly, he lets his other grip reclaim your hair, dragging your body to him for his own use. “You feel so fucking good around me.”

He tenses his torso to take sharper strikes, pulsing deeper and quicker. Your hand slides on the solid surface in front of you, pushing yourself against him as you take every inch. Your jaw drops low, echoing a hollow whine, devoid of incoherent thoughts and instinctive response.

Seungcheol lets go of your wrists and instead sandwiches them between your back and his chest. He finds the front panels of your shirt and tears it apart similarly you did with his, echoing that familiar sound of buttons being abandoned on the ground.

“Because you deserve the same thing to happen to you,” he softly mutters, only to cup your cladded breast hungrily, squeezing your flesh to the point it spills out of the material as his teeth kiss your neck, “and because I couldn’t stop looking at these when you’re walking around that see-through blouse by that window we share.”

Thinking about the fact that you share something made his intention all the more intimate, and you cling to his body like saran wrap due to the simple fact. You melt as he marks your body with bites, the stinging resonating on your goosebumped skin. “I wear that because of you,” you manage to squeak, “only because you wear that t-shirt that clings to your body during the summer. How it got damp from sweat fixing that broken bookcase. God, is it satisfying to rip your shirt off.”

“That window was always the culprit, hmm?”

He pries you from where you stand and drags you to the referred structure with you giggling after him. There he bends you over the dining table placed strategically in front of it, while your ass points towards the glass screen. His spanks come flying, tenderizing the already raw and blistered skin, “This damn window you always linger by.”

His nails dig into your kneaded flesh and he fits his cock right where it belongs, plunging back inside you as he secures your head against the table. “The way I wanted to fuck you on this exact table, spank this cute fucking ass,” he roughly tugs your head up, watching your tits bounce as he ruts in you like a damn dog, and meets your warm wide-eyed gaze, “Spit in that slutty, brat mouth.”

Your lips part without delay, death gripping the edge of the mahogany, and your tongue slings out enthusiastically. He breaks out in an amused grin before it melts back into a smolder, gripping you closer until he hocks a hot load of salvia in your mouth, forcibly closing your jaw with his hands.

“Hold it,” he commands, seeing the subtle frown on your face as you obey. He smiles sinisterly, hands on your hips as he slams you towards him, watching your head bob at the harsh rhythm. He places his palm over the column of your throat, teeth clawing your cheek. “Now swallow, you slut.”

He feels the shift in your throat as it goes down, relishing that light gasp of breath leaving your lips, “Good slut. You’re finally learning.”

His power, his strength, his cadence were inexplicably captivating and you succumb to his every whim. It only intensifies as you drink in his delectable lips, so soft in contrast to the abrasive snap of his hips, hitting in a spot so sensitive you don’t even predict it coming.

Your moan resonates through the entire first floor, palming the dinner table as you ride out your high in teary anguish as Seungcheol’s pace doesn’t seem to falter, in fact, it seems to have grown angrier. Furious.

“You fucking slut,” he spits, rubbing your overstimulated clit in the thick of your climax, squeezing the tears out of your eyes. You clutch his forearm in desperation, writhing uncontrollably. “S-Seungcheol—“

“Misbehaving again, I see.” He pulls out of you to flip you on your back. He watches at your hot cheeks expel heavy pants, sweat filming your entire torso, and eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re still conscious; you haven’t had enough just yet.”

Dragging by the arm, he takes you against the tempered glass, chilling your bare spine. He lifts your legs off the ground and holds them on either his side, stuffing himself back into you. Your heat drips around his cock, and he catches it in his thrusts, pressuring you to feel every inch of his cock rammed inside.

Your ass and the pads of your fingers press against the glass, smudging its once-pristine sheen. “Mr.Choi…”

He strokes your cheek, fondness in his eyes before it lowers to your throat and closes around it. Then his eyes penetrate through you, eying you in a dark allure as he robs you of breath, and catching the daze in your eyes as he ponders in thought.

“What are you thinking dirtying up the thing you took so long cleaning with your fingerprints and cum, hmm? Marking your claim on the house you've spent all day and night on looking perfect? A house far from being yours? How does it make you feel?”

“…Exhilarating,” you sigh shallowly, staring back at him with a smile. Your arms loop around his neck, finding security and embracing his vigorous nature. “Like it’s all worth the painstaking labor to make a complete mess of it.”

He groans at your answer, reconnecting your lips in what feels like an eternity, and cradles the side of your face endearingly with one hand still around your neck. His lips devour yours, swallowing your moans, jerking his hips, and savoring the velvet of your walls clench around him so deliciously.

“You were just as worth the wait. Made my job so damn hard thinking your pussy wrapped around my cock, made me fucking blank out most of my day. Not a good move for me, but–really–I blame you,” he slams you against the window before quickly returning to his rhythm pace.

“You and your perfect body—” He grinds up into you, relocating your sensitivity and you whimper, “—Your sexy fucking voice when you greet me,” and he finally, makes notice of your face, using that hand that crushed around throat now gripping your chin, “—or this beautiful face that I couldn’t wait to see contort when I push my fucking cum inside.”

Usually, you know better than to let that kind of thing happen, but after the long duration of having only distant contact, his offer becomes tempting—alluring even—that you knew someone had to physically pry you off of him until you were filled with his seed. “Well, you’re so good with kids, wanna make some of your own?”

Seungcheol beckons closer, grinning mischievously, “Should I? You want me to put my babies in you? Fill you up with cum?”

You mewl at the thought, bringing his warmth closer, “I’d be so full…taking your fat cock and all your hot cum inside me…it’d be a dream, especially knowing how good you’re taking care of us, especially me.”

“You’d want that, hmm,” driving himself into you until you're lost in your own world again—losing the grasp on reality—and he persists. “You want my cum making a mess of you and this house just so I could put some babies in this pretty cunt? Hmm? That what you want?”

You nod mindlessly, anchoring yourself to him until he finally lets up. When he does, you feel the power surges through you as if you’re fresh new battery, the electrical current being the cum he shoots up into you. You let yourself ride this high, rocking into his hips, and soon your weight takes over, deducing you to a puddle. He takes his final pumps, cooing softly at your lips as you share a kiss, then drops you back on the dining table, letting you catch your breath as the cum spills slowly out of you and stains the floor under your feet.

He stands between your legs, tracing over the texture of your thighs, and his other hand claims your waist, meeting your face with a tired but tender smile. “Hi.”

You softly chuckle, resting a palm on the back of his neck. “Hi,” you repeat back.

“So dinner?”

You playfully roll your eyes, bordering his hips with your legs. “Are you offering to cook?”

“My job requires me to, so yes,” he traces over your jaw, drawing in closer, “Wouldn’t want to feed my clients burnt Mac and cheese with their frozen Dino nuggies.”

“True,” your arms lock at the elbows around his neck, “But what else can you make besides Mac and cheese with Dino nuggies?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He answers vaguely.

You finger through his hair and notice how his perspiration has left him mouthwateringly disheveled, quietly contemplating how to stretch out this vacation time. Your solution: never leave each other’s side.

“I’ll tell you what. We can think about what to eat…after a shower. “

You retrieve his hand, tugging him in your desired direction and he follows graciously with a knowing grin. “We can do that, but we both know that shower will end up more dirty than clean.”

“Good thing I’m an expert in keeping a clean home, now it’s your turn to clean my home.”

His dimple graced his cheek, visibly interested. “My pleasure.”

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rememberwren · 3 months

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A Complete Set (Whatever That Means) || 1

This is a direct sequel to Skin Deep which can be read here. From now on I'm splitting up any one shot that is longer than 10k. So here is part one of this sequel. 6k.

Johnny pierces fem!reader’s nipples.

About this: at least five nipples in this one, an altogether questionable use for a sequel, nipple play, graphic depiction of nipple piercings, alcohol, jealous!soap, spoilers in the 'about this' section, iffy writing. Reader has enough hair to “hold back” and height difference necessitates that she “looks up” to speak to Simon.

Thirty minutes waiting for Green Jade Chinese takeout when you’re only a block from the restaurant is a crime. It’s even more of a crime when it’s thirty minutes spent away from Ghost—whose name you have learned is Simon. Laying on the sofa in Skin Deep, your stomach gives another shameful growl. You glance at the clock on your phone, hoping he hasn’t run into trouble…though you’re not sure there’s much in the way of trouble that Simon couldn’t handle.

The bell over the door rings, and you sit up, smile blooming in anticipation.

“Hey youuu–fuck!” you nearly shriek.

Standing in the doorway is a man who is decidedly not Simon, though there are similarities. They are both tall (though Simon must stand a hand taller), and broad (this bloke’s biceps are threatening the sleeves of his t-shirt as he crosses his arms across his chest), but that is where the similarities end. Where Simon is pale and blond, this man is tan and brunet, his hair a cropped mohawk that looks soft to brush one's fingers through.

Looking over his shoulder is a beautiful woman with braids that drip down to her shoulder blades.

“I tend to have that effect on women,” he says, glancing back at her.

“I can imagine,” she says, no small hint of flirtation in her voice.

“Um. Sorry, but there aren’t any walk-ins,” you remind them. The sign had been right bloody there. Could they not read? A more important question: were they murderers looking for their next victim? In the city, one could never know if a person was malevolent or just stupid.

“Where’s the big guy?” the man asks. He holds up a hand a few inches above his head. “Tall. Devastatingly handsome. Monosyllabic.”

“He should be back any minute.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? You always let the murderers know that time is not on their side; no inconvenient prey here. Try again elsewhere. “Maybe you two could wait outside.”

The man does a neat little trick with his tongue, flashing a silver barbell piercing at you like a calling card. “I’m the piercer, lass. I own forty-nine percent of the business. Let Ghost know I’m back with a client, alright? Nice meetin’ you.”

The two of them disappear together behind the curtain at the back of the shop, leaving you hoping that a small hole will open up directly beneath your coordinates and swallow you whole. Hopefully it will leave the shop intact. Maybe you had the time to let Simon know not to look for your body—

The bell rings again, and this time it is Simon, his mask still pulled up over his nose and mouth, one paper bag of fragrant Chinese food tucked under his arm. He takes in the sight of you with your head in your hands, elbows on your knees and approaches with caution.

“What’s this?” he wonders out loud. He sets down the bag and tears it open: egg drop soup, pork fried rice, crab rangoon. All your favorite goodies. A feminine giggle is heard from the back of the shop and he sighs, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.“Soap. What’d he say to you?”

“Nothing. I just put my foot in my mouth.”

“Yer a flexible one, aren’t you.”

“Just in that one, very specific way, trust me,” you say, accepting the disposable chopsticks he hands you. You break them apart and go looking amongst the packages of food for your rice. “I mistook him for a client and asked him to wait outside.”

Simon sucks on his teeth, a sure-fire sign that he is trying not to laugh.

You launch a chopstick at him, scoffing when he catches it nimbly out of the air and offers it back to you.

“Careful with that,” he says solemnly. “Could have taken my fuckin’ eye out.”

In the back, a scream rings out. You jerk, nearly upending the rice in your lap. Under his breath, Simon mutters: “Always Soap with the screamers.”

That night, the two of you fuck at his flat. He puts you on top of him, where you can control how deep the penetration is, and it gives you a chance to explore the angles that you never really had a chance to explore with other partners. With others, it had been a race: rushing toward some blissful edge, hurrying to get them (and if you were lucky, yourself) off as quickly as possible. With Simon, you were just discovering that sex could be fun; sex could be slow; sex could end with no one orgasming and it could still change your life.

He is an excellent sport while you ride him, his eyes quiet and soft in a way they aren’t when you’re outside of his flat together, when the mask is on and pulled up into place. If he weren’t so fucking put together, you might say that he were pussy drunk. As it is, he stays still, hands kneading your thighs until you nearly get a cramp in your hip and then he sits up, guiding you off of him and back into the bedsheets, laying face to face to fuck you in a way that is so painfully intimate it makes you want to shut your eyes.

Afterwards, you curl up against his side and find yourself playing with his nipple piercing. He’s got cute nipples: small and pink as his mouth. The barbell is black, a nice contrast to his skin tone. He watches you sometimes, other times letting his eyes fall shut.

“Did this hurt?” you ask him, tugging on the barbell a little.

“Yes,” he says in that dry way that lets you know your question has amused him.

“You know what I mean. You’ve gotten tattoos and had your ears pierced. What’s the worst pain?”

He shifts to touch a spot on his inner arm where a black and white skull rests. The skin is delightfully soft and thin. “This part nearly had me in tears. Barely felt the nipple, in comparison.”

Your mouth says it before your brain comprehends it: “Maybe I should get mine done.”

He stares at you, eyes briefly falling to your breasts. He reaches down and skims his fingers along the curve of one, his fingertips calloused but his touch so very soft. He says: “Soap did this, didn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re alone with Soap for sixty seconds and now you want your tits pierced. Are you saying that’s a coincidence?”

You frown. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe he influenced me, subconsciously?”

“He didn’t ask you?”

“No! He had a client with him.”

Simon hums. His face is closed off, expression unreadable. You can sense there is more that he holds back the same way you can sense a body of water is deep, but he doesn’t share and you don’t push him, not sure if you’re ready to take that plunge yourself.

“It was a silly idea,” you backpedal. “Forget I said anything.”

“It’s your body,” Simon says, ignoring your words. “You should do whatever you want with it.”

“Yeah? You’d be surprised how rarely anybody ever says that to a woman.”

“Most people are cunts.”

“True.” You reach out and thumb at his nipple again, just to satisfy the urge in your own tiny, one track brain. He takes a measured breath—for Simon, that’s as good as a moan. Your eyes flicker down, but his cock is hidden somewhere beneath the sheets. “Want to go again?”

He guides your hand down to wrap around his cock which is like hard steel wrapped in smooth velvet.

You roll on top of him. The cramp in your thigh has faded by now. Reaching up, you palm your breasts, briefly playing with your nipples. You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly sexy, but the way he looks at you makes you feel powerful, like the sun lives just underneath your skin.

“I think I do want them done,” you say, watching the hungry way he watches your fingers. He sits up, tugging you onto your knees so he can take one nipple into his mouth and tease it with the sharp line of his teeth.

You figure that’s as good a blessing as any.

Simon tends to spring things on you. Texts are usually last minute and painfully succinct: dinner? or my place? He is prone to just showing up out of the blue, unafraid (and unoffended) to take no for an answer when you’re busy.

One sunny fall afternoon, the thing he springs on you is Soap. Simon brings you to the shop, telling you that he needs to meet with a client. You’ve never tagged along to something like this before, but you’re beginning to think that there are few places Simon could go where you wouldn’t want to follow. Convinced you will be hiding in the back of the shop without a word to alert either of them to your presence, you agree easily enough.

But when you arrive, that client is Soap, and instead of letting you hide in the back, Simon picks up a chair with one hand, hauling it across the room so that you both sit flanking Soap on either side while he’s in the tattoo chair getting some fancy, winged symbol just over his pec.

“We’ve got a spectator? A voyeur?” Soap asks, rubbing his hands together. “Oh you know all my seedy kinks, Ghost.”

“I can leave, really,” you offer, already moving to stand.

“Sit,” Simon says.

You sit. Johnny sheds his shirt with obvious relish, and you find the artwork on the wall just over his shoulder to be incredibly interesting all of the sudden.

Soap extends a hand to you. “The big guy still hasn’t introduced us. Some call me Soap, but beautiful women are allowed to call me Johnny.”

You shake his warm hand to be friendly and make the mistake of meeting his eyes. They are very blue, framed by dark lashes and expressive eyebrows. He flashes his tongue piercing at you again and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned. He laughs.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, MacTavish,” Simon murmurs, putting a gloved hand flat on his chest to force him back against the chair. You see then that Johnny has both his nipples pierced: little golden rings that compliment his tanned skin.

He’s fit, unfortunately.

You look back at the picture on the wall while Simon grabs the razor to shave Johnny’s pec. You learn that there’s no such thing as silence when Johnny is in the room. He keeps up a consistent chatter of conversation while Simon preps his body and lays the stencil, and it goes a long way to putting you at ease.

“Would you hold my hand, lass?” Johnny asks, eyes big and guileless. “I’m scared of needles.”

Simon rolls his eyes, tugs his mask into place, and starts the gun without waiting for your response. The buzzing causes a visceral reaction in you, reminding you of your own tattoo that you had received from Simon only weeks ago. A craving rises up in you, tangible in your throat (and between your legs). You shift on the chair Simon brought over for you, eyes drawn to his hands to watch him work.

Johnny wiggles his fingers at you, palm up.

Your chair legs screech against the floor as you scoot in bursts towards him and take his hand. You haven’t even held hands with Simon yet, and here you are holding hands with his best friend. Suddenly regret has you wishing you could draw your hand back and wipe the touch away on your leggings. Unaware of your turmoil, Johnny heaves a sigh, giving you a smile that is painfully handsome. “There. Now I feel safe.”

“You shouldn’t,” Simon reminds him.

“Ready to tell me where your newfound generosity has come from?” Johnny asks, straining his neck to glance down at Simon’s work. “What happened to never tattooing friends for free?”

