#blankets of sorrow
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caguaydreams · 5 months ago
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rotteneldritchhorror · 6 months ago
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Objectum headcanons are fuuunnnnnn
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luukka · 3 months ago
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Tae Young, after watching the last episode of his fav show : Can you speak lower. I'm depressed.
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sunflowersorrows · 9 months ago
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screaming. crying. throwing up. pissing a little
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butcharium · 10 months ago
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1. I am now parted from my gf
2. I came home to the window of my room wide open, to minus twenty degrees or so outside (I swear I closed it before leaving????)
3. As a consequence of this my water bottle is completely frozen through, as I left it in my bed still with water in it (bad habit I know maybe now I'll learn)
4. My uterus is currently acting up as well :(
I like the cold and am not bothered by the situation per se, I just miss my favourite hot water bottle (my gf) who would make things extra cozy, or at least that my regular one was available for use:/
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sassmill · 2 years ago
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Sometimes I think about Indigo Girls lyrics and have to just weep for a minute
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madeofbees · 1 year ago
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after a long run of managing my time well, i have vanished from social media because, simultaneously, i am:
planning a novel
planning an etsy/patreon
designing patterns
stitching patterns
researching mythical animals
writing five different hannigram stories
planning to rewrite a ten year old full-length novel
planning a new heville story
actively reading eight separate books, not including books for research
having four separate really important doctors appointments in the next few weeks
relistening to all of crime junkie (again)
probably should have a social media presence but
turning my bedroom into a blanket fort (again)
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more supplies are on the way
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wickedzeevyln · 11 months ago
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Love Before Steroids
Love was so patient back in the day, it was deep-seated, and it needed time like rain for it to grow, there was an element of excitement, the absence of social media meant less comparison and more focus on a relationship, if it were concrete there was time for it to cure and solidify. It was a time when romance required a little more effort, meaningful conversations were earned, there was an art…
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lxvvie · 4 months ago
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Your Missus coming home after another night out with the boys.
Kyle and Johnny had taken Simon out again. Good lot, those two. He needed it, desperately so in your opinion.
So when he came home in the wee hours of the morning, pissed beyond belief, so much so that Kyle and Johnny were practically holding him up, well...
You figured Simon didn't know where he was. He'd taken one good look at you, or rather through you if his blurry gaze was any indication, and slurred out, "...'m sorry, luv, but I'm a taken missus."
Yes. Yes, you are, Simon.
You helped the boys get him situated. Simon refused to leave the couch, though. You made Johnny and Kyle crash in the spare bedroom and busied yourself helping your husband out of his clothes. His back would be an outright bitch in the morning. You can't say you didn't warn him. "Yer a good one, mate," Simon slurred as he sluggishly helped you take his shoes off, "Jus' like muh missus."
"That so? What's your missus like?" If you can't beat him, join him.
"Bes' fuckin' thing," he started, burping before laying down on his back. Simon looked at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded, fighting sleep yet two seconds from passing out, "Made o'good stuff, lovin' a bastard like me..." Your heart swelled with love, pride, and a little sorrow. You'll make sure to triple the amount of kisses you give him. After his hangover, that is.
"Yer made o'good stuff, too, mate," he trailed off sleepily, "Gonna get a'good missus like mine..."
"And what if I already have him?" You asked as you draped a blanket over Simon. "...Lucky bloke, then. Kick his ass if he doesn't see it..."
Will do, Simon. Will do.
And when your husband woke up the next day, his back an outright bitch, head throbbing, and cursing Kyle and Johnny to high heaven, you recounted every single word he said.
He hasn't lived it down since.
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rebelfell · 18 days ago
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special delivery
eddie munson x fem!reader
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A quiet night at home turns into something else entirely when Eddie Munson shows up to deliver your pizza.
Isn’t this how all mediocre pornos great love stories start?
18+ MDNI┃8.1k
cw: light alcohol/weed use, discussions of poor sex-periences, bed sharing, down bad eddie, fingering/oral (fem receiving)
I edged myself a little with this, it’s like a 7:1 ratio of fluff to smut with nothing but tensionnn in between. Just how I like it.