“I want you to owe me,” Simon says, voice quiet and distracted as he traces the line work.

“You need a favor,” Johnny guesses.

“Something like that.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

“She wants her nipples done.”

Simon lifts the gun away from his skin just in time for Johnny to jerk in the chair, head swiveling to look at you. Your own head has swiveled to look at Simon, who holds both hands up innocuously, looking not at all apologetic or regretful.

“You want me to cop a feel of your girlfriend’s tits?”

“Don’t say it like that!” you squawk.

“It’s true. We get very close and personal during a piercing, lass—“

“There’s a fundamental difference between copping a feel and touching my breast—“ You realize that you are still holding Johnny’s hand and you practically toss it away.

“I’m not laying a finger on her,” Johnny says firmly, speaking only to Simon now (likely considering you a lost cause). “Period. Out of the question.”

“I’m not letting her go to a stranger,” says Simon, brows drawn down low on his forehead. “So get over your own bullshit and pierce her, Johnny. It’s fine.”

Johnny’s mouth shuts with such force that his teeth click together. He turns his eyes on you and stares. You feel like you’ve already taken your top off even though you’ve done no such thing. Shyly, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, giving him your best glare. It has the opposite of intended effect; Johnny’s gaze softens a little, turns pitying.

“Alright,” he says. “Consider my bullshit over with.”

Simon inclines his head in gratitude. He picks back up the tattoo gun.

“What’s the story with you and Johnny anyway?” you ask Simon over dinner. He rarely takes you out, more content to spend time alone in private rather than in public. His eyes can’t stop scanning the few people in the restaurant. Sometimes his hand reaches for his mask, instinct urging him to draw it back over his mouth and nose, but he doesn’t.

“We met in the SAS, been friends ever since,” he says succinctly.

“How’d you two go into business together?”

“I was doing stick ‘n pokes for anyone who would sit still. He was piercing soldier’s ears in exchange for cigarettes. We both decided we’d rather live to see thirty, so when our time was up, we didn’t re-enlist, pooled our money, bought a location and never looked back.”

You frown. “I didn’t know you were in the military.”

He nods, sipping at a water (he’d refused your offer to share a pint together). You’re aware suddenly of how much there is about Simon that you don’t know.

“Was Johnny the one to pierce your nipple?”

Simon stills for a moment, considering the question. At length he sets his glass down and says slowly: “Yes.”

“Why do I sense there’s a story there?”

“Because there is. I’m sure Soap will be thrilled to tell it with as many details as possible.”

“Shouldn’t you tell me first, to control the narrative?”

Simon’s mouth twitches, lips quirking upwards at the edges. Coaxing one of his rare smiles from him never failed to make you feel like you were walking on clouds. He says: “You’re clever.”

“High praise.”

“Does that do something for you?”

“What?”

“Being praised.”

You sputter a little, flustered. But then it occurs to you: “Are you changing the subject?”

This time he grins, full and beautiful. You think about Soap calling him ‘devastatingly handsome’, and while there was a part of you that was sure the masses would not agree with your assessment of him, you couldn’t help but find Simon striking. Looking at his smile makes you smile, an unconscious mimicry.

He catches the waitress as she comes by and asks for the check.

“You look frightened,” Johnny says when he spots you as you come into Skin Deep. He’s seated on the couch where you and Simon had sex, texting on his phone. How he knows you look frightened, you couldn’t say; he hasn’t even looked up to greet you.

“What gave me away?” you ask, feeling queasy. You’d spent half the night awake watching videos on reddit of people getting their nipples pierced feeling increasingly panicked. It looked brutal. It made no sense to stick a needle through one of the most sensitive parts of your body. But it hadn’t made sense to be stabbed a hundred thousand times by microneedles either—and you’d done that. Eagerly, even.

“That look on your face that says you’re about to be sick,” Simon says from behind you.

You turn and give him a tepid glare. It’s all you can muster.

Johnny leads you back through the curtain, which you cross with a muted giddiness (your first time in the back of the shop!). It leads to a narrow hallway with a few frosted doors. One is clearly marked as a bathroom. One isn’t marked at all. The last has the light on inside, turning the frosted glass a golden yellow. The writing on the glass says SOAP’S ARTISAN PIERCINGS. He opens the door and ushers you both in.

The room is small, with a chair similar to Simon’s except for performing piercings. One wall is dominated by cabinets and drawers and mirrors, a small porcelain sink. A table holds a photobook which you make the mistake of skimming through—it’s full of clits, labias, penises, and nipples, all with a variety of gruesome appearing jewelry.

“Ow,” you mutter, shutting the book.

“Getting ideas for your next piercing?” Johnny asks over his shoulder, washing his hands at the sink. He soaps himself up to the elbows, like a surgeon preparing to root around in your open chest.

“No,” you say. “Definitely not.”

Simon has seated himself in one of the chairs in the corner, his legs looking obscenely long with the way they are folded. He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, watching you closely. You pull a face at him just to watch the way his eyes roll.

“Everything off from the waist up,” Soap says, tugging gloves into place. “Any allergies? Latex, dyes?”

He is much more abrupt today than he had been yesterday. You’re almost moved enough to ask him if he’s upset, but perhaps this is just his professionalism. Regardless, you miss the easy-going nature that had gone so far to put you at ease yesterday.

“No,” you say, shrugging out of your shirt. It is warm in the room but goosebumps still bloom along your arms and chest. God, are you really doing this? Are you really exposing yourself to Simon’s best friend? You glance back over your shoulder, but Simon’s face gives no indication of what you should do. The message is clear: you have to choose. Taking a deep breath, you slide the straps of your bra down your arms and reach around back to undo the clasp, folding everything nice and neatly into a pile on the chair beside you. Your nipples immediately pucker, whether from nerves or some unwilling arousal, you couldn’t say.

Johnny isn’t even looking at you. He’s opening up packages of frightening looking tools: scissors with clamps on the end, needles, toothpicks? “Had any caffeine today?”

“No. Wait, yes. A tea.”

“Goddamnit, Ghost. You and yer bloody teas.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not really,” Johnny says. “I’d prefer if you hadn’t drunk it, but what’s done is done. Makes the blood thinner though, you know.”

“Didn’t know that. I thought that was just alcohol.”

“Alcohol is worse,” he agrees. He glances over his shoulder, but towards Simon whose dark figure is haunting the corner of the room. His expression is sly. “Ghost knows all about that, aye?”

You latch on to this news eagerly. “Are you talking about when you pierced his nipple?”

Johnny’s brows lift in obvious surprise. “He told you about that?”

You hear the creak of the chair behind you as Simon shifts but you don’t turn to look at him. “He told me some of it?” you say, voice pitching upward at the end in question.

“Which parts, exactly?”

“Just that you were the one who had done it.”

“Left out all the tastiest bits,” Johnny says. “I bet he does that a lot when talking about his days with the 1-4-1.”

Your stomach dips.

“That’ll do,” Simon says sternly from the corner.

Johnny scoffs a little, muttering something under his breath as he arranges the tools to his liking. The silence that lingers is thick and awkward. Eager to break it, he turns to you and your tits. “Alright then. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

You want to cross your arms more than you want to take your next breath, but you don’t. You don’t breathe either, really. Johnny stares at your breasts and then asks you to stand and come closer. Knees knocking together, you do, until you are close enough to smell his cologne or aftershave—whichever you aren’t sure.

“Biggest question here,” he says, glancing back toward your eyes. “Are we doing one today or both?”

“Uh—both?”

“Let me bring this to your consideration,” Johnny says. “If you can’t go without playing with them, I recommend just doing one at a time. Because once I pierce it, it’s hands off for six months. No touching, no twiddling, no teasing, no twisting, definitely no tasting, I’m talking to you, Ghost—“

“Fuck off.”

“—so if that’s a dealbreaker, I recommend leaving one to play with. Stagger them. Mitigates the loss a little.”

You glance back at Ghost. On the one hand, nipple play is a favorite of yours. On the other hand, if you don’t do both today, you might chicken out and never come back. In the end, you decide: “Let’s start with one and see how I do.”

“Yer the boss, hen,” Johnny says solemnly. He tears open a tiny package, the bitter scent of antiseptic stinging at your nose. “Any preference on left or right? Do yeh have a favorite?”

“A favorite?”

He snorts. “Alright—which side do you sleep on?”

You say your left, so he takes the antiseptic wipe to the right breast and warns you with a brief, It’s chilly, before swiping it across your nipple. You hate every moment of it, mostly because the stimulation feels good in a distant, muted way. Teeth gritting, you wait for him to be done, even though he is a consummate professional and going as fast as he can.

Next he takes one of the toothpicks, dips it in ink, and marks a spot on either side of your nipple where the needle will pierce. It’s more on the areola itself; you can’t decide if that makes it more or less tolerable.

“Go check the placement in the mirror, let me know if you’re level,” says Johnny, tossing away the toothpick.

You turn to Ghost instead. “Will you be my mirror?” you whisper.

The corners of his eyes crinkle behind his mask. He beckons you closer with two fingers, and you walk to him on unsteady legs. His hand cups your breast, careful not to touch any part that Johnny has sanitized as he looks you over thoroughly.

“Perfect,” he mutters, almost like a curse.

“Hey! No touching!” Johnny calls, crumpling a piece of trash noisily in his fist. He sounds irritated. “Don’t you make me sanitize her again!”

When you and Simon have finished, Johnny adjusts the chair until it is laying flat and helps you up onto it.

“Normally I freehand most piercings,” he says. “But since this is your first, I’m going to use a hemostat clamp. Looks like this—“ He shows you the device which looks like scissors but with clamps instead of blades, holes strategically placed for the needle to be pushed through. “—and I’ve been told it hurts more than the piercing itself, so be warned.”

“I’m warned,” you whisper weakly.

“Arm up, over your head lass.”

He scoots his chair beside you and then gently touches your breast, the latex warm from his body heat. He adjusts the clamp and then grips down tightly, ensuring that the marked spots of ink are within the holes. It does hurt, but not as badly as you imagined. You let out a breath. You can do this.

“Ready for the needle?”

Yeah, you can’t do this. Your other hand reaches out blindly towards Simon. After a moment, you feel his touch: hand warm and solid where he laces your fingers together awkwardly. Neither of you have had much practice in the way of hand holding—and none at all with each other—but you feel his touch all the way in your toes, and you think that’s a pretty good sign.

“Make all the sound you want,” Johnny mutters, breath fanning across your outstretched arm. “It helps, trust me. On three. One—“

He pierces you. You suck in a breath through your teeth. “You bastard, that hurt way more than the clamp!”

“Yeah,” says Johnny, guiding the jewelry through your nipple. He looks down at you with a sad, strange smile. “I’m a liar.”

You shower together that night. The shower is small for a man of Simon’s stature. Add you into the mix and it’s positively tiny, but that just means you both have to stand close together, bodies brushing against each other with each movement. He puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to the spray to let the water run across your sore breast, thumbs kneading at the tense muscles of your shoulder blades.

You relax back against him, feeling his hard cock against the small of your back. He doesn’t do anything about it, so you don’t either.

“What’s the verdict?” you ask him. “Do you like it?”

“Is it important to you that I like it?” he asks, voice rumbling against your back.

You think.

“Yes,” you say.

His hand comes down to ghost over your unpierced breast, cupping it in his huge palm. Your hard nipple rasps against the calluses on his hand making you shiver even in the heat of the shower. He squeezes softly, pulling a sound from the back of your throat that is lost thanks to the roar of the water against the tiles.

His mouth brushes against your ear, lips damp: “I like it.”

You twist in his arms, his cock dragging against your slick body, and look up at him. His hair is plastered to his forehead, a shade darker than usual. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You guide his hand to your hair. “Hold this for me.”

You slip down onto your knees.

How’s the piercing healing? Simon messages you one afternoon. Soap won’t shut up asking me about it.

Give him my number, you suggest.

After a lengthy silence, Simon texts: He says he doesn’t want it.

And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Maybe it was some weird piercer/client boundary he didn’t want to cross, but Ghost had come across more stringent (in just about every aspect of life) and he had had no problem crossing the tattoo artist/client boundary to text you mock ups of your tattoo. Something in your gut goes sour. Something sows itself in the soil of your heart, something thorny and unpleasant, and you don’t like it one bit.

It’s fine, you tell him. I’m taking care of it.

Okay, he says. And that is the end of that.

The next time you see Johnny, it is Simon’s birthday. True to form, he does not make a big fuss of it, though it’s clear that this is the first birthday he has shared with a romantic partner perhaps ever.

He genuinely seems to appreciate the Bluetooth stencil printer you bought him as a gift (he’d looked at the wrapped present like he didn’t know what to do with it, unwrapped it with the same enthusiasm as a man walking to the gallows, but when he’d seen it, he’d given one of those slow, rare grins; the crooked ones thanks to the scar across his mouth), and you silently congratulated yourself on getting him something practical over something sentimental.

“The boys want to get together,” he says that afternoon. “I want you to come, too.”

How could you say no to that?

So you doll yourself up, wearing your nicest pair of skinny jeans and a sweater to keep away the autumn chill. You are giddy at the thought of meeting Simon’s other friends, so much so that you cleanly overlook Johnny’s hot and cold act. At least there will be others there to act as buffers between the two of you.

The pub itself is more crowded than Simon would like. He won’t even take his mask off, keeping his back against the wall and eyes on the door. Not for the first time, you wonder if he doesn’t have some sort of PTSD, something leftover from his time in the service. It would make a lot of things make a lot more sense.

You meet Kyle, who clasps your hand with both of his own, grinning so fetchingly. “Nice to meet you,” he shouts over the sounds of the pub. “Simon’s never brought a woman around before. You must be special.”

“That means be on your best behavior, Garrick,” Simon says dryly, shifting his mask to sip at a beer—the first you’ve ever seen him drink.

“Yes, sir.”

John arrives next. He’s older than the others, though there’s not yet any hint of silver in his facial hair. He smiles, eyes twinkling, and shares Kyle’s sentiments. It shouldn’t make you feel as special as it does, knowing that Simon hasn’t brought a woman to meet his friends before. But it does. It means something. The two of you still haven’t discussed exactly what your relationship is, but it seems clear in the eyes of everyone around you, which makes you feel a little more like you’re standing on solid ground.

Johnny arrives last. His easy grin falters at the sight of you. He slips into the other side of the circular booth beside John and barely greets you, barely even meets your eyes. You don’t shrink, necessarily—you’re aware that you belong here, celebrating Simon, just as much as Johnny does—but you do grow quiet, your arms crossed in your lap, leaning into the warm comfort that Simon’s body beside you provides.

The group together are downright boisterous. Even Simon comes out of his shell some as the drinks come and go, eventually tugging the mask down to rest beneath his chin. They tell stories that make you laugh, make you tear up, make you cringe, make you groan. It eases some anxious part of your heart to hear these uncensored stories, to learn more about Simon’s past straight from the sources.

It’s clear that their time spent serving together has made a brotherhood of them, and while a small part of you feels estranged as the outsider amongst this group, the larger part thinks it’s beautiful to see.

Simon deserves this, you think, as the group gets up: some to go to the bathroom, others to the bar, others to smoke. He deserves to be surrounded by people that love him.

You realize right there in that cracked leather booth of the bar that you are included in that.

You’re in love with him.

“Oh God,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your cheeks. Suddenly your head is spinning from the few shots you had shared with the others. Air. You need air.

Not spying Simon anywhere near the bar, you take your chances of running into him outside and step out of the pub onto the cool street. There is a bitter wind blowing that has you wrapping your arms around your middle, wishing you had worn a jacket over your sweater. Resting your back against the brick wall, you stare up at the moon and think. Nothing has changed between now and five minutes ago, except that now you are a little wiser to your own feelings. A little more aware of how invested you are in this undefined relationship. You don’t need to freak out.

You just need to talk to him and figure out where you both stand with each other. It is the only—

“You followin’ me?” You jerk, startled. Johnny stands there, having come around out of the alley, crushing the remnants of a cigarette beneath his boot. His cheeks are red from the cold, hands jammed deep into his pockets.

“What? Of course not!”

“Alright,” he says, his agreement sounding a lot like skepticism. He moves past you toward the pub doors.

You know that you shouldn’t. You know that for some inexplicable reason, Johnny doesn’t like you, and that you should take this at face value and leave well enough alone. But instead it makes something inside you feel needy and desperate, desperate for this closest friend of Simon’s to like you, desperate to fit it to Simon’s old life.

“Hey,” you say, catching his wrist. “We should plan my next piercing while you’re here.”

He visibly shakes off your touch. His eyes look back toward the pub longingly. “Yeah. Look, not much to plan, really, is there? Just let Simon know when you’re ready and he’ll text me.”

He opens the door. For a moment, the sounds and smells of the pub spill out onto the sidewalk, but then the door shuts and it is quiet and you are alone.

“Johnny doesn’t like me much,” you say to Simon on the way home. You’re driving—three beers in total had managed to make him tipsier than you thought possible for a man of his stature.

He snorts. “Soap loves everybody, and everybody loves Soap.”

You take your eyes off the road briefly. Simon’s figure is illuminated by a passing streetlamp, turning his silhouette into something gilded where he is slumped over in the passenger seat resting his temple against the cool glass of the window. “I don’t love him,” you say, hoping you don’t overemphasize any certain word.

Simon looks to you. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face. Not even being drunk affects the intensity of his gaze, the way it penetrates you, turns you see-through. Whatever he sees in your face must not be enough, because his head thuds as it hits the window again.

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a girl who was supposed to be mine ended up being for Soap.”

You suck in a breath, heart clenching painfully. Taking one hand off the wheel, you search for his thigh—find his knee and settle for it, stroking softly with your thumb.

“I’m not Soap’s, baby,” you say.

“No?”

You shake your head.

“Whose are you?”

“Come on, Simon,” you mutter, face hot. “You already know.”

“Are you mine?”

You nod.

“Don’t say it.”

You blink, glancing over to him. He’s watching you, eyes heavy-lidded and pitch-black in the darkness of the cab. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll make have to you pull over.”

Instead he makes you wait until he’s inside you, still feeling the rasp of his stubble against your thighs from where he had eaten you out. Then, his hands shaking, he asks you again, Whose are you? just to hear the way you chant over and over again: Yours, Yours, Yours.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #skin deep

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strnzzvsp · 2 months

Text

passenger princess

paring: dom!matt x sub!reader

warnings: car sex, semi public(?), oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (put ur weenie back in the package bruda), breeding kink, p in v, daddy kink, face fuckin and probably more

a/n: this is inspired by ‘passenger princess’ by nessa barrett! it’s an AMAZING song like go listen to it rn.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

you slowly stepped into matt’s van, sitting pretty on his famous leather seats.

“hi baby!” you greeted matt excitedly. he let out a small chuckle and replied with “hi y/n, why are you so excited. hm??”

there were flashing lights everywhere, someone must’ve been having a party. he put his hand on the side of ur seat and looked behind him as he started to reverse out of the driveway onto the highway, you paused for a moment, why are you excited again? oh yeah.. sin city… “cause you and chris are taking me to powerslap with yall! speaking of that.. where is chris?” you asked, “he’s coming tomorrow baby. he had a meeting about fresh love today.”

you replied to matt with a small hum when he said that and shifted in your seat. matt put his hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down. you shivered and tried to ignore the current heat that was building between your legs,

“what’s the matter ‘love?” he asked gently, only making you wetter. “n-nothing!” you replied with a smile and shifted again. god how much you wanted him go touch you under streetlights. you looked over and noticed a tent in his pants. you tilted ur head with a grin. “what’s that?” you asked with a giggle, matt looked down and turned red. he closed his legs, hoping it would become less noticeable. and less painful. “no, baby let me help.” you whined out, matt’s eyes widened and he swerved off the road. about killing yall in the process. (that’s a joke)

“fucking hell, y/n. your mean. you know that?” he asked. more so said. “aww yeah i’m so big and bad, aren’t i?” you teased the boy infront of you.

you replied while undoing his pants. a wet patch already on his boxers from pre-cum. “and what’s got you so worked up, hm?” you asked as you took his boxers off. he hissed when when the cold air hit his cock. you slowly took him into your hand then pumped up and down. “shit baby.. it’s that d-damn top.. it just..” he let out a groan and closed his eyes. you were wearing a skin tight dark red sweater that cut off midbelly button, it hugged your curves in all the right places and honestly made your tits look bigger than they were. (outfit here), you ran your thumb over matt’s sensitive tip, he bucked his hips up and gripped at your hair. “cmon baby.. don’t tease me. suck me off, yeah?” you immediately did what he asked. you bent over the middle console, arching your back just to tease him. you took the tip in your mouth and ran your tongue around him. matt pushed your head all the way down. letting out a guttural groan when you gagged. “yeah, that’s it.. gag on my cock baby. doing s-so good.” he breathed out. his free hand traveled down to your ass, he slapped it then grabbed the cheek he slapped and kneaded it the skin. you tried to lift your head to moan but matt kept you held down with his other hand. he started to thrust his hips into your mouth, he threw his head back and closed his eyes tightly as he face fucked you. tears running down your face as you tried not to gag, it was a beautiful sight. “fuck baby that’s it.. i’m so close.. oh fuck!” he yelled out, pouring his seed down your throat. he removed his hand from your head and sighed. “clean me up baby.” he demanded. you started to lick all the excess cum off his cock. you slowly sat up to spit it out but matt quickly shut that idea down. “swallow it or i’m not touching you.” you haven’t swallowed anything faster in your life, you let out a gag and looked at him. you stuck your tongue out, showing him you swallow it all. “good girl.” he praised, “now, do you wanna get fucked or be fingered? you can only have one, i don’t want a greedy whore for a girlfriend. do you wanna be something i don’t want?” he asked. “n-no i don’t..” he wrapped his fingers around your neck and applied just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. loving the new found pleasure of his cold rings on your neck. “so?” he questioned. “f-fucked. i wanna be fucked please daddy..”

he let out a chuckled and nodded “daddy? oh that one’s new baby.” he took a deep breath before pulling you on his lap “your gonna ride me without any help today babygirl. that okay?” you gulped and nodded. you slowly slipped off your jeans and panties. you hovered above his tip but failed to get it in each time. you let out a frustrated cry and put your head on his chest. letting out small needy sobs. he rolled his eyes and held you up, sliding into you. “so fucking stupid. making me do everything myself even when i said i wasn’t gonna.” he mumbled under his breath you let out another sob mixed with a moan before wiping your tears and slowly moving up and down. he put his hands behind his head as he watched you struggle. “your doing so good baby. that’s it..” he praised. you let out a desperate moan as you struggled to chase your high. unable to make him reach the spots he usually does. “m-matt.. please..” you begged, “hm? what was that baby? who’s matt?” he asked with a grin. “daddy! please daddy i’m sorry i just c-“ you cut yourself off with a scream like moan as he started thrusting his hips up at an unbelievable speed. “oh fuck.. so fucking tight.” he breathed out, gripping ur hips. “this pussy is all mine, isn’t it? all fuckin mine..” he groaned as your walls squeezed his member. he reached down and started to play with ur clit. you gasped and threw your head back. gripping at matt’s shirt. “matt im so close! please don’t stop im gonna cum!” you whined out. the brunette didn’t stop. instead he sped up “oh fuck i’m gonna breed this pussy. you want that? you want my baby deep inside your womb, don’t you baby?” you snapped at his words, releasing all over his cock with a scream, he looked down as a white ring formed around his base “that’s it.. such a pretty little slut, getting off just by the idea of my baby inside her.” he panted out, his thrust started to become sloppier. indicating his release, he let out a whimper like groan and came inside you. yall sat there in silence, catching y’all’s breath before busting out in laughter. “jesus matt! that was not you!” you stated with a laugh. slowly sliding off him. y’all’s mixed cum spilling out of you. matt pushed it back in with his fingers then put your panties on. you gasped and slowly got back in the passenger seat. matt licked his fingers and grinned. “can’t let any go to waste, can we?” you rolled your eyes and grabbed a random shirt out the back to wipe off, once you were back on the road matt slowly put his hands inside your panties since you didn’t put your pants back on. he slid two fingers inside you and you gasped, looking at him.

“gotta treat you right baby, you are my passenger princess after all.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

a/n: oh. my. god. this took me like 2 hours dude and i don’t even like it, anyway i might be making a part two of snap out of it, or not. i guess we’ll see🤷‍♀️

🏷️- tags in comments

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hsunrry · 29 days

Text

summer house // one shot harry styles

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: you agreed to be “civil” with your enemy.

words: ~2,7k

tropes: enemies (just at the beginning)

warnings: smut18+, oral (m receiving), protected sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talk (degradation, praise), slight size kink, mention of using sex toy

a/n: hi! so this is my first time writing something like this not in my native language, so i hope it’s not too bad! (PART 2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you and your two friends; Jenna and Matthew just arrived to Matthews’s summer house. you unpacked your stuff in your room and decided to go eat something downstairs. your eyes widened when you saw him. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same question.” he narrowed his brows. he looked at Jenna and Matthew that were sitting on the couch. “care to explain what is she doing here?”

“well, guys, you see…” Jenna started talking but you interrupted her.

“hope you guys at least know what you’re signed up for, inviting us both under one roof.” you said, clearly pissed, because honestly what the fuck. you looked at Harry and he had this stupid grin on his face. you rolled your eyes and went upstairs to your room. you could already feel him staring at your ass.

“i’m starting to think it wasn’t good idea at all.” Matthew mumbled. Harry was obviously pissed as well but he decided to act like an adult. he went upstairs where your room is. he knocked few times.

“yeah?” you responded, grabbing package of cigarettes and lighter from your bag.

“can i come in?” you heard him and you immediately rolled your eyes.

“no.” you said shortly, going in the direction of the balcony.

“oh come on, i just want to talk, give me 5 minutes of your time.” he said almost pleadingly.

“fine, come inside.” you said and you watched him walking inside with this stupid grin still plastered to his face. “what do you want?”

“to talk. can i borrow a smoke?” he leaned against the door, pointing at the cigarettes in your hand with his head. you raised your eyebrow and gestured him to go with you. he smirked and when you went outside you were both leaning on the railing. you placed cigarette between your lips and you lighted it. you raised the package towards him so he can grab one for himself. he grinned and he wrapped his lips around it, taking lighter from you as well. “thanks.”

“so what do you want?” you asked, grabbing lighter back from him. he hesitated before answering you.

“i just want us to get along for the summer, truce.” you only scoffed at his words. “come on, i’m serious. i know we’re not fans of each other, but i really don’t want to have shitty summer just because we have to be under one roof.”

“hate to say it, but maybe you’re right. for once of course.” you said, inhaling smoke. he looked at you surprised.

“wow, did you actually admit we should get along?” stupid grin again and urge to just kiss it off his face getting stronger.

“no, i admit we should be civil for Jenna’s and Matthew’s sake.” you said, looking in front of you at the dark forest, where the lake was shining from the moon between trees.

“fine, whatever you call it, princess.” he grinned, looking directly at you. “you’re staying for whole summer?”

you nodded. “you?”

“same, whole summer with you. lovely.” he took long drag from his cigarette.

“i thought we agreed to be civil.” you rolled your eyes and exhaled smoke.

“we did. it doesn’t mean i can’t tease you a bit.” he smiled, showing his dimples. you shook your head but small smile still appeared on your face. “looks like you’re enjoying it.”

“enjoying is a big word.” you said, rolling cigarette between your fingers.

“then what would you call it then?” his eyes never leaving your silhouette. you just shrugged. his eyes were focused on your face. “you look good when you smoke.” you narrowed your brows and you looked at him when he said that. his eyes widened slightly, of course it slipped. he tried to shrug it off so he just continued with it. “what? just because we don’t like each other doesn’t mean i can’t find you attractive.”

“maybe, yeah, i guess.” you mumbled, taking last drag from cigarette and extinguishing it on the railing. you tossed it somewhere to the forest. he did the same, looking at the stars.

“what are you gonna do for the rest of the night?” he asked, clearly interested for some reason.

“sleep, smartass.” you smiled slightly, looking into the forest. you could practically heard how his eyes rolled at your comment.

“i figured that much, what i meant is that it’s pretty early still.” he said, looking back at you now. you shrugged.

“i’m gonna lay in bed i guess, i won’t be sleeping till 4 am or something probably.” you said casually, fidgeting with lighter in your hand. he narrowed his brows.

“it’s because of your nightmares?” he asked almost immediately. you froze your movements.

“how do you know i have nightmares?” you asked, clearly taken aback from his question. he cleared his throat.

“i might overhead once when we were still in high school, when you were talking about it with Jenna.” you rolled your eyes at his words.

“okay, it’s whatever, we’re not talking about it.” you said and you started going into the direction of your room. he followed you. “i’ll try to fell asleep, good night Harry.”

“yeah, good night y/n.” he mumbled just before leaving your room. you sighed and went to the dresser, grabbing oversized t-shirt to sleep in and black panties. you quickly changed and you hopped into the bed. your joy from falling asleep fast never lasted long. you woke up with a scream. another nightmare. few seconds passed and Harry bursted through the doors. he watched your horrified expression and he immediately went to sit on the bed with you. he wrapped his arms around you, without hesitation. “everything’s okay, i’m here, you’re safe.” not thinking for long you went to sit astride his lap, hugging him and nuzzling into his neck. he wrapped his arms around your waist, rubbing your back with his hands.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled into his neck. your lips brushing against his skin and you could feel goosebumps appearing in this place. “for waking you up.”

“don’t apologize, it’s all good.” he responded quietly. his breath hitched in his throat when he felt your lips on his skin. “come on, look at me.” you pulled out from his neck. he cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “you okay?”

“yeah.” you said quietly. your eyes darted to his lips for a second. you instinctively licked your lips and your eyes went back on his.

“baby, don’t do that.” he muttered, licking his own lips. your eyes went back to his lips.

“call me baby one more time and i’ll fuck you right here and now.” you almost gasped at this point. second later you felt his lips on yours in needy kiss. you kissed him back immediately, parting your lips slightly to feel his tongue. his hands gripped your ass firmly, causing your moan into the kiss. he pulled you closer and you could feel how hard he was already. boxers being only thing on his body wasn’t helping at all in this situation. you went down with your hand to palm him over his boxers.

“fucking hell.” he gasped into the kiss when you started moving your hand. he squeezed your ass, another moan escaped your lips. he pulled out from the kiss to kiss and suck on your neck instead.

“fuck.” you gasped. he removed one of his hands from your ass and he slid it into your panties. you moaned at sudden action.

“so fucking wet for me already.” he groaned into your neck after starting tracing circles over your clit, making you squirm on his lap. he removed his hand from your panties to quickly take off your shirt. his hands touched your waist, going up to your naked breast. “so beautiful, y/n.” he said, wrapping his lips around your nipple to suck on it. his hand went to your other breast to squeeze it. “we have to go to my room for condom baby.”

“i have one.” you gasped, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair. he let go of your nipple and he looked at you.

“you planned fucking someone in this house or what?” he chuckled, leaving kisses on your breast.

“no, i’m using it for dildo sometimes.” you said, swallowing quietly. he stopped his actions and he looked at you. his eyes dark and you could tell his mouth dried from your words. grip on your hips tightened. images of you playing with yourself going through his head. you gripped his chin. “you’re fucking imagining it, aren’t you?”

“you can’t just say that and expect me to not do that.” he laughed devilishly. “besides… i wish you’d let me watch sometime.” he smiled slyly. you could feel you’re getting even wetter from his words.

“you’d like to watch, huh? you’re so fucking dirty.” you said, pressing your lips on his. “what would you do while watching me playing with that toy?” you mumbled against his lips. he groaned at the thought.

“i’d sit with my cock painfully hard, waiting for you to tell me when i can touch myself.” he gasped into your lips. you moaned into the kiss at this words. “now on your knees baby, you’ll show how much you want me.” you got down in front of him when he was sitting on your bed. he quickly took off his boxers, freeing his huge cock from it. you started drooling only from sight of him.

“of course you’re fucking big.” you gasped, spitting on his dick. he chuckled softly at your words, but it changed into the loud moan when you started stroking him. you leaned down, wrapping your lips around his tip. he inhaled sharply.

“feels so good already y/n. your pretty lips looking so good on my cock.” he praised and you almost moaned at his words. you started moving up and down on him, hollowing your cheeks inside. your tongue working on him. you wrapped your hand on the shaft where your lips didn’t reach to stroke him. his hand went to grab your hair. “sucking me like a fucking slut, such a good girl.” he was panting. you moaned around him at this words. you picked up your pace, looking up at him. his head tilted back and he was breathing heavy. “you’re so good for me, fuck, keep doing that and i’ll come so fast.” and oh god, you didn’t even thought about stopping it. you felt his thighs started to shake slightly since your one hand was placed on it. his grip on your hair tightened, his moans became shaky and uneven. “baby i’m gonna come, can i come inside this pretty mouth of yours?” he looked down at you, and you nodded immediately. after few movements of yours you felt him filling your mouth with his cum. his dick was twitching in your mouth. you slowed down your movements to help him come down from his high. you sucked him clean, swallowed everything and then let go of him. you were panting just like him. he immediately lifted you up to his lap and crushed his lips on yours. when he pulled out he gasped. “you’re so fucking amazing, you did so good for me.”

“i’m glad you enjoyed.” you smiled slightly at him. he chuckled softly.

“enjoyed is not right word sweetheart, i fucking loved that.” he smiled, stroking your hair. “i’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your name.” he lifted you up with him and your back met the mattress. your panties were suddenly gone and you watched him getting on top of you. “gonna finger you a little, yeah?” he gasped into your lips and without waiting for your response he slid two fingers inside you, knuckles deep. “so fucking wet.”

“holy fuck.” you moaned and your back arched from sudden action. you felt his fingers curling into perfect angle, pumping in and out.