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You didn’t mind being alone. Not really.
Truth be told, you kind of preferred a nice quiet night to yourself every now and again. It gave you a chance to read without interruption; to watch a long stretch of episodes of your favorite show you had seen a hundred times before; to indulge in a lengthened version of your skincare routine.
But lately you’d been having a lot of quiet nights.
Winter had settled fully in Hawkins, the frigid weather and barrage of storms lately making it difficult to go out at night or do much of anything other than sit inside and count the walls. And with Robin gone for the whole weekend, the relentless silence of your apartment only made it worse.
You made an honest effort to remedy the situation—sending a handful of texts to anyone you thought might be available, only to come up empty. Nancy and Jonathan were out celebrating some anniversary. Steve had a date with whatever girl he had conned into thinking he was charming enough to go out with this week. And Chrissy was fully buried underneath her coursework, but she “could definitely do something next week!”
So that was that. You knew Argyle was working his usual shift, so you hadn’t bothered to text him. Instead, dialing the number for Surfer Boy as you resolved to drown your sorrows in a pizza loaded with all the toppings Robin always gagged at whenever you suggested them.
It was impossible for you not to beam when the man himself answered, the roughness in his voice indicating he was currently surrounded by a fresh cloud of his beloved Purple Palm Tree Delight.
He was now managing the franchise’s first and only midwest location they decided to open after the California chain started recording a deluge of calls from Indiana and assumed it must be some sort of untapped market. Come to find out, the people in Hawkins were just calling the number on the side of Argyle’s bright yellow van they’d seen riding around town.
“That’s all?” he chortled at your order. “One small pizza? Are you and Buckley planning some kinda Battle Royale fight to the death or something?”
“She’s gone for the weekend,” you explained.
“Oh, really? All by your lonesome then, are you?”
His typically gravelly tone was tinged with a hint of mischief, but you didn’t pay it much mind. This was Argyle, after all. You knew him well enough by now not to try and decode anything that went on inside that wonderfully weird head of his.
“Well, with you at work there’s no one to keep me company, is there?” you teased, putting on a flirty affectation you just knew would make him blush.
“Baby doll, I’ll close up shop right now!”
His deep and throaty laugh made you giggle along with him as he relayed your order to the kitchen staff and then came back on the line to assure you that it would be there “lemony split.”
With dinner ordered, you started to assemble some essentials for your wild night on the sofa— oversized blanket, extra snacks, a small arsenal of face masks and serums. You even splurged a bit and lit one of your nicer candles, the fresh scent of bergamot filling up your living room as you headed into the kitchen to clean up.
About half-way through you doing your dishes came the soft tread of footsteps on the stairwell outside, followed by a bouncy and rhythmic knock being rapped on your front door.
“One sec,” you called out, shaking the remnants of soapy water from your hands and drying them on the thighs of your sweatpants.
Your hand closed around the door knob and you yanked it open only to be bombarded by a head of dark, wild curls and a pair of deep brown eyes that instantly made your mind go blank.
“What are you doing here?”
The words just burst out of you, sounding far harsher than you intended, and Eddie Munson’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk as he looked you up and down.
“Nice to see you, too,” he chortled. “That how you greet everyone who brings you your dinner?”
Your gaze fell to the pizza box he held in his hands that you had missed entirely, too distracted by his eyes and his nose and his lips and those cute little dimples in his cheeks. Not to mention his stupid big hands with his stupid long fingers that were wrapped around your dinner…
“Sorry,” you said, squishing your eyes shut and shaking your head as though it would wipe away your lustful thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Or, um…I meant, I didn’t know you worked at Surfer Boy.”
“It’s a new gig,” Eddie said, his smile filled with as much wily charm as ever as he handed over the box. “Argyle convinced me to come on board. Decent hours and the money’s good.”
“Oh…sweet.” 
You nodded back at him and prayed you didn’t sound half as awkward as you felt. With one hand, you balanced the pizza box on your hip while the other reached for the cash you’d set out earlier on the little table by your door. But a frown covered your face as you glanced between the bills and the box you were holding that looked quite a bit bigger than it should have been.