“already clenching around my fingers, can’t wait to feel you on my dick.” he kissed your lips hungrily while fingering you. after few seconds he pulled out his fingers, bringing it to his mouth and sucking them clean. “fucking delicious y/n, you taste devine.” he opened the drawer of your nightstand. with condom in his hand he started to stroke himself, watching you and your body all the time. his lips were slightly parted and his cock already hard, ready to take you. he quickly opened the wrapper and rolled it onto himself. it was in fact a little tight on his length. his hands parted your legs as he positioned himself between them. his tip teasing your entrance, causing your moan. “gonna take me like a good girl?”

“yes.” you gasped, looking into his eyes. he entered you slowly, stretching your walls perfectly. you grabbed his bicep, digging your nails in it. your head tilted back from overwhelming feeling of how big he is. “fuck, Harry!”

“yeah? like how my dick is filling you to the brim?” he grabbed your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly. “you’re so fucking tight, already squeezing me deliciously.” his tongue flickered over your nipple.

“oh my god.” you moaned, arching your chest towards his lips. he started moving slowly at first, letting you get used to the feeling. “feels fucking good.”

“fuck, swallowing me whole with your pussy like goddamn whore. this condom of yours feels so tight on me y/n.” he panted, going slightly faster.

“then take it off, i’m on birth control.” you gasped, arching your back when he picked up the pace.

“holy shit, you sure?” you nodded at his question. he pulled out and he quickly took it off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. he groaned when he felt you raw like that. “fuck, y/n… gonna paint your fucking walls just right.” you moaned feeling him like this. he started moving so fast. you wrapped your legs around his hips to give better angle for yourself. when he adjusted you could feel him hitting your sweet spot with every move and you almost cried out of pleasure at that. “fucking found it, feels good?”

“so good, yeah.” you panted. his hands went on your hips to go even faster and you already could see the starts. your eyes rolled back and your whole body arched.

“you look like a fucking goddess like that y/n.” he panted, moving faster. “can tell you’re already close the way you clenching on my cock. gonna come for me baby?” his hand traveled to your clit to rub it and it was your last button, it all felt almost like too much.

“fuck, Harry, yes, oh my god!” you trembled when he started rubbing your clit. your pussy clenching on his cock hardly. “i’m so close, please.”

“my pleasure you fucking cunt.” he panted, moaning just after his words. he was on the edge. “come for me y/n. need you to come for me now.” you nodded.

“Harry, holy fuck!” you cried out when you came around his cock. your walls clenching around him and your juices milking him. your whole body arched and trembled.

“jesus, y/n.” he moaned loudly and you felt him coming deep inside you. hot sperm strands painting your walls and his dick pulsating inside of you. you both were breathing heavy. he collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. he placed few kisses there, before pulling out from your neck to look at you. “you’re amazing y/n.”

“you’re amazing too.” you managed to say after few seconds of heavy breathing. he placed few pecks on your lips before pulling out. you gasped at the feeling.

“fuck, this looks amazing babe.” he said, shamelessly looking at your pussy that was dripping from your mixed juices. “gonna get something to clean you up.” he said, going to the bathroom for towel, wetting it with warm water. he quickly but carefully cleaned you up. he laid down next to you, pulling you into his embrace, kissing your temple. “can’t wait already to watch you playing with that dildo of yours.”

PART 2

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 3 months

Text

࣪ ˖✧ Sweet Coffee

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: The morning after Sean's return party, a sheepish Arthur faces the consequences of his drinking excess. ✦ Warnings: None, this is as fluffy as the first part. ✦ Words: 3,9k ✦ a/n: This is a sequel of this one shot! Please, read it before this one :) Also, I've taken the liberty to write this as if Arthur still had Boadicea, to me it was the best way to make him have a canon horse. Gonna think about a better solution in the future.

You opened your eyes, slowly. The ceiling of your tent was turning a bit, your heart feeling like it was on the verge of leaking out of your chest. It was as if your bed was a boat, pitching with the winds and the waves; you had to prevent yourself from throwing up, a spinning sensation making your guts feel rancid.

Water. Coffee. Breakfast.

You thought to yourself while stretching in your cot, every fiber of muscles in your body feeling worn. Your brain was mushy, unable to form any complex reflection, your forehead hurting, your mouth dry. The consequence of every party; the goddamn hangover.

Water. Coffee. Breakfast.

You slowly sat at the edge of your bed, taking the time to move your tired members, realizing your throat was extremely sore. You probably sang a little too much last night. You get up and walk to the little cleaning area of your tent which consisted of only a simple table topped with a little mirror, a bucket of water, and a solitary towel. Nothing fancy, but at least you had your own tent, which was already a grand luxury at camp.

Water. Coffee. Breakfast.

You take long sips of water from the bucket before cleaning up your face, looking at it in the mirror. Of course, under your eyes, big shady circles, sickles of violet darkness under the sharp radiance of your pupils. It was part of the whole hangover package. You quickly fixed your hair and put on some fresh clothes, mindlessly.

Coffee, breakfast, Arthur.

Wait, what? You thought you were going on with your morning routine thoughtlessly, but here he was. Always following you, a shadow in the back of your mind; his stupid smile like imprinted on the obscure abyss of your psyche, shining, blazing, magnificent. Haunting.

You were thinking about him very often lately, maybe too often, you noted to yourself. John's word had sealed your opinion's fate on the matter: Arthur could have behaved that way with any other girl at camp.

And yet. Yet you longed for it, for last night to mean something, anything. For you to be more than just any girl to him. For the drunken honest words he had spoken before drifting away in the sweet caress of sleep to be true. You sighed. Too much false hope would lead your heart to be even more broken, you knew it.

And yet. The shadow of his smile. The sound of his deep, powerful laugh. Following you everywhere as you got out of your tent, eyes narrowing at the bright light of the day, almost as bright and vibrant as the subject of your thoughts; almost.

Your path led you more by habits than by an actual decision of yours to the campfire next to Pearson's wagon, and you were delighted to see one of your obsessive needs was already there: a hot coffee pot, releasing a small puff of smoke had been prepared. Blessed was the divine human being who made it. You took a cup and poured some of the holy providential liquid into it, the mere smell of it already waking you up a little bit. The taste was strong, bitter; rough like your life was as an outlaw in a gang, but at least it would help you clear your head and maybe get a certain someone out of it.

As you sipped on the warm beverage, you took a look around at your surroundings. The camp offered you a pitiful but quite amusing sight. It was a real mess, as if a tornado had passed by and turned everything upside down. The Ocean of empty bottles was still present, spilling everywhere between the different people's tents. People who were slowly emerging from them, with tired eyes and ruffled hair, some of them speaking more quietly than usual, rubbing their temples, navigating through shattered glass and chaos of debris, remnants of the agitation that had taken place the night before. You chuckled to yourself. One of the more feared gangs in the West? Certainly not after a party.

Abigail was already starting to clean the pieces of glass, getting angry about how this wasn't a proper place to raise her kid. Honestly, she was right, and you wanted to help her. Ms Grimshaw would probably force you to anyway, and this idea was reinforced when you noticed her from afar, already yelling at Karen to get up and start the cleaning.

Before getting attention from the strict woman, you took a step to go and do your part but stopped in your tracks. A familiar rugged face had appeared from his tent and was heading up in your direction.

Arthur was feeling too much. Too much sensations, too much feelings, just way too much of everything. His thoughts were trying to work as fast as he could considering his slowed brain, the aftermath of his excess from last night preventing him from being as efficient as normal.

The main focus of his reflection was you. He was obsessed to know what had happened, to understand why he had so many memories about you from last night, and quite intimate ones. He was praying he didn't do anything stupid with you; were you two even okay? Had he offended you? Had he been respectful? He needed to know, he needed to make sure he hadn't screwed everything up between you two. And at the same time, he was ashamed. So ashamed of having drunk so much he wasn't even able to remember what had happened. He was so anxious to confront you about it. To hear the truth, hear you say he had been a pig, and you'd never want to see him again, because that was probably what had happened. He was convinced of it.

As he saw you drinking your morning coffee by the fire from his cot, he quickly had changed, tried to clean up a bit, and made sure he had nothing stuck between his teeth or anything else of that type that could make him pass for an even bigger fool than he already was. He had chosen one of the less damaged shirts he had, a simple green but at least not holey flannel, all his clothes being more or less in a bad state anyway. Two leathered suspenders on, keeping black basic pants from falling. Damn, his reflection in the mirror looked even uglier than usual with his lack of sleep and post-party face. He sighed deeply, screw it. He needed to talk to you, at all costs, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything else properly otherwise. He tried to actually brush his hair, a thing he never bothered to do normally; he even tried to use some hair pomade, combed them in all directions possible, anything to make them look less messy. Nothing was working. He sighed again, getting angry, and just decided to put his hat on to hide this disaster.

This was already too complicated and he hadn't spoken any words yet.

Now walking straight to you, every step he took was followed by a worried thought, his heart tightening more and more as he was getting closer to the campfire you were standing next to. What had he done? Were you mad at him? Would you even agree to speak to him? Did he look good enough? Shit, he probably still must reeks of whiskey, he should have gone to town and taken a bath, stupid moron! But it was too late. Your eyes had crossed his, you had seen him approaching. There was no going back.

Finally arriving at the campfire, the poor nervous man stood at a respectful distance from you and cleared his throat. He didn't even had taken the time to think about what to say. Moron.

"G'd mornin', Y/N." He greeted you, his tone almost a bit too formal, a trace of his troubled state. His voice sounded huskier and harsher than what he wanted to, you were the first person he actually talked to since waking up and you could hear it with how hoarse his vocal cords were.

Besides it, you couldn't have guessed how much was going on inside his head; his expression was as neutral as usual, his own way of defending himself against the flurry of feelings that was taking place inside of him. You smiled at him, a mischievous, playful smile. You had so much to tease him about. Before the party, you two would already messed with each other a lot, and now you had a whole night of details you could use for it.

"Good morning, Mister Morgan... Guess someone was a little thirsty last night, mmh?" You answered, looking at him. His eyes crossed yours, he cracked up a smile too. His shoulders seemed to go down a bit, less tensed. In reality, he was so relieved to hear you tease him and to see your smile. You weren't mad. He silently thanked the Lord for that.

"I, erm... Maybe I drank a little t'much..." He replied with an embarrassed grin, his eyes looking at his feet before planting them back right into yours. He decided to ask you right away. Arthur never beat around the bush, this time was no exception. "L'sten, I don't... I don't remember much 'bout last night and... I hope I didn't bother ya."

His bright blue pupils were looking intensely into yours as he waited for your answer. He always looked at people like this, always keeping eye contact, as if it was a quiet duel and he would lose it if he stopped; but God, it made your heart melt a little.

"Oh, Arthur." You started, smiling some more realizing he was actually worried about you. "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. To me at least. I remember you losing your nerves and punching Micah in the face." You answered his question, chuckling in the end.

"Why, this bastard had it comin'..." Arthur replied, scratching the side of his jaw, the slight grin still present on his lips, telling himself that it was definitely something he was capable of.

"You sing pretty good when you're drunk..." You added, tone playful.

Arthur sighed, he was enjoying more and more of this conversation he had feared in the beginning.

"Oh stop it, I don't." He retorted, his fingers scratching one last time before falling to his belt, both his hands gripping it, a standing position he often had when talking and didn't know what to do with his arms. Honestly, you were quite fond of it.

"You want some coffee, songbird ?" You questioned with a teasing tone, already grabbing a new cup and the pot. You knew he would say yes.

"Yeah, thank you." He replied at first, before frowning. "Don't ya start calling me that!" He added with a firmer tone, but his small smile was still stuck on his face while grabbing the hot cup you were handing to him.

"You're also quite a dancer..." You teased him once more with your mischievous voice, knowing you were pushing his limits with your remarks.

"Damn it, woman! Can't believe I was worried 'bout ya, while ya're teasin' me like this..."

"Yeah, I'm such a nasty woman..."

"Nah, you're the sweetest." He corrected you, a bit too quickly for it to be innocent. A quick, subtle flicker in his eyes showed you he was surprised with himself; the words had come out on their own.

You smiled widely, cheeks turning a bit red. You were praying it wasn't too obvious to him. Arthur was still looking at you, two indigo miniature seas fixated on you, even while drinking his beverage. The more he was, the more those vivid memories he had were making their way back to his mind. While looking at your waist, he remembered having held it at some point during the party, which explained how he learned how your clothes felt underneath his fingers. His breath quietly hitched when he realized how he knew about the softness of your leg: he recalled having an arm curled up around it at the end of the night. Shit... He really had been unruly. After a short silence, Arthur spoke again. He wanted to make sure, he needed to make sure.

"Erm... Can I ask ya if we... Did anythin' happen b'tween us while I was drunk ?"

"No, you've just been a bit... Tactile. But nothing happened." You answered his question honestly, wanting him to know the truth. After all, Arthur was your friend, and there was a whole step between gently teasing and actually tormenting him. "Oh and, you said you loved me."

Arthur almost choked on his coffee, a short strangled sound escaping from his throat, some drops of the hot liquid falling on his shirt. The only decent shirt he had was ruined. But it was the least of his problems. What the actual Hell had gotten into him? He was an even worse fool than he thought, and the bar was already low.

"I... What ?" Were the only words he was able to form, one of his hands wiping the coffee from his chin.

"Don't worry, John told me you've made it a habit to tell women that when you're drunk, apparently. We don't have to make a bit deal out of this." You reassured him. He really looked ashamed of his behavior, and you didn't wanted to make him feel even worse.

But Oh Lord, if only you knew. If only you could have understood how much he wanted to make a big deal out of it; how much he had wanted to properly say those three words to you. He was almost disappointed in a way, that you were so quick to forget about it, as if it had been a simple joke to you, something amusing a drunkard had said in a moment of alcoholic eccentricity.

"Ah, alright. Well, I'm happy ya not mad at me." He simply added, honestly not knowing what to say or how to act anymore.

Tell her. Tell her she means the World to you. Tell her you have spoken the truth. This was the best chance you would have.

But the words were stuck, and as fast as a breeze would have swept away petals of flowers, Ms. Grimshaw asked for you with her usual severe call, and off you were gone, wishing him a good day and telling him he didn't have to worry about last night, even adding your typical teasing comments, advising him to join a choir were he could flourish his singing talent.

Looking at you walking off, he sighed again, calling himself a moron for at least the twentieth time since he had gotten up. Looking down at his cup of coffee, almost empty, just like the hurtful sensation he was experiencing right now inside his heart, he got angry again. This was enough. He threw the rest of the coffee on the ground, put the cup in his satchel out of habit, and walked straight to his horse.

The afternoon passed slowly and quietly. You basically spent it tidying up the camp, the number of dishes almost twice as big as usual, and the endless amount of bottles and garbage looking like it was only getting larger the more you were cleaning them up. Thankfully, Ms Grimshaw had put every girl in camp to work too, and you weren't alone on your impossible task while the men were back on their usual activities, whether it was lazying around for Uncle and the Reverand, guarding camp for Bill and Charles, or going back on jobs for the others. You hadn't seen Arthur since your morning discussion with him, and you had concluded he probably had gone somewhere to do his own work. As the sun was getting down, the camp had ultimately taken back its usual appearance, and you were finally free from your chores.

You decided to go to the edge of the camp, behind the wagons, where the cliff was starting and was offering a breathtaking view of the mountains in front of you. At this time of day, in the dusky sun, the landscape was painted with beautiful golden and bronze colors, dazzling blend of warm tones, ephemeral treasure from the last sunrays of the day before the settlement of the night's darkness.

Lost in your contemplation, you didn't hear footsteps approaching. The shrill and recognizable sound of spurs along with the heavy stomping of a horse's hooves made you turn your head from the literal work of art you had under your nose, and your gaze fell on another one from a different nature; Arthur was walking up to you, holding Boadicea's reins into his hands, his blue gaze already fixated on you, slight frown on his forehead, looking as determined as if he was going in for a fight.

He looked different from earlier, you swore he was wearing a brand new shirt you had never seen, a fresh white one, and a black jacket which must have gone with a fancy suit. As he was heading towards you, you noticed and could smell he had taken a bath, and trimmed his beard more than usual. He looked neat, refreshed, it was quite unusual for him. You could feel how your blood was rushing at the simple sight of all this: he was undoubtedly handsome, as breath-taking as the landscape around you.

"Y/N." He greeted you with a determined voice, once he had come close to you. He let go of the reigns, letting his mare free, but she stayed right where she was and started to graze happily. He took his hat off and held it in his hands, probably out of politeness. Such a gentleman, as always around women. You had always found it quite endearing how rough he was but at the same time how respectful towards girls, complying with conventions just like an honest man would. However you were a bit confused, he had never bothered to do that with you before, only with the women he didn't knew.

"Arthur, are you alright? Did Trelawny force you to get clean up ?" You joked a bit, genuinely surprised by his appearance and sudden polite behavior.

"What? N-no..." He stuttered. He never stuttered. You could feel it flowing into you like last night: this terrible, powerful feeling of hope. Your whole being was filled with it as your eyes were glued to him, like a moth to a flame, like a moon to its celestial body.

"I erm... I got somthin' for ya." He said almost shyly. Shyly. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing. It was nearly too good to be true.