“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. “Aw, shit—we didn’t fuck up the toppings, did we?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” you assured. “It’s just, I only ordered a small and this one’s a large.”
“Oh, yeah. Arg had them change it after he rang it in. He just wanted you to have some extra.”
You chuckled, “Really? I don’t know why, it’s just me tonight.”
“No Buckley?”
Eddie’s brows raised slightly, disappearing behind his twisty bangs as he looked past you inside your apartment. You swayed slightly, in an attempt to block his view of the little couch nest you’d built for yourself. His gaze returned to yours, eyes flickering with something like intrigue.
“You’re flying solo, then?” he asked.
“Pretty much. I mean, I called around a bit and everyone was busy. So…yeah.”
He tilted his head at you. “You didn’t call me.”
“Oh…”
Eddie’s lips quirked in a smile that actually made your breath catch. He didn’t sound offended, not like he was accusing you of anything. But his soft voice and the feigned (it was feigned, wasn’t it?) look of disappointment on his face made your chest radiate with warmth.
The truth was, you would have loved to call Eddie. You had actually hovered over his contact info in your phone more times than you cared to admit, only to keep chickening out at the last second.
“W-well, you’re working tonight,” you reasoned. “So, we couldn’t have hung out anyway.”
“Actually… Argyle cut me early,” Eddie said. “Turned out to be a slower night than he thought, so he said I could call it quits after this delivery.”
Oh. Oh. 
“Well, do you…” You swallowed hard, trying to bring some relief to your throat that had run dry. “I mean, did you wanna have dinner? Apparently, I’ve got plenty of food.”
Another weak chuckle trickled out of you as you held up the pizza box, telling yourself it must be the heat of the pie within making your palms sweat the way they were. Eddie’s dark eyes actually danced under the harsh fluorescent lights of your building’s breeze-through.
“That’d be great,” he said, flashing you a smile that made your knees wobble. “Wayne’s gone this weekend too. Trailer’s kind of lonely without him.”
“Okay! Uh, come on in.”
The sudden shrillness of your voice made you cringe inwardly as you stepped sideways for him to pass, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or at least he acted like he didn’t. He simply smiled as he came inside, pausing to toe off his boots and shuck off his leather jacket at the door.
He’d clearly dressed for the heat of Surfer Boy’s kitchen and not the bitter wind howling outside, clad only in a red and black flannel over a gray tank that seemed to cling to his lean frame as if by static electricity alone. His ratty black jeans taunted you with flashes of pale skin peeking through the holes in the knees and the smell of oregano filled your nose as he fluffed up his hair.
He looked a lot better than you did—particularly when you were in your lounge clothes, which weren’t exactly fetching.
Baggy and oversized, worn threadbare in more than a few places from multiple wears. Splattered with a myriad of tiny mystery stains no amount of washing could get out.
Nothing to be done about it now, you supposed.
Eddie had been to your place plenty of times for parties and movie nights, but that had always been with other people around.
Never just you. Never the two of you alone.
That realization and the nerves it induced made the back of your neck unbearably hot as you set the pizza on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins—all of the dignified and civilized things you’d have to use now that you had an audience.
And alcohol. Definitely, definitely needed alcohol if you were gonna even attempt to be normal.
“You want a beer?” you asked from the fridge.
Eddie nodded as he followed into the kitchen and leaned against the cabinetry. His totally calm and casual demeanor only made you more anxious, your chest getting tight and your hands shaking as you pried the caps off two beers. You clinked your bottle against his and took a long draught, heart racing as you stared at the ceiling.
Chill the fuck out, you scolded yourself. He’s just a guy. It’s just pizza. It’s no big deal, it’s no—
“You okay?” Eddie asked, making your runaway train of thought come to a screeching halt.
“Yeah, totally,” you lied through your teeth. “Um… I guess I was fully in hermit mode already. I really didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.”
Let alone you, you finished internally.
“Sorry about that,” Eddie said. “I didn’t mean to, like, crash your whole evening.”
“No, no—it’s not like that at all,” you stammered, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’m glad you’re here, really. It’s nice to have company.”
“Yeah? Okay, good.” He smiled into another sip of his beer. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
Your lips spread into a smile that mirrored his and a sort of quiet warmth passed between you. You found yourself staring into his eyes, holding his gaze until it flickered down your body.
He studied you in that soul-plundering way of his that made you feel all light and tingly all over.
“Here, you should have this back,” he said all of a sudden, “I feel kind of weird keeping it.”
You looked down just as he tugged the money you’d paid him with out of his pocket. He held it out to you, only to find your hand already pushing it back, fingers briefly closing over his fist.
“Eddie, no. No way,” you scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but you fixed him with a warning glare—a pretty withering one if you did say so yourself. One that made him nod reluctantly and sigh softly in defeat.
“Alright, at least let me contribute something,” he said, returning the cash to his pocket and instead producing a fat, pristinely rolled joint. Argyle’s handiwork, you were all but certain.
You grinned and clinked your bottle with his. 
“Done.”
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Beers and plates and joint in hand, you and Eddie headed over to the sofa only for you to stop short when you remembered your former plans for the evening. He watched curiously as you cleared the table, your stomach even more unruly now with half a beer sloshing around inside of it.
”What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the various packets and bottles. You laughed nervously.
“It’s just skin stuff. I was gonna do a face mask while I watched a movie…because that’s just the rock and roll kinda lifestyle I lead.”
Your jittery attempt at a joke only made Eddie’s own smile widen as he plucked one of the packets from your grasp and held it up to read the label.
“Can I do one?” he asked.
You choked back another laugh, brow arching at him in disbelief. “Do you want to?”
“Kind of, yeah,” he chortled. “They look kinda like potions or something. Seems like fun.”
You rolled your shoulder in a shrug. “Then knock yourself out,” you said. 
And he did.
Eddie plopped himself down at one end of the sofa and ripped into the package he’d selected. It was branded as a “unicorn” mask, which really just meant it was made out of shiny, holographic paper that shone with rainbows when the light hit it. He admired the swirling colors briefly and then set about laying the mask over his face, his head suddenly turning to catch you staring.
“Am I beautiful yet?” he asked, playfully fluttering his long lashes at you.
You already were.
The thought popped into your head so quickly you almost said it out loud and you had to bite back the comment, your pulse starting to race all over again. You pressed your lips together as you nodded and focused all your attention on placing a pair of gel patches under your own eyes.
Eddie watched you tap them into place, smiling. “You do this a lot?” he asked.
“Every couple weeks or so. More often in the winter because the cold really fucks with my skin. Obviously.” You gestured at your face and sighed.
“I never noticed,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Always looks nice to me.”
The compliment made your face burn in spite of the cooling aloe patches and you shook your head, the tingling in your cheeks only increasing the longer his eyes lingered on you. With shaky hands, you reached for the remote and started flipping through the channels while Eddie dug into the pizza. The both of you hummed excitedly in unison as you landed on an old horror flick just as the opening credits had started to roll, the decision of what to watch made easy.
As you set the remote down and reached for your own slices, realizing Eddie had plated up two and placed them down in front of you, you couldn’t stop your eyes from dating sideways to look at him once more. But the moment you did, a loud laugh burst out and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to try and stifle it—failing miserably.
He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, the pink muscle wiggling wildly as he tried to guide the end of his pizza into his mouth through the too-small opening of his mask.
“Hang on, hang on,” you said, taking some mercy on him. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “I’m doing great over here.”
It only made you laugh harder watching Eddie as he kept trying to eat, now clumsily flicking out his tongue like a drunken chameleon and grimacing when he tasted some of the product on his mask.
He stilled, though, as you scooted onto the center cushion and began to further tear the slits around his mouth, your fingers trembling as they brushed the corners of his plush lips.
Too late, you realized how close your face had gotten to his. Your eyes nearly crossed you were staring at him so hard, trapped in his hypnotic gaze as his enormous eyes locked on yours. The deep brown, almost black, of them only looked more otherworldly like this, surrounded by swirls of silver and rainbows like he was some kind of alien or android. Blinking dumbly, as if coming out of a trance, you pulled your hands away.