Maybe... Maybe the words he had spoken to you... Maybe his tactile behavior... Your thoughts were going entirely crazy, spiraling around the deep feeling that something really important was on the verge of happening. You watched, in awe, as Arthur turned his back to you in order to pull off from Boadiccea's saddle a gorgeous flower bouquet.

"I know it ain't much but... I've picked 'em for you..." He said quietly, his voice slow and deep as usual, but also a bit more vulnerable. You could see just how flustered he was, how unusual it was for him to put himself in such a situation. And it made you more happy than anything for such a long time. Your eyes, traveling from his insanely cute bashful face to the flowers, were now stuck on it. The colors were vibrant and surprisingly well-matched, almost like a painting, the petals going from deep red to a warm golden yellow. You couldn't prevent a deep blush from flushing your cheeks; it really was warming your heart.

"They're beautiful! Thank you so much..." You marveled, vision attached to his gift, admiring every detail about it. After a short moment, as you realized he had felt silent, you spoke again, a wave of boldness crashing onto you. He had made a step towards you, now it was your turn.

"Arthur... The words you said to me last night..." You began, your eyes slowly ascending to look at his again. To your surprise, you found him looking away.

Another hint, another glimmer of the internal storm of emotions Arthur was feeling right now. Your own heart started to beat faster; the blood flooding so fast in your veins at this point you're wondering how the hell your body is keeping it all up together without collapsing under the pressure.

Arthur doesn't answer. Instead, he simply looks back at you, a flash of apprehension in his turquoise diamonds. He stays silent, unable to say anything more. His own heart must be on the verge of bursting cause you recognize the faintest of red on his own cheeks and a little vein on his temple. What a sight, to have this grown man, one of the stronger men in the gang, probably the fastest gunslinger of the State, blushing because of you.

"Those words were true, right?" You finish your sentence with an encouraging expression and the softest smile you had.

Arthur exhaled, closing his eyes for just a few seconds before planting them back into yours and nodding. Still silent, still stoic, still nervous. The slight blush was unhurriedly spreading on his face just like a flaming stain of watercolor on a canvas. Your very own art piece.

"I love you too, Arthur." You finally confided to him, voice soft and low, as if it was a confession you would have told him in the middle of the night, intimate as secrets you'd both tell each other in the ear while lying together in the same bed, arms interlaced, heart intertwined, as everything around you both would disappear. And in the moment, for Arthur, everything did.

He carefully brought a hand on the side of your face, never breaking his deep starring until the last second, and slowly bent over to put his lips on yours. Every move he was making was measured, contained; the exact opposite of his unleashed behavior at the party. You could feel just how cautious he was in that moment, as if he was scared to hurt you, or make you flee.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, never letting go of the bouquet that was now hanging behind his back in your thankful right hand. His own was still on your head, fingers gently caressing your skin as the kiss was dragging on. His lips, although chapped, felt good against yours, taking their rightful place there.

After what felt like an eternity of sweetness, he pulled back. If you thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to his cheeks right now, the deep crimson shade having completely recovered the canvas. Finally, his body's muscles relaxing, his features softening, a big, wide smile appeared on his face; the same that had been haunting you since the night before. The stupid smile. Just for you.

"I love you too, for real I mean." He let out in a soft drawling voice, once you had never heard coming from him. He brought his forehead to rest against yours, closing his eyes, not even processing this was really happening.

"I hope you'll sing again for me, Arthur." You couldn't help but add, a playful tone and a slight smirk on your lips.

"For ya, maybe, sweetheart. But don't ya come complainin' about the rainin' after."

#My own brand new dividers!#Arthur's photo is from my playthrough but the other pictures come from Pinterest.#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 photography #arthur morgan fluff #pinefic

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rinhaler · 11 months

Note

assuming ur reqs are still open, can we please get younger stepbro!megumi watching you get off through a peephole in the wall? and like you know he's watching so you call him a little perv and he gets harder 👀

i'm sorry if it's too specific sdjsdjsjjls ofc u don't have to do this, have a lovely day!!

-a follower who's too shy to come off anon

I hope this is okay for you! I've never really thought about writing a younger step brother thing before since I'm not into younger guys myself but I hope I made it fun for you to read, enjoy my angel!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, masturbation (m+f), voyeurism, vibrator use, stepcest ofc.

words: 1.1k

Going from being an only child to having a little brother was always going to be a big adjustment. It’s not like you’re that much older, but moving into a new home to accommodate a four person and two dog household was a big change. You had your own room on the ground floor of your old home. Your mother didn’t stop you from coming and going as you pleased.

But now, you have a room directly next door to Megumi.

You’re always butting heads and even your stepdad has been giving you trouble since your family merged. You have a curfew for the first time in your life. You aren’t allowed boys over and you haven’t been able to party in months. You’re frustrated. Constantly pent up from the lack of excitement in your life.

Megumi hasn’t helped the situation in the least. He’s a quiet introvert with a wicked tongue when he starts. You argue a lot, and he always gets you into trouble. You’re the wayward party girl. Whereas he’s the studious quiet guy that couldn’t ever put a foot wrong.

You’re going stir crazy.

And it’s been weeks since you got laid.

You took a risk when you decided to order a new vibrator to alleviate your tension. If you can’t satiate it with sex, a big pink wand will have to do. You didn’t want to get caught by a stupid mistake like your parents or your brother opening the parcel. So you ordered it to a friend’s house. She didn’t judge, but she dropped it off the very next day for you, winking and telling you not to have too much fun.

Fingers aren’t enough, they haven’t been for years.

The only thing that can relieve your growing tension is the buzz of a vibrator. You have small bullets and they do just fine, but if your stepdad is insisting on you having no life and no hook ups, you knew you had to up the ante.

The only other person home right now is Megumi. Your parents are at work and you quite frankly can’t wait to watch some porn and cum all over your toy. You hurry up the stairs and take it out of the packaging. You test to see if it has any charge, it does, and decide to forgo charging. You don’t care about a lengthy edging session. You just want to cum.

And you’ve known about the sick little hole Megumi drilled between your bedrooms for weeks now. He thought you weren’t home when he did it, opting to hide when he started peeping through. It’s behind a Weezer poster adjacent to his bed. You’ve seen the familiar green eye numerous times and opted not to say anything. Not because you want him to leer at you. But because you’re holding it to use as ammunition next time he really pisses you off.

You hear the indiscreet sound of his poster moving after you test the buzz of your vibrator. And you smirk, hearing how he carefully tries to unzip his pants and groans softly the second his hand holds his cock.

It’s an all too familiar sound, now. Him wanking over you at any given chance. It’s weird considering he has zero interest in you as a human being, doing anything he can to hinder your life. But watching you undress slowly everyday multiple times leaves him spent. And the intimate moments after dark that you have to yourself and the quietly playing porn you choose to watch on your phone are the highlights of his day.

He strokes himself slowly as you strip down to nothing, you’re teasing him as you fondle your breasts before getting comfortable on your bed. You settle for some lewd ASMR. A random man with a deep voice telling you what a good girl you are among other things. You do exaggerate a few moans, pretending that you have no idea that your brother is home and playing with himself over you.

It feels incredible.

You knew a wand would be powerful, but you had no idea to this extent.

“O-Oh, fuck, shit—” you gasp, cumming almost instantly as you up the speed to full. You’re shaking and shivering as your orgasm rips through you, and the sheer quickness of it all makes you burst into laughter. You cover your mouth, giggling, in a state of disbelief of how amazing this pink silicone toy is.

Megumi licks his lips, beating himself off quicker after realising you’ve came already. He hadn’t expected you to finish so quickly, but he keeps replaying the sound of your moans in his mind as he tries to chase you in your release. But he slows, again, when he hears you restart the wand. He grunts, too loudly, as he watches your hips roll into the wand, chasing the feeling of that release again.

“Such a little perv, Megumi.” you moan… not stopping the buzzing against your clit as you talk to him. “W-What would dad think? If he knew you were getting hard and cumming over me?”

He bites his lips, unable to believe you knew he was doing this. And even more shocked that you aren’t stopping, letting him watch you. Maybe even getting off on it? If he’s a perv, what does that make you?

But he knows he’s a perv. He’s had a thing for you since the minute he set eyes on you. Unable to believe how brazen you were with bringing boys home and making out with them without a care in front of your parents. Toji hated it, and so did Megumi. But he couldn’t deny it turned him on. And seeing how riled up you were getting after Toji’s boy ban was when he knew he had to take the plunge and make a little peephole for himself.

Spying on you every chance he got whenever you felt particularly needy or just wanted to change your outfit. He’s had so many jerk-off sessions to you thinking you were clueless.

But you’ve known… the whole time. It’s too much for him. It’s going to bring him to his fucking end.

“You’re such a slut…” he pants, his teeth piercing the skin on his lip enough to draw blood.

“I-I’d rather be a- a slut. Meg-umi. Than a gross little perv like you. Watchin’ me cum everyday… watchin’ me change… such a sicko. Hnng—!” you tense up, trying to hold back your orgasm while taunting your brother.

He cums, spurting white globs all over his fist and up the wall. You hear him hissing and grunting as he finishes, you even hear the sticky fisting sound over the buzz of your vibrator. He begins to pant, deep and heavy as a bead of sweat runs down his forehead.

“I hate you.” he mutters, putting his poster back down and moving away to clean himself up.

“Awe, come back Megs!” you giggle. “Don’t you wanna watch me cum?”

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slushycoookie · 3 months

Text

Put A Ring On It ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader 18+

★Word Count: 2.6k ★Content: You and Miguel try out some cock rings, praise kink, role switch between you and Mig, oral sex, vaginal penetration ★A/N: Starting off my sex toy series with something "light"! I hope you all enjoy it, took me a lot longer to write this. If you all want to be tagged for next ones, let me know! Dividers by @/rookthornesartistry

Masterlist | Commissions

You've been staring at him for the past ten minutes.

Miguel noticed right away when you kept idling by the hallway to the living room, wanting to ask him something but proceeded to do anything but that. He was curious but wanted to play the game a little bit longer. So he continued to read his book.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore when you approached him, hands behind your back.

“Took you long enough.”

“Be quiet.” You muttered as he chuckled, putting his book to the side so you have his full attention. “I wanted to ask you something…”

“Clearly,” Miguel says, brushing off your glare.

“This is serious.” You're trying to persuade him, even though he would do whatever you ask.

“Okay, well tell me.”

Immediately you show him a bunch of mini packages filled with rings- not the rings worn on the finger. These were of silicone material and in different colors. Miguel immediately knew what these were. “Can we try these out?”

“The cock rings?”

“Yeah! I got a bunch of different sizes. And you're a pretty girthy guy so I gotta make sure they fit.”

Miguel was holding back his ability to blush at how forward you were. He wished you would return to stalking him from the hallway, “If they don't fit, you have to take them back?”

You shake your head, “No, but don't worry about that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Miguel.” You shimmy, getting antsy about not receiving a yes or no answer from him.

“Okay. I guess it's good to test them before we… use them.”

“Yay!” You jump with joy, saying you'll be right back as you suddenly disappear. A silence loomed over him as he wondered what he had gotten into. He didn't have much time to regret if he wanted to as you returned with the rings wrapped in a towel and a bottle of lube.

“Get hard.”

Miguel laughs, “I know we've been married for a few years but I can't just get hard on command.”

“Your little friend says otherwise.” He facepalms at the small imprint in his pants. It was the cock ring talk, that's all.

You sit next to him, ring in one hand and some lube in the other. “Let me know if it gets too tight, okay?

He nods and watches you slick up his length before placing the ring on it. Currently, it was loosely placed around the base of his cock. The ring looked a little funny since you had chosen pink out of all colors.

Miguel didn’t get to laugh about it with you when your lips pressed along his neck. He immediately tilted his head to give you more access. Your soft lips left an invisible mark on his skin. His hand clenched around nothing while the other was on the small of your back. Nostrils take in your natural scent, ready to be absorbed by you.

A tightness formed around his cock. He glanced down at the ring fitting against his shaft and blinked.

“Does that look…bigger to you?”

You look down, “Oh yeah. The website said the rings do that.”

“Ah.” Miguel shifts, trying to tear his eyes away from how big he is. He was usually big but now he's huge.

“Does it hurt?”

He grunts when you run your thumb around the tip, collecting some pre cum. “No. Not at all.”

“Good.” You give him a reassuring kiss but he pulls you in for a deeper one, hand inching down to the curve of your ass. It lasts for a second as you pull away, “Miggy, we got a few more to do.”

“I'm sure they all fit. I trust your judgment.”

You dodge his advances, your index finger on his lips. “You get some after we're done.” He sucks his teeth but obliges, not wanting to ruin your plans. “Now, think of something nasty. You need to soften up again.”

“I don't know what that is.” He rolls his eyes.

“Don't be difficult.” You flick his shoulder, “Remember that time Peter explained to you in detail what Mayday's vomit looked like when she was sick?”

Miguel held his face in his hands, “Please don't remind me-”

“Like I'm talking the color, down to the texture of the vomit.”

“Okay, okay I get it.”

You glance down and he isn't as erect to your satisfaction. So you slip the cock ring off to grab the other one. Another simple ring, in a different color, black, with the same silicone material.

Instead of kissing his neck, your hands go under his shirt, stroking the hairs of his happy trail. He lets out a low groan at your teasing. Your eyes stare back at him with a glimmer of lust. And he knows you'd want to go all the way if you didn’t have a goal in mind.

“You're doing such a good job for me.” Your cooing words unexpectedly make him shiver.

“Don't say that…”

“Say what? The truth?” Your hand glides up to his pectorals, a thumb across his nipple while you still gaze at him. “My wonderful husband is doing a great job trying new things. You don't usually jump to explore new options. I'm proud of you.”

As you speak, your nails drag against his taut muscles. Your other hand gently gripping the curls in his hair. Miguel sighs your name and that familiar tightness comes back around his cock. His shaft stood tall and proud, the ring closed around him perfectly.

“It doesn't hurt right?”

“No.” He takes in a deep breath. Not at the tensity around his length but at the urge to pin you down against the couch. All because you praised him.

You notice his change in demeanor, “You sure? Don't act all tough now.”

“I'm fine.” He insists, “Are we done now?”

“No. We got one more.” You hold up an oddly shaped ring in a dark purple color, “This one has a vibrator attached to it.”

The push to get him to soften his cock works as you take the ring off, replacing it with the one that vibrates. He notices your face light up with excitement and he wanted to grab the back of your neck, wrap your pretty lips around his dick. Coat it with your saliva as it presses against the back of your throat. Almost making you gag if you weren't an expert in sucking him off. God, he hoped you would let him get what he wants.

You didn't need to do anything this time. His cock raised once again while his mind filled with obscene thoughts of you. Grabbing and fucking up into you in desperation. Feeling your wet cunt easily take him in as you beg for him to not stop.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask with a smirk.

Miguel gazes at you with hunger in his eyes, “Thinking about fucking you.”

“We’re not done yet…” That excuse falls on deaf ears when he reaches over to grab you. A shriek escapes your lips as you're now trapped under his arms, flushed along his chest.

“We are. You said this is the last one.”

“I did-”

“Then why can't I fuck my beautiful wife?”

“I didn't say you couldn't-”

“So let me.” A talon comes out, gently pricking your lower back. He grins at your back arching a little when he hits your favorite spot. Your hands digging into his shirt. “You don't want me to rip off your clothes, hm?”

You squirm, escaping his hold to shirk off your jeans and underwear. Before you took your rightful place, you grabbed a little remote and turned on the cock ring. The vibrations were sending a pleasant feeling along his shaft but it wasn’t enough to send him over the edge.

He smelled your arousal wafting in the air, getting him harder if possible. Miguel beckons you on top with the look in his eyes. So you oblige, smearing more lube on his dick before sinking yourself.

“Ooh…” Your walls involuntary squeeze him once the vibrator hits your clit.

“That's it…” He lets out a shaky breath, hands on your sides. “That's it, baby.”

Miguel thrusts up into you, your hands on his shoulders. The vibrating ring makes you whimper, forcing him to grip your sides with restraint. You sounded so pretty for him with a twinge of desperation. The lazy rise of your hips before you sunk back down was driving him insane. He unknowingly held his breath while watching you.

“You like that? Does that feel good?” Your nod fell short as you cried out from another thrust.

“M-Miguel...”

“I got you.”

With his occasional thrusts and the ring still vibrating on your sex, your breathing was getting heavier. Faster. He knew you were close as he rolled his hips into you. Making you incoherent. Unable to get back that pleasant, dominant aura you radiated. Now, you were at his mercy. He felt you trying to pull away, to escape the impending doom of your climax. Instead, Miguel held you close to him for your release. When you cried into his shoulder, your walls molded around him perfectly. He held the nape of your neck, keeping you still as he thrust up into you. Shaking your entire body with his actions. For his cum to coat your walls and the vibrating ring.

A sticky mess pooled between both of your thighs. The two of you holding each other to come down from your high. You didn’t say anything, but Miguel knew you were going to get back at him later.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･

“Please, I’ve been good…” He said while on his knees, hugging your exposed leg as that was the only thing he could do without facing your wrath.