“Um…better?” you asked, eyes darting away from his face and almost instantly returning.
Eddie tested how far he could unhinge his jaw, stretching his mouth open as far as he could, unencumbered by the chin portion of his mask. He brought his slice up to take a massive bite.
“Perfect,” he said, grinning widely through a mouthful of cheese and sauce.
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You actually did manage to relax at least slightly the longer the night wore on, helped immensely by the joint Eddie lit and offered to you to take the first hit. It passed leisurely between you, each of your inhales making it easier to deal with the idea that your lips were basically touching his.
Another movie started up after the one you first put on finished, but you made no move towards the remote. Your body felt warm and relaxed from the high, limbs melding into the sofa cushions like you were becoming part of them.
And Eddie too seemed perfectly happy to spend his night exactly where he was. His unicorn mask sat discarded on top of his pizza crusts and he’d shifted down in his seat, knees spreading wide and filling your mind with…thoughts.
You kept expecting him to make some excuse to leave, freaked out that he’d caught you looking at him just a few too many times for comfort.
But he never did.
“I think this is the last of it,” Eddie said, staring at the tiny smoldering nub pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
“Take it, it’s yours,” you smiled, letting your head squish against the back of the couch. 
Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, now,” he grinned back at you. “Sharing is caring.”
He crooked his fingers, motioning for you to move in closer as he brought the joint up to his lips and steadily inhaled the last hit. He shifted onto the center cushion and you mirrored his movement, his knee bumping your calf lightly as you tucked your feet beneath you, toes wiggling nervously.
With his free hand, he gently cupped the side of your face and tilted your head to the side as his own lips parted and you leaned together. 
A stream of smoke poured out of him and you breathed it in, holding it in your chest for a few moments before you exhaled it back at him. He smiled as your breath fanned over his face, his dimples showing as his cheeks pushed up fully. The sight made your own smile spread, pulling your bottom lip back with your teeth as his thumb softly caressed your jaw.
His lips parted again, a whisper of your name falling off them, sounding like a foreign language. 
You inhaled deeply again, trying to steady your racing heart, your whole body suddenly tingling in a way that was distinctly different from the way it did from the high. It didn’t do any good, though, not when Eddie’s head lifted slightly and you swore his eyes started to close—
A loud BEEP made you jump away, the moment shattered by your phone getting a text.
You instantly felt the loss of Eddie’s hand where it had been holding you, cold now in spite of all the blood currently coursing beneath your skin. You turned and fumbled about for your phone as it beeped again, almost more insistently.
Eddie retreated to his end of the sofa and you gave your head another forcible shake, trying to rid yourself of the shivers running rampant over your body. Whatever you imagined was just about to happen was surely not going to—the weed had to have your mind playing tricks on you.
“Ugh.”
The sound popped out unconsciously, irritation flaring just at the sight of the name attached to the message and making you recoil before you even opened it to see what it said.
“Jeez,” Eddie smirked at your distasteful noise, giving you a sly look. “Who’s that?”
“Nobody,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just some guy I went out with a few times.”
Eddie sputtered slightly on the sip of beer he’d just taken, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks and his eyes rounding slightly as he wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans.
“Oh. Do I, um…do I need to, like, make myself scarce or something?”
A bitter laugh burst out at the implication and you started to shake your head a little too hard. “Ahh, no,” you told him flatly, “Not at all.”
Eddie’s shoulders relaxed, his smile returning, seeming almost a little pleased to hear that.
“How come?” he asked with a teasing smile, nodding at the rest of your skincare on the table. “You don’t wanna get him over here? Get him all nice and moisturized?”
“I’m good,” you assured, clicking off your phone and silencing it before laying it face down on the table. “Not exactly in the mood to beg someone to go down on me tonight, so—”
“Beg?” Eddie scoffed, taking another swig of his beer. “Who has to be begged to do that?”
Your gaze darted sideways, eyeing him curiously. 
“Uhh…all of them? In my experience, most guys aren’t all that into it. You know?”
“No, not really,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I fuckin’ love it.”
Your own drink stopped half-way to your lips and you chanced another glance at him. Your voice went quiet. Meeker than you would have liked. Lacking all the frankness with which he spoke.