“Have you?” You were unfazed, scrolling your phone as if it was more important than him groveling.

“Yes. I don’t know how long I can take of this, mi ángel.”

“You sure?” Now, you were looking at him, a slight tilt to your head. “I thought you were fine when we made out in your lab earlier.”

Miguel huffed at the memory. All day, you were teasing him. Stroking his dick during your morning shower. Sticking your tongue in his mouth before he left for work and back to his lab. Where you wrapped your legs around him while sitting on one of his consoles. Grinding your hips against his hardened length, with the intent of making him cum under his suit. Only for you to stop, saying you didn’t want to distract him from work. He was in desperate need of you or else he was going to explode.

“I was-am fine.” He swallowed, “But it’s been a long day and I need…” Miguel travels up your bare thigh, feeling the fatty part of your body while looking at you.

“Say it.”

“I need you. Please.” He kisses the palm of your hand when you cradle his cheek and you take mercy on him.

“Okay. You did do well in holding out for me today.”

Miguel can already feel himself getting hard from your praise when he stands to coat your face in kisses. Each filled with relief and gratitude. He doesn’t take over just yet, unsure if you were going to switch things up for him at the last minute. Which you do when your hands gently push at his chest to get him to stop.

“You think you can be good for another twenty minutes?”

He nods with fervor, “Yes, yes I can.”

You kiss his lips to thank him before telling him to stay by the kitchen counter. You disappear for a moment, coming back with the signature bottle of lube and one of the cock rings. When your lips combine, Miguel moans against them, in need for any type of contact. He feels your fingertips glide along his forearm to his watch, pressing a few buttons to reveal his semi-erect cock. Inches from his face, you swiftly coat him with lube, putting the ring around his shaft.

“Don’t cum until I say so.”

Miguel doesn’t trust his voice so he hopes his nod is enough. A knot forms in his chest when you slide down, your lips leaving a wet trail down to his cock. You gaze at his shaft with intrigue, it being hard and ready for you. “Don’t choke.”

“I won’t.” You flash him a look of appreciation before wrapping your lips around him. A shudder escapes him and he grips the counter for dear life. Not focusing on how warm your mouth felt. How easily you were vigorously sucking him off, careful to not slip the ring off and catch in your mouth. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus on not orgasming until you say.

“Look at me.”

It took all the willpower he had to not cum when he looked at you. A mixture of saliva and lube on your face creates a mess. But you didn’t care when you took him in again, moaning amongst his shaft. Eyes locked with his own. So you could see his face twisted in undeniable pleasure. He wasn’t sure if he was going to last five minutes. His body ached for release, but he wasn’t going to defy you again.

Miguel took deep breaths to stabilize himself. The need to coat your mouth with his seed lessened and he kept his self-control. He wasn’t sure how many minutes passed since you started, but suddenly you pulled away with a wet pop. Wiping off your drool with the back of your hand. He honed on your frame as you stood, slowly removing your panties. Only leaving you in the oversized shirt, his shirt while bending over the counter. The shape of your wonderful ass in his view.

He didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if this was another play at him.

You look behind you, wiggling your ass a little. “Come on, big guy.”

Miguel was on you instantly.

With one swift motion, he entered you, letting out a loud groan at how soaked you were. His large hands grab your hips, making sure you don't move an inch. His thrusts were rough, a bit out of sync. He was too absorbed in finally fucking you the way he wanted all day. Hearing you squeal and moan underneath him while railing you to submission.

“Ooh right there…” He notices your back arch when he pounds into that sweet spot, your feet dangling in the air when he lifts you. The palm of his hand sprawled across your stomach while the other was so close to breaking the countertop.

His balls clenched, almost tipping over in his relief. But you haven't told him if he could come yet.

“C-Can I?” He grits his teeth, still trying to hold back for your permission.

“Yes-oh!”

Miguel presses you flat on the counter, a final thrust before he releases inside you. An intense orgasm that causes him to be more vocal, whimpering and groaning in your ear. Slow thrusts inside to get as much stimulation as he can before pressing along your head. Your sweaty scent and arousal linger in the air.

When he slipped out, he took the ring off before giving it back to you. He didn’t make eye contact, knowing the smug look you'd have on your face when he asked, “Can we go again tomorrow?”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

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bigification · 6 months

Text

Bear Darts

"Yes! They finally came in." I say in excitement as I pick up a package in front of my dorm. I rush inside and rip open the package. 8 small darts with a weird green liquid inside and a bamboo tube. "There's no way they actually work right?" The website seemed so legit and the concept seemed too good to be true. "Guaranteed to transform any man into a certified bear." Was the tag line. I am tempted to jab one of them into my arm right now, but I'm too nervous. What if it's just poison or something? I should at least test it out, it'll be fun anyway.

I stuff the darts and the bamboo into my bag and head to campus. Who to start with? Mr. Henderson could be a good option. I don't like him so if it goes wrong I don't care, and he's pretty scrawny so I'll be able to see any difference. I decide to head to Mr. Henderson's office, figuring he'll be a good test run.

On the way, I come across a raccoon rummaging through garbage in an alley, and an idea sparks through my mind. If it's that harmful, it would hurt a raccoon, so I might as well test them out. I pull out a dart and the bamboo and head into the alley. I slot the dart into the end of the bamboo, line up the shot, and blow as hard as I can. I hear the swoosh of the dart piercing the wind. The dark hits the raccoons back and it barely reacts, as if it's just a measly mosquito bite. The green liquid drains out of the dart, and I wait for a reaction. It doesn't take long for the animal to start twitching. It's hard to tell in the shadow of the alley, but my kind went straight to the worst, it was poisonous. But then I saw its body change shape. It wasn't much, but its scrawny limbs grew thicker, its belly grew rounder, and its grubby little paws grew larger. By the end, it still resembled a raccoon, just larger and meatier than you'd expect a raccoon to be. Could this be real? I continue watching as the raccoon resumes its normal activities.

I let out a chuckle in excitement at what was yet to come. I walk back out of the alley and speed walk to Mr. Henderson's office, this was gonna be good. The website said results may vary depending on what the person looked like before the transformation, and based on other things like genetics. Essentially it's random. But I was still hoping to see Mr. Henderson with a big hairy gut spilling out of his shirt.

I finally make it to his office and I slowly open his door just a sliver. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking over at the wall to the left of the door. I feel confident enough that he's not able to see the door from the way he's looking. I look over to see he's very concentrated on a bunch of photos hung up on the wall, which makes sense as he's a photography prof.

I take a mental image of the prof before I line up the shot, so I can compare the before and after in my mind. He's got buzz cut and a bushy salt and pepper beard. His frame is quite skinny but I can see a little bit of a belly and moobs under his shirt. That shirts definitely not doing him any favours, I wonder what it will look like on him after. His arms and legs are scrawny, with little fat or muscle on them. He's also wearing some camo shorts.

Now with his image locked in my head, I prepare a dart and like up the shot. Same with the raccoon, I blow as hard as I can and the dart lodges into the side of his belly. He flinches for a moment, but then stops in places. I can see his muscle twitching, as if they're cramping and freezing him in place. It all happens so quickly. It starts with his belly. His small belly grows in waves of soft fat, each wave packing dozens of pounds. Each wave makes his gut jiggle more and more as it grows rounder and rounder. His gut and his love handles spill over his waistline as his shirt rides up, revealing a stretched out belly button. Soon enough, it appears as though he stuffed a small beach ball into his stomach with how large it is. Though it is soon complemented by a growing pair of soft moobs. If what he had before were moobs, he now has full on man tits. They're soft and round, pressing tightly against his shirt. I can even see his nipples harden under the shirt. Next to fall is his ass. His once flat derriere quickly plumped up similar to his belly. Waves of fat perked up his ass as it threatened to rip through his shorts. The button on his pants popped off and flung across the office in dramatic fashion, leaving his fly wide open. His arms and his legs thickened slightly as a layer of fat covered them, though they stayed quite skinny in proportion to his body. Also, in the process, his beard had grown out and became almost all grey.

The entire time I could feel my dick riding up into my waist band. This was so much hotter than I expected it to be. I want to go in there and get my hands on that fatass so bad, but I have to have restraint. His muscles have stopped twitching and he seems back in control, though he still seems laser focused on the wall of photos. He reaches to scratch his belly and seems a bit shocked at the fact that he's scratching skin rather than shirt. "Huh, I coulda sworn this fit yesterday, musta shrunk in the wash." He shrugs, completely oblivious to the changes his body had just gone through. I don't know if I find it more or less hot that he seems to not care that he's a fatass. I don't have time to think about it though, as he starts to turn towards the door. I quickly grab my bag and run. I'll get to see him for photography class tomorrow anyway.

I think about who I want to hit next. I've got 6 darts left and plenty of profs on my list. Now that it seems safe, I'm more willing to go for profs I like. So I think one of the hottest prof off the top of my head. Mr. Ahmed. God he's hot. He's got perfectly toned skin, a thick black beard, and beautiful eyes. The only thing is he's quite skinny, and I like my men thick. So this is the perfect opportunity, and his office is close by.

I arrive at his office and see him just on his phone. My mouth salivates as I think about what I'm gonna do to him. I pull out a dart and shoot it. It lands right into his biceps and the green liquid rapidly drains from the dart. My hand instinctively drifts to my crotch as I wait in anticipation.

He froze in place, just like Henderson. But this time it started from his arm instead of his belly, it must be from wherever the dart hits. His once skinny arm swells, ripping his sleeve in the process. His forearm followed suit, growing a thick pelt of hair in the process as his delicate hand grew into a monstrous man hand. The transformation continued into his shoulders, then to his chest. His shoulders broadened, pushing his small shirt to its limits. Then his suddenly exploded outward, tearing straight through what was left of his shirt. Thick muscles now lay under thick man tits as they hand over his stomach. His already thick chest hair became more dense as his nipples grew large and sensitive. His other arm quickly grew just as large as the first, evening out his hulking body. His exposed belly went from flat to large and rotund in a matter of seconds, though it remained quite solid from strong muscle that grew below it. His gut befell a similar fate to the rest of his body, being covered in a layer of dark hairs.

His lower half quickly grew to match his upper half. Fat and muscle flooded into his ass and thighs until his dress pants ripped in dramatic fashion, leaving him in nothing but his extremely tight underwear, leaving little to the imagination. The legs continued to grow, and his feet seemed to grow at least five sizes, busting out of his shoes. Finally his facial features began to change. The rather young professor looked as if he aged 15 years in just moments as wrinkles and blemishes riddled his face, and his hairline receded slightly. His face also seemed to become a bit chubbier, matching his hulking gut.

He finally unfroze, seeming unfazed by changes in his body. He reached to stretch some of his muscles, I'm sure they're sore after such an intense transformation. But he quickly realized his lack of clothing and left to a backroom to find some. The idea that he wouldn't be able to find any clothes that remotely fit him made it all the more hot for me, but I got out before I got caught.

I was on top of the world, there was no way I would stop now. I thought about who to find next, and the choice seemed obvious. Mr. Salim, how could I forget the health and fitness prof. Ive never had him, but damn it is tempting to take a fitness class just to get to look at him more. He kinda looked like Mr. Ahmed but buff, cocky, and far more charming.

I quickly made it to the fitness building and found his office. I peaked in and saw him working out with his earbuds in, this was my shot. Without hesitation I load a dart and shoot. I chuckle quietly as I see the dart lodge into his ass. He goes to scratch his ass but fails to notice the dart, soon after he drops his weights and freezes in place. His already perky ass grows slightly, but not as much as I'd expect. Still enough to pants ride down his ass a bit, revealing a bright blue jockstrap. Of course Mr. Salim would wear a jockstrap. His thighs grow significantly, bulging with muscle to the point of ripping his pants. The rest of his legs follow suit, growing thick calves and massive feet.

I can see under his shirt that his waist is tightening up, which is surprising given that he's the first one to not get fat. A little disappointing if you ask me, but I'm not disliking what I see so far. His shoulders broaden and his chest puffs out, ripping right through his shirt. His arms nearly double in size, making his look like a bodybuilder as his hands grow to match. His face seemed to age as some of his hair turned grey. As he aged, his already hairy body became even more so, covering most of his body in thick salt and pepper hair. Even his stubble grew out into a thick silver beard.

Mr. Salim put down his weights, got up, and walked to the mirror in his office. He turned so he could see his ass in the mirror and snapped a photo.

A part of me was hoping to see him become a fat slob, something about fat gym teachers always got me going. But I certainly wouldn't complain about this view.

The health and fitness building is right beside geography and history, so I should head there. I try to think of a teacher I've had in this department. Maybe Mr. Smith? I had him for first year history and he's hot, I just remember him being a bit weird. That doesn't matter, I'm already on my way to his office.

I peak through his door and see him focused on his computer, perfect timing. I load a dart and shoot it. It hits him in the side of his thigh. Within moments I can see his jeans struggling to contain his growing legs. His jeans become even tighter as fat fills his ass, creating a loud pop sound as his belt snaps off.

His slim torso expands until he has a thick muscle gut and love handles that spill over his jeans. His chest grows into two strong but soft looking pecs that are impossible to miss through his tight shirt. His arms explode with muscle, making it look like they're gonna rip his sleeves. Finally his face fattens up a bit as a short beard covers his soft jawline.

Mr. Smith leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his tank of a gut.

It wasn't what I expected for Mr. Smith to be honest. I expected him to turn into a big fat history teacher, but he is hotter as a muscle chub. As I'm watching, he goes to unzip his jeans. He whips out his massive dick and starts to jerk off. Damn I didn't expect Mr. Smith to be packing that, but maybe it's a side effect of the darts. I keep watching until he swivels his chair in my direction, I can't risk being caught so I leave.

I look at my watch and realize I've lost track of time, I have a math class right now. I run across the campus to my math class and quietly sit at the back of the theatre.

I quickly get bored and wonder if I should hit Mr. Derrick with a dart in the middle of the lecture. It's risky but I'm bored so fuck it. I pull out the dart and try to shoot it as quietly as possible and it hits him square in the stomach. Mr. Derrick is a very scrawny man, so I'm curious about how it's gonna effect him.

As soon as he gets hit, he stops talking and freezes in place, but weirdly enough, no one in the class seems to notice. The man's skinny body explodes with fat. At first he grows a small pot belly, then a sizable beer belly, then it settles as a giant ball gut that looks like he stuffed a beach ball down his button up. I'm surprised his shirt has ripped yet. His chest grows two man tits that are visible through his shirt. The sleeve of his jacket starts to look like stuffed sausages as his fat arms fill out all the space in them. The man's thighs thicken until his pants start to rip and his fat ass causes his fly to rip open. Finally his clean shaven face grows a thick brown beard.

He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. His lack of awareness of his body makes even more hot. I can't believe he ended up that fat, I can see his gut spill out of his shirt each time he reaches up. And every part of his body bounces when he walks around. Eventually he ended up sitting down for the second half of the lecture, and he was often out of breath from just talking.

Once the lecture is over, I walk up to the front of the theatre and talk to Mr. Derrick.

"Hey, I've been struggling keeping up with the material lately, I was wondering if we could have a one on one session?" I ask him.

"Oh ya for sure, just come by during my office hours and I'd be happy to help." He responds. The man is practically panting at this point and I can see the sweat start to drench his beard.

"By the way, I don't think that shirt fits you anymore sir." I say just to make him uncomfortable. He just looks down, blushes, and runs off. Hobbling as fast as he can out of the theatre.

I got two darts left, I should use them wisely. The only teacher I can think of right now is Mr. Brown. His voice is so deep and buttery but his body doesn't match it, he's really skinny. I think he'd be better off as a bear anyway.

I make my way to the athletics facility, I've had him for French and English class, so I know where to find him. He works out around this time most days, so I make my way to the gym. As I walk to the gym, I see him in the corner of my eye in the showers. He's turned away from me, so I quickly take my shot, hitting him in the back. His back muscles grow and become more defined before a thick layer of fat covered them and creates thick rolls down his back. His stomach grows into a sizable belly with a thick belly button. His chest expands, first to juicy pecs, but then they slowly soften into a pair of moobs. His traps grow as his shoulders broaden, I also notice that he's getting taller, like a lot taller. He was shorter than me, but now his head is well above the shower head. His arms grow to match the rest of his hulking body.

Next his ass widened and started to sag slightly under its own weight. His thighs thickened until they rubbed together and his feet grew from a size 11 to a monstrous size 20. I also noticed his dick grow to at least 10 inches, if not more. All the while he was still getting taller, by now his shoulders were above the shower head. Finally his facial features became softer and fatter as the hair on his head fell out, although his stubble grew into a thick black beard.

As the transformation ends, Mr. Brown reaches behind him and grabs the dart out of his back. He's the only one to have noticed it. He looks at the dart for a moment, then turns toward me. I try to duck behind the wall, but I think he saw me. I hide in one of the bathroom stalls until I hear him leave, with the size of that man, it's not hard to tell where he's walking.

Once I can't hear him anymore, I rush out of the stall and grab my bag. But just as I reach the door, I bump into Mr. Brown. He's waiting at the doorway with a small green towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's this?" He says holding up one of my darts. Interestingly enough, it's a full one. The one I shot him with should be empty, so that means. Oh no. I look through my bag, the last dart is gone. Before waiting for a response, Mr. Brown just grabs my arm and jabs the dart into it.

I feel frozen in place. My clothes feel tighter and tighter until I hear them rip. I feel the warmth of the locker room air touch my bare skin. I start to feel itchy all over my body as my perspective shifts higher and higher. I feel so strong. I feel like I've grown a foot in height, but I'm still at eye level with Mr. Browns chest.

I finally gain control of my body and look down at the damage. I have thick pecs and a little bit of a belly, all covered in hair. Thick arms and legs, also covered in hair, actually my entire body is now covered in hair. And the bulge in my underwear is massive.

I turn my attention back to Me. Brown.

"Where did you get these?" He asks in his deep intimating voice. I stutter for a moment. "I'm not gonna snitch, I just got a few people I want to use it on." Mr. Brown asks. My fear turns to excitement as I realize the damage Mr. Brown and I are gonna do together.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #male wg #reality change #muscle tf #male transformation

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daydreams-after-dark · 5 days

Text

Good things come in small packages Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 7.4 k

A/n: SURPRISE!!! I know I said this was being released approx next Monday, but.... I wrote it quicker than I expected. I want to thank you for your patience with this installment. There was a point there where I almost didn't have it in me to write it. But your words of encouragement helped spur me on.

I hope that you enjoy part two of this fic. There's a lot of emotions, sickly sweet moments, and a surprise character features too.

CW below the cut

C/W: unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, rough sex, angst, brief themes of depression, fear of suicide (just a fleeting thought), size kink?

Previously:

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

------------

Han just stares at you blankly. Then realization hits him, causing him to spring out of bed and look around the room frantically.

"Hannie?" You say again. "Hannie, look at me." You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you. It's as though your gaze anchors him and he appears to calm down somewhat. His eyes soften and he looks at you like he's looking at you for the very first time, just as you are with him.

You already know he has an incredible physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, toned muscles. But standing before you right now he’s breathtaking. But you don't love him for his body. You love him for his heart.

Standing fully naked in front of you, he seems less real than when he was small. How can this be happening? It's impossible. Right?

"Noona?" His eyes drop to where your gaze has fallen. Right on his cock, still semi hard from his morning wood. It's the most delicious thing you've ever seen. So much bigger than you expected too. You can't help but imagine all the things you want to do with it. You have imagined it plenty over the past year. How you want him to fill you up, or make you choke on it. How it tastes. How it feels in your mouth.

"Hey!" he covers himself with his hands. "I'm going through a crisis and you're staring at my dick!" He exasperates. He narrows his eyes. "Oh my God, Noona? You know what this means?" His eyes light up with excitement.

"I do, Han. Trust me, I know. But first we need to figure out what is going on. Why this has happened." You take another step towards him, closing the distance, and with shaking hands you reach out and touch his chest. You feel his heart pounding and it makes your heart beat faster too.

He's real.

"Do you think my wish has finally come true?" he whispers. "I wish it every night before I fall asleep. That I'd wake up and be human sized."

You look up to meet his gaze. His gorgeous big brown eyes. "I wish it every night too. It's just... this doesn’t make any sense.” You pause. “Wait. The manual. Maybe it says something in that?”

Without giving him any warning, you snap into action and disappear into your walk-in wardrobe, returning with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee.

"Here. Put these on. I can't be getting distracted." You say and hurry out of the bedroom.

----------

"I thought you said you'd studied the manual?" Han says suspiciously whilst chewing on the scrambled eggs and toast you quickly cooked for him. You were quite happy to forgo your breakfast so you could search for answers, but his stomach rumbled so loudly you couldn’t ignore it.

While he scoffs down his breakfast, and you're still in your pajamas, you pore over the instruction manual spread open on the dining table, looking for any information that might help.

"Well... I kind of only read about how to keep you alive. You know, like how often I needed to feed and water you." you reply casually. Inside, you wish you had read the rest of the information. Maybe you would have had a heads up about this and you could have prepared yourself?

"Do you think I'm going to be like this permanently? Like the first year was a test of your commitment or something? Maybe I could learn guitar? Or cook? Or-"

"Okay. I've got something." You interrupt. "It says here: At twelve months of ownership, your companion will transform into typical human size-"

Han's eyes light up excitedly. "Wait! So this means?"

You hold up your hand to hush him. "There's more." You say. "He will remain in this state for 48 hours, before returning to his original size."

“Oh.” Han’s fork clatters on his plate. You look up at him as his expression changes from excited and hopeful, to absolutely crestfallen and deflated.

"I'm so sorry, Hannie." you whisper. You know how badly he wants to be big. You watch as he swallows a lump in his throat, and without a word, he stands and walks into the kitchen to look out of the window above the sink.

————

Forty eight hours? So It's not permanent? What kind of fucking idiot is he to think he'd ever be able to be a human? He tries to fight back the tears as he looks out of the window.

It's a beautiful, sunny morning, and usually on a day like this he'd climb up onto the windowsill and watch the world. There's a little strip of shops across the street that he especially loves to watch. His favorite is the flower shop. Observing the customers going in and out buying flowers and bouquets for loved ones. They’re such pretty colors too, the flowers. He’d love to be able to buy flowers for you.

A lady about your age works there, and sometimes another man is there too. Han doesn’t see him there often, but knows he’s someone special the way the shop owner and him look at and hold each other. Maybe he travels for work? He's often wondered as he sits on the windowsill.

He's broken from his thoughts when he feels your arms wrap around his waist and you lean against his back. His eyes close softly, and his body relaxes as he savors the feeling of being embraced in this way for the first time.

"Hannie, I know we don't have long, but maybe if we see it as a gift?"

He turns in your arms to face you, and wraps his own arms around you. You feel so good like this. In his arms. Holding so much of you in one go. Feeling your entire body pressed against his. It's better than he ever imagined.

"You're right." He says finally. "We can't waste a minute of this precious time. There's so much I have to do to you." His dick twitches when he sees your cheeks flush. He knows you're not shy, but if you feel anything like he does right now, then you’d have to be trembling on the inside.

His hand slides up to hold your jaw tenderly as he brings his lips close to yours. Sure he's kissed you, parts of your lips - both sets even, and other parts of your skin. But your lips in their entirety? He feels so scared, so nervous. What if he's a shit kisser?

"Stop thinking, Han Jisung." You say and connect your lips to his.

His lips fit yours perfectly and he melts into them with a moan. He kisses you slowly and carefully and a warmth spreads throughout his body. He hardens immediately when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth to find his. Your tongue, the one that’s licked his entire torso in one sweep, is currently inside his mouth.

He allows his hands to wander lower to cup your ass. He loves your ass and often stares at it when you're doing housework in your tight little exercise shorts. Another moan escapes him when he pulls you even closer against his body. Touching so many parts of you all at once has him feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. What will it be like when he’s inside you as well? He has to know.

He lowers his hands a little more to lift you up and you wrap your legs around his. Then he’s carrying you - actually carrying you - to your bedroom.

Your room is still filled with the warm sunlight, and Han is glad because he’ll be able to see absolutely everything. He lays you gently on the bed and kisses you deeply, then sits up to kneel between your parted legs.

“I think these need to come off.” He announces, flicking the waistband of your pajama shorts.

You smirk. “You do, huh?”

“Yes. We need to be naked.” He starts tugging off your clothes, then his own.

You look stunning beneath him, and you feel the same way about him. The sunlight hits his honey skin perfectly and you feel a surge of love for the man above you.

This is actually happening, is the thought going through both your heads.

Han gulps as he drinks you in with his eyes. Where to begin? He decides to start with your breasts. Holding them in his hands, massaging them. He loves the pretty noises you’re making as he kneads them. He leans over to take a nipple in his mouth, flicking the tiny pebbled nub that he normally has to stretch his mouth around. It goes straight to his dick and he can’t help but grind his cock against your core. This is too much already. He sits back up between your legs to try and regain his composure. He doesn’t want the first time he has intercourse to be over before it begins. To bide some time, he slowly runs his hands down your stomach and massages the tops of your thighs while his eyes lock onto your pussy. Home.

His favorite thing in the world is to eat you out, and he’s excited to taste you. Firstly, though, he is dying to explore you with his fingers. He drags his thumbs through your folds. “Wet for me as usual, Noona.” He states, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks. He chuckles to himself knowing how flustered he’s making you.

“Hannie…always soaked for you.” You say with a breathlessness to your voice.

He rubs circles on your clit with his thumb whilst using his other hand to spread you wide.

“I need your fingers inside me, Hannie.” you wiggle your hips to give him the hint.

“Like this?” He asks innocently as he slips two fingers into you. You moan in relief, making him smirk again.You’re so tight just around his fingers that he can’t imagine how you are going to fit his cock. He partially withdraws his fingers then pushes them back into your warm, wet, cunt. He repeats this a few times, your moans and ‘yes’s urging him to go a little harder, a little deeper. He remembers watching you finger fuck yourself and that there’s a spot inside you that when you stimulate it makes you come. He needs to try it.

He angles his fingers a little differently and fucks you with his hand. The response is immediate. Your pussy begins to make those lewd, but arousing sounds, that he has heard when you’ve made yourself cum on your dildo. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs start to tremble. He knows the signs of you having an orgasm. He’s made you come so many times. But not like this. He leans over you to slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing the moans from your orgasm while his fingers work you through it until you’ve settled back to earth. Stunning. Erotic. Perfect. That’s what you are to him right now.

Now he can eat you out. Lick up all that arousal leaking from your delectable pussy. He nestles between your legs, his agonizingly hard cock squashed between his stomach and the mattress. He knows it’s leaking all over your quilt.

Firmly holding your thighs apart, he licks a long stripe from your vagina to clit. You taste perfect. He is careful not to go too hard or too rough. When he’s tiny he needs to use all his energy and strength to get you off, but right now even the most delicate of licks or suckles has you whimpering for him.

He spits on your clit and then sucks it off. Then moves lower to slip his tongue inside you. He has to hold you still as another orgasm starts to build for you. He loves making you feel this way.

He needs to make you come again, so he slips a finger into your pussy while he laps at your clit. He feels you come on his face, shaking, quivering, covering him in your juices. Yep. Still his favorite thing to do.

He removes himself from between your legs to hover over you to take you in an urgent kiss, smearing your arousal all over your lips. His dick throbs.

“Hannie,” you pull away from the kiss. “I really need you inside me. I need it so much it hurts.” You look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Me too, Noona.” He gulps. He’s so fucking scared and hopes you don’t notice.

“Are you nervous?” You reach up and stroke his cheek.

Of course you noticed it. You always know how he feels. He nods. “Yeah. I am actually. I am a virgin you know?” He chuckles awkwardly, like you didn’t know he’d never actually fucked before.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it slip in. Dicks usually find a way into a pussy.” You whisper in his ear.

He trusts you and grinds the length of his cock against your slipper pussy. It’s already beyond incredible feeling your soft skin against his obscenely hard cock. You both moan equally in pleasure and the frustration of needing more, so he shifts his hips to allow the tip of his cock to prod at you.

“Yes!” You cry out against his ear. “Fuck…Hannie…need you. It’s so close…”

All it takes is a slight adjustment of the angle of his hips and he feels the tip slip inside you.

“Please…hurry.” You sob. “I love you so much, Hannie.”

“I love you too, Noona.” he says with a shaky breath, and then he’s inside you. All the way to the hilt. You both moan in relief.

“You’re so tight.” he declares, his eyes rolling back into his head. He’s not going to last even a thrust. It’s already too good. But he begins to move anyway, eventually finding a slow, deep rhythm.

He was wrong. This is his most favorite thing to do. Be buried in your pussy, with your arms and legs wrapped around him as you moan his name over and over. Definitely his favorite.

“Faster…please… harder…oh Hannie…fuck.” You claw at his back trying to pull him even deeper. He obliges, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. He kneels between your legs again so he can see all of you. The sight is erotic. Seeing all of you at once, with your legs folded and pushed up high and wide. Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. And the expression on your face as you look down at where you’re connected almost makes him fill you right then and there.

“I’m coming, Hannie… I’m…don’t stop! Come with me. Come inside me!” You’re already trembling beneath him, and there’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop himself coming inside you even if he wanted to. He’s about to burst. Not just his cock, but his heart too. He loves you too much. He takes his thumb back to your clit and focuses on bringing you over the edge. He feels your walls squeeze tight around him like a vice, and it sends him over as well. With a few last shaky thrusts, he releases himself inside of you with a deep moan.

“Noona… Fuck…” he pants and collapses on top of you. “That was the best feeling in the whole world. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done when they could be doing that!”

—-----------

The day passes far too quickly as you fill the rest of the day with lovemaking, food, drinks, and even more lovemaking. You both don't want to miss a single moment of each other. Night comes too quickly, and despite trying your best to stay awake, sleep eventually takes you both as you lay in his arms.

-----------

The sun streams through the window waking you from your sleep. You feel Han's arm laying heavy across your waist. It wasn't a dream. Your eyes snap open to find him fast asleep, mouth open, and still very much human size.

You watch him until he finally stirs and opens his eyes. "Am I still big? Are we still naked?" He asks sleepily.

You grin in response. "Yes. You're still big. And we’re still naked. " You lean down and kiss his cheek.

"So we can have more sex today?" he adds, rubbing his eyes.

"Anything you want, my love." You say and let your hand wander down to rest on his erect cock. Flicking the sheet off of him, you begin to kiss your way down his body, savoring every inch of his skin, ensuring you remember this moment forever. You pause when you reach his cock, admiring the way it looks. Fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. You waste no time taking him in your hand and bringing your tongue to the underside of his shaft.

He releases a sharp breath. “Fuck, Noona. Please…are you gonna suck me off? Please suck my cock, Noona.” he begs, lifting his head and looking down at you. You give him a sly look and swirl your tongue around the tip, and he throws his head back down onto the pillow, surrendering to you and your plans.

You take your time teasing him, alternating between kitten licks to the tip, to long languid strokes of your tongue along the shaft. His breathless pants turn to whimpers, then finally a deep, relieving groan as you sink your mouth over him. You take as much of him into your throat as you possibly can, and even though your eyes start to water, you take him even deeper.

“Baby, Noona…This is…your mouth… How can you even breathe right now?” He can barely get the words out. “So good… ngh…s’good.” he squeezes his eyes closed trying his hardest not to thrust into you. His hands thread through your hair and rest on the back of your head. You hope he pushes you down further so you take absolutely everything, and when he does, you feel your cunt tighten and your arousal leaking between your legs.

Your lips are pressed to his pelvis and he isn’t letting you go. You are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t care. You want more. You feel him getting close when his cock hardens even more and he starts thrusting into your throat. Yes. This is what you need.

Han gets noisier as he approaches his climax, then you feel it. The familiar taste of his hot cum hits the back of your throat. He cries out then stills, releasing his hands from your head and relaxing into the bed.

As usual, you swallow every last drop. There is so much more compared to normal, the fluid coating the back of your mouth, then you make your way up to kiss his lips.

Han grins at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck, Noona! That was so fucking goog.”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured doing that for you, Hannie.” You smile and curl up to his side.

“Noona?” he says, stroking your arm.

“Mmm. Yes my love?” you hum.

“Do you think…after we fuck again, we can go out? There’s something I want to do.”

You turn your head to gaze at him. “Of course. Anything you want, my love.” you say again, but this time with a curious tone.

-----------

"Are you sure I don’t look weird?" Han isn't convinced that the sweatpants and tee you have given him are unisex.

"You're fine, I promise. Just trust me?" You reply, locking your front door. You take his hand in yours and begin to up your front path. As you reach the sidewalk, he begins to have second thoughts. Sure he's been out of the house with you before. In your handbag, hidden away. Safe. Unseen. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have such lofty ideas? But he's not going to have another opportunity to do this. So he has to be brave.

“”What would you like to do, Hannie?”

“There’s something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. Buy you flowers.” He gestures to the flower shop across from your home.

Your eyes light up and a smile washes over your features. “I’d absolutely love that!” You squeeze his hand and look up at him. “I love you Hannie.” You say and kiss him on the lips.

“Noona, y-you can’t do that!” He stutters.

“Do what, sweetie?” You tease, and kiss him again. This time a little longer.

He pushes you away gently. “You’re getting me hard.” He whispers sternly and looks around to make sure no one can notice.

“Okay, Han. No public display of affection. Got it.” You pinch his chubby cheek.

The flower shop isn't very big, but it manages to accommodate so many flowers and bouquets that fill every corner and surface. Han takes in the floral scents, and the vibrancy of the colors, and smiles when his eyes land on what he's looking for.

"Can I help you with anything?" the shop owner asks cheerfully.

"Yes, can I please have the bouquet of purple tulips?" he says proudly.

The owner, who's name tag says 'Jules', takes the bouquet back to the counter to ring up the price. "That will be $60."

That's right. He has no money. He closes his eyes for a moment, berating himself. Of course he can't pay. He has no bank account. No identification. He's not a citizen of... anywhere really. He's an alien.

"That's okay, I've got it. He forgot his wallet today." You step in from out of nowhere and take care of paying for the flowers.

Ashamed by his inadequacy, Han steps away from the counter, and busies himself by looking at the corner with some potted houseplants. He quite likes the houseplants you own, often sitting underneath the leaves pretending to be somewhere outdoors. He chuckles to himself at how silly that sounds when movement behind one of the pot plants catches his eye.

Intrigued, he crouches down and ever so slowly nudges one of the plants to the side. His eyes widen and he almost stumbles backward when he sees a little man, the size of a Ken doll, looking up at him.

The same man that he’s seen kissing and holding Jules the shop owner multiple times.

Han blinks, not believing what he is seeing, but when he opens his eyes the little man is gone. Where did he go? Did he imagine it? He starts shifting plant pots around, desperately trying to find him.

"Hannie. I'm done now." you call to him from the shop entrance.

----------

"Hannie, what's wrong?" You ask as you both step outside onto the sidewalk. "Is it about paying for these?" You hold up the tulips.

"No, Noona. It's not that." He turns to look back at the shop.

"Han? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" You press your hand to his forehead. Sweaty and warm. Is he getting sick?

"I'm fine. Just... the forty eight hours are coming to an end tonight." He frowns.

You drop your head. You have been trying your best not to think about it. Today was so perfect, spending time with Han like a proper couple. It felt so heartwarming watching him with his big, curious eyes as he interacted with his surroundings.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "What made you choose these?" you ask him curiously.

"Well," He starts, as you begin to walk back towards your home. "From what I read on the internet they are a symbol of perfect love." He smiles sheepishly. "It also said that they symbolize rebirth, as well as being known to help us let go of the past and embrace the future with renewed optimism and hope." he adds, proud to have remembered the details he'd read.

"I think that sounds perfect." You smile warmly and kiss him on the cheek.

---------------

Dinner is a quiet affair. The quietest it’s ever been. Usually at dinner time you share your day with each other, listening intently, offering advice or support, or whatever each of you needed that night. Tonight you’re both thinking about the same thing. That your time together like this is coming to an end. Neither of you want to talk about the elephant in the room, so you both stay silent.

After a while you see Han set his knife and fork on his plate and stand up, walking around to your side of the table. You look up at him and he offers his hand out to you. Wordlessy, you take it and let him lead you to your bedroom.

He’s not gentle as he pushes you down onto the mattress and practically rips your clothes off before climbing on top of you and taking you in a rough, heated kiss. He shoves his tongue past your lips and you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him into an even deeper, even more feral kiss. He pulls away only to remove his own garments, then he forces your legs apart so he can line his cock up to your entrance.

Without any preparation, or warning, he pushes the entire length of his cock into you in one go. You cry out at the intrusion, but part your legs further. You need him inside you, to consume you.

He’s careless with his thrusts, and his hands grope and squeeze, bruising your flesh. There’s a look of anger and resentment in his eyes. You know it’s not because of you, but at this whole situation. It feels so unfair to have a glimpse of how life could be, and know that it’s never going to be like this again. You love Hannie no matter what. But this feels so good too. Why? Why let you experience this, only to have torn away so quickly?

“Are you gonna remember me like this forever, Noona? How full I make you? How deep inside you I am? How hard I can fuck you?” He growls. “Tell me. Tell me you’ll never forget it. Cos I’m never going to forget how your pussy feels around me. Squeezing me tight. Tell me I’m your favorite. Tell me I feel better than anyone before me.”

Han’s words are aggressive, and so is the way he’s fucking you. But his voice is full of heartbreak and angst. You want him to give you everything. His sadness, his anger, you want him to take it out on you.

He thrusts his hips even harder against your body, and his cock slams into your cervix, causing you to cry out his name.

“Hannie!” You choke. He doesn’t slow down or go easy on you. You can barely breathe.

“Say it… please…Tell me your mine.” he sobs, but he doesn’t slow down.

“I’m yours, Hannie…forever.” you whimper.

He leans down over you, caging you underneath him. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” He growls, his hot breath against your ear. “I wanna feel your pussy choke me one last time.”

It’s too much and you come hard around him, sobbing against his shoulder.

“That’s it…Yes…Fuck! I’m coming too!” He grunts as he thrusts his hips a few more times and empties himself inside you.

You stay like this for a while. Breathless and sweating. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks down on you. “Did I hurt you?” He asks with a concerned expression.

You shake your head. “It was passionate. I needed you to fuck me like that.” You sigh. He closes his eyes softly in relief, then withdraws his softened cock from you.

Neither of you move to clean up, or even get a drink, or even say another word. You simply lay in the comfort of each other’s arms as though the world was about to end.

---------

You fall asleep first, but Han can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. So he watches you sleep instead. He cups your cheek. He needs to burn the image of this into his brain, for tomorrow his hand will barely be able to wrap around your pinky finger. These past forty eight hours were a dream come true, but he’s not sure how he’ll get over it either.

-------------

You wake to find your bed empty. "Han?" You call out and search the bed, lifting the blankets. Sometimes he ends up tangled in them, but he isn't there.

You hop out of bed, slip on your robe and head out into the kitchen. You find him sitting on the windowsill above the sink. Small as ever. You feel a sadness in your chest and bite your lip as you approach him. "Hannie?" You say softly, leaning your arms on the counter next to the sink so your face is close to him.

"I'm okay Noona." he sighs, but doesn't turn to face you.

"You want me to fix you some breakfast before I go to work?" You ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.

The usual conversation that you have when you get ready for work is replaced with a heavy, awkward silence.

"You know, Hannie, you are perfect to me no matter what. Your personality, your heart - it’s bigger than that of any man in the world.” You say as you turn to leave the kitchen and head out the front door for work.

--------------

Han hasn’t left the windowsill in days. He hasn’t washed, he's barely eaten. The spark you love so much in him has dimmed, and you’re frightened that it won't come back. It's not like you can get him therapy. No one knows about him. No one can know about him.

Every day you leave for work not knowing what you'll find when you return home. What if he’s left? What if he's-" No you won't let yourself even go there.

Those forty eight hours of him being big was not worth it, and if you could take it back and go back to how things were before, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You just want your Hannie back.

--------------

Han knows you love him. But he can't help but feel depressed. He feels worse now than he has ever felt in his entire, albeit short, life. It's like him becoming big was some sick, cruel joke. Like it was to taunt him. To show him how good it could really be, how good it could really feel, to be a human, just to snatch it away from him.

It isn't just depression that's consuming him. It's an obsession with the flower shop and that little man he had seen that day.

For ten days now he’s stared at the shop hoping to catch a glimpse of...something... anything that might give him answers or closure. They know something. He can feel it.

Then finally it happens. Han hurries to a kneeling position, face pressed against the glass to catch a better look.

The man is back. As a human sized man. Han guesses he's seen this man maybe four times over as many months. He stands in the doorway waving to a customer before going back into the shop. It definitely looks like the little guy he saw standing by the pot plant.

You probably imagined it. You were probably over excited from the sex with Noona. Can sex make you hallucinate? Han isn't sure of anything anymore. Except that the miniature man was either imaginary, or, he has the answers Han's looking for.

-------------------

You leave work early and pick up a cheesecake. Han hasn’t eaten in days and you hope his favorite dessert might perk him up a little bit, even if it’s just a sugar rush.

You open your front door kicking your shoes off, and make your way upstairs to your main living area. The house is eerily quiet, even with a depressed Han it's too quiet. Something is off. Something is wrong.

“Hannie?” You call out. No answer. You place the cheesecake box on the counter. He’s not on his windowsill. Maybe he’s asleep somewhere? You check your bedroom next. He isn’t there either. You search every room, calling out his name.

Nothing.

He’s gone. He’s actually gone! Why? Why would he leave? Where would he go? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s - you gulp. You start to panic and begin to check everywhere again. Maybe he fell into a drawer? Maybe he’s stuck somewhere?

Again, nothing.

He really was gone.

—-----------

Han has never ventured out of the house by himself before. Well this month has been full of firsts, he thinks. Why not climb down the stairs and sneak out of a slightly ajar window?

He jumps down from the window sill and tumbles into the garden, surprisingly unscathed. He is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.

Determination takes over any fear of being eaten by the neighbors cat, or being runover by a car, as he carefully treks across the road to the flower shop.

He hasn't even planned what he’s going to say. What if he's mistaken and the owner faints? What if she kills him? Or kidnaps him? Tortures him? No. He shakes his head. The lady was really nice the other day. People love to go to her shop. It'll be fine.

By the time Han reaches the threshold he is hot, sweaty and very thirsty. He looks up to looming doorway and swallows hard. Here goes nothing.

He slips inside, carefully seeking the cover of a nearby flower pot. The shop looks gigantic compared to last time he was there.

He notices something that he missed the last time. That the entire shop is set up suspiciously accessible for him. Like it was made for someone his size. Strings from buntings and signs dangle in such a way that Han would be able to reach just about any shelf he wished. Some shelves look to have mini rope ladders, and there seems to be plenty of places to hide and watch customers, or your Noona.

He quickly climbs up one of the rope ladders where he can get a better view of the sales counter. Jules is there finishing serving a customer. But where is the man?

Han doesn’t have to wait for long. The man emerges from a back storeroom with a gift bag for the customer.

“Oh Minho! You’re back in town!” The customer exclaims in a high pitch voice. “How was your work trip?” She gives this Minho a kiss on the cheek.

“Adventurous as usual.” He winks at her.

“Well it’s good to see you.” She takes her flowers and gift bag, smiling as she leaves the shop.

“Take care Mrs Maple!” Minho waves after her then turns to Jules. “Finally, I’ve got you alone, kitten.” He smirks and closes the gap between them. “Maybe we could close up for lunch? Head back into the storeroom?” He kisses her neck.

“You’re always so horny, Minho.” She teases. “Don’t think I don’t know you masturbate behind the flower pot while I work.”

Wait! What? Han’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he stumbles knocking an ornamental garden gnome off the shelf.

Jules and Minho’s eyes land on the smashed gnome. Then they lift their gaze, eyes landing straight on Han.

Fuck! He freezes to the spot.

The pair look confused and make their way over to where Han is standing pretending to be gnome himself, and crouch down so they are eye level with him.

“It’s the customer from the other day.” Jules remarks. “He didn’t have any money.” She adds.

Han crosses his arm and pouts.

“He’s the one I told you about. The one that saw me on the shelf.” Minho adds.

“Excuse me?” Han interrupts. “I was hoping you could help me. You see, I live across the street with my Noona. She was the woman I was with when I came in the other day. And…anyway… I sit in the window sill and watch the flower shop. Not in a creepy way.” He is sure to add. “And I’ve seen him…Minho, or whatever your name is,” he points to the man “a few times… Then when I came in, he… he was small.”

“And you were big.” Minhos’s eyes glisten and he rubs his chin deviously. “And now you’re small!”

“Exactly! And I need to know… are you one of those miniature companions like me? And if so, why do you keep getting big? And… and is it the same for all of us? Is it different depending on the batch? Do some of us get big and others don’t?” Han’s out of breath by the time he’s finished.

“What’s your name?” Jules asks kindly.

“Han.” He replies and plops down, crossing his legs.

“Han?” She repeats thoughtfully.

“Do you recognise the name, babe?” Minho enquires.

Jules nods. “Yes. I believe he was also part of the range I purchased you from. The Skz range. I don’t think he was ready yet. How long have you been with your owner?”

“Just on a year.” He replies.

Jules and Minho exchange looks, then turn back to Han.

“Well, Han, buddy,” he says. “I think we might be able to answer your questions.”

—-----------

Eventually, after tearing your house apart in the hopes to find Han and failing, you flop yourself on your couch feeling empty and numb. You don’t even notice that your doorbell is ringing, but then a loud knock on the door makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yeah okay, I’m coming!” You call out as you head downstairs. With a sigh, you open the front door to find the woman who owns the flower shop across the street, and a man who you’ve seen a few times around the place, standing there. The woman holds a basket in her hands, and the man holds an amused look on his face.

Great. You’re not in the mood for interaction.

The woman’s eyes widen when she sees your tear streaked face.

“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Jules. From the flower shop across the street.” She smiles awkwardly. “And this is my, um, partner, Minho.” She gestures to the man next to her.

You continue to stand there, saying nothing.

Jules coughs, clearing her throat. “We’ve brought your Hannie home.” She declares.

“Noona!” Han’s head pops out of the basket.

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Why do you have my Han?” You choke. Your eyes dart from Jules to Minho, confused and scared. Han is supposed to be a secret. You can’t have outsiders knowing about him.

“I went to them, Noona. They have something to tell you! Can’t you let us inside already?” He whines.

A whining Han is a good sign. You nod and usher them inside.

————-

You’re back on your couch, this time with Jules and Minho on the couch across from you, and your little Hannie on the cushion next to you. You’re relieved he’s back, but also so mad at his reckless behavior. He could’ve gotten himself killed. He and Minho are enjoying a piece of cheesecake, like this is some normal afternoon gathering of friends.

“So you have something to tell me?” You say looking to Jules.

“We do. You see, Han came to us because he saw my miniature companion in the flower shop the day you both came in.” She starts.

Your eyes widen. “You know about them? You’ve got one?”

Jules nods. “Yes. Minho here is my companion.”

“Hi.” He waves.

“He’s your companion?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Yes, he’s got his monthly grown up pants on at the moment, but most of the time he’s small like Han.” She nods her head towards Han.

You shake your head in disbelief. “One minute Han is doll sized, then suddenly out of nowhere he’s big.”

“She really didn’t read the manual, hey Han?” Minho chuckles.

“Then I find out there’s another tiny man running around across the street?” You continue, ignoring Minho’s remark.

“Hey, I’m far from tiny!” Minho turns to you with a deadly glare.

“Calm down sweetie.” Jules pats his thigh. “He’s not really cold and cynical.” She reassures you.

“He’s cocky isn’t he?” You say lightheartedly to Jules but your eyes are firmly on Minho. “You know you were able to read their traits on the website and select accordingly?” You say jokingly.

“That’s why she chose me. For my cock-iness.” Minho leans back into the couch.

“He was the only one who was cat friendly. I have three cats, you see.” Jules playfully punches Minho in the arm.

“Hah! You love my cock-y personality.”

“I do.” Jules admits and leans against him.

The pair are fascinating, but you need to know more. “What did you mean by monthly grown up pants?” You ask.

“Once a month I grow into the size of a human for two days.” Minho shares. “It’s a fault in the Skz manufacturing process.”

“You didn’t receive the recall email from the company?” Jules turns back to you surprised.

You shake your head.

“There was a form in the back of...the manual...that you could send in so you’d receive any important information. Like recalls and such.”

“Noona only read up to the part where it says I can ejaculate.” Han pipes up, his mouth full of food.

“Hannie! Don’t, you’re embarrassing me. Sorry, he hasn’t been socialized.” You say bashfully.

“I think these two will become best friends.” Jules laughs looking at the two men. “Han did say this whole human size situation came as a surprise to you both.”

“I feel so stupid. I didn’t read the whole manual. I’m such an irresponsible companion owner.”

“There was a recall on the Skz range because they were only supposed to grow big the once, not once every month. Purchasers were given the option to return the companion if they chose.”

“And she chose to keep me.” Minho adds.

“Would you have sent me back, Noona? If you’d known about the recall?” Han looks up at you with his boba eyes.

“Of course not. I love you. I just wish I’d known all this so we could have been prepared. Looked forward to it, even.”

“It’s okay, Noona. I think it has worked out for the best this way.” He looks at each of you. “I’ve finally got friends!” He says gleefully.

Jules and Minho leave shortly after, to have some alone time before his “grown up pants become too big”.

Han is exhausted from his adventure, and just wants to snuggle up on your chest and watch anime. Neither of you say much. There's no point in being angry at him for venturing out alone, and you're just happy to have him back in one piece.

Neither of you are really watching the anime either. Instead you're both smiling inwardly, imagining what life is going to look like from now on.

—————-

A little update on our y/n and Hannie:

Over the next year, Han and Minho have become inseparable, spending almost as much time with each other as they do with you and Jules.

You’ve introduced Han to your family. He was so nervous at first, but once he realized they approved of him, he was okay.

He learned to play guitar, and even commissioned a guitar maker to make a scaled down working model of an acoustic guitar so he can play whenever he feels like it.

------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I loved writing it, even though it took me so long to have the energy to put the ideas into words. Thank you so much for reading. Your support encourages me to keep writing.

If you enjoy the more plot driven, lovey dovey fics, I have a few others on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams and I think I will probably cross post this fic as a oneshot over there to keep all my longer Hannie fics together.

Sorsha x.

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@kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @katsukis1wife @jeonginsleftcheek @ihrtlino @ivydoesit23 @gnab-nahc @skzstan12345 @youcanstayyeah @binnieonabike @hanniemylovelyquokka @moasworld @binniesbabe @courtnort455 @yongbokkiesworld @felixleftchickennugget @bangchans-angel @heerinnie @meilix

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife

#skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #sorshas fics

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