“You…you do?”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, making a girl come on your tongue is like…”
He trailed off into silence, looking up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word, but you’d jumped back in before he could find it.
“You make them come? Just…just from that?”
“Ahh…” Eddie faltered now, staring at his lap and picking at the label on his beer with his thumb nail. “Not always. It depends on the girl. But, I dunno…maybe, like, ninety percent of the time?”
“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, eyes rounding with embarrassment when you realized you said it out loud. Beside you, Eddie shifted in his seat on the couch, turning himself towards you.
“Do you not come when they go down on you?”
You blinked back at him, almost too stunned to speak. “Well…no. They aren’t usually down there that long. I mostly just need it because the spit helps when I’m not wet.”
Holy shit. That weed must have been way stronger than you realized for these words to be spilling out of you like they were. Cheeks officially a raging inferno, you focused every speck of your attention on the movie flickering on the TV.
Eddie’s eyes never left your face, though. His expression only softened as he stared at you, his words coming out in a hushed whisper.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
Your face only burned hotter from the way he said it. It’s not exactly pity in his tone, or filling his eyes, it’s more like…disappointment.
Disappointment in who, you weren’t entirely sure. And you sure as shit weren’t going to let this go on long enough to find out.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how we got on this,” you said. “This is way too much information for you.”
“No, no, that’s not what I—”
Eddie’s hand started to reach out for you, but you were already on your feet. 
Scrambling to gather up your soiled plates and desperate to look anywhere besides at him, you hurried into the kitchen to start cleaning up. The weed in your system was starting to turn on you, making your mind run rampant with competing thoughts, the most persistent of them being an echo of Eddie’s voice, hearing the same four words over and over and over again.
I fuckin’ love it.
Just the memory of him saying them made your stomach swoop and your core flutter, your hands shaking as you reached to turn on the tap.
“Can I just ask you one more thing?”
Eddie’s voice behind you made your shoulders tense, but you forced them to remain still—trying to look relaxed. The plates in your hands clinked against the sink basin as you set them down and turned slowly, resting your butt on the edge of the counter as you nodded at him.
He moved forward tentatively, setting down the beer bottles he’d brought from the living room.
“Do you like going down on guys?”
Your mouth fell open at the question and you had to quickly snap it shut. “Um…yeah,” you said after clearing your throat. “I like it fine.”
Truth be told…you really did like it. And with the right partner, you kind of loved it.
There was a kind of satisfaction you got watching even the most confident and charismatic guys be reduced to a simpering pile of putty as soon as your mouth came anywhere near their cock.
It was an intoxicating sort of power you felt when you drew the most desperate and eager sounds out of them—like when a guy slid into your mouth for the first time and just groaned in relief, like he had never felt anything as good as you in his life.
“Okay, then,” Eddie grinned, his eyes flickering as he watched your face. “So the person you’re with should like it too, right? He shouldn’t do it just because he has to. He should do it because he wants to make you feel good. The same way you want him to feel good.”
He took slow, careful steps forward as he spoke, the distance between you getting smaller with each. You felt your chest start to heave, trying to keep the furious pounding of your heart under control as Eddie’s body drew nearer.
He came to a stop in front of you, brown eyes trained on the space between your nose and chin. He licked his lips, running the flat of his tongue over the bottom one like he was imagining it was your own. Saliva flooded your mouth and you swallowed it down, lips trembling as they parted.
You thought you might be sick with anticipation, waiting for the touch of his mouth on yours. Because he was gonna kiss you, right? 
God, did you want him to kiss you…
Your grasp curled under the lip of the counter, nails digging into the wood beneath the laminate. Eddie’s eyes broke from yours, flitting down to see your hands clenched, like you were trying to rip off a chunk of it. His brow furrowed slightly and he took a step back, the absolute deflation you felt as he stepped away making your whole body slump as the tension flooded out of it.
It was so overwhelming, you had to look away, eyes landing on the clock over the stove.
“Oh, shit!” you gasped, making Eddie’s head jump back up. “Is it really that late?”
Midnight had come and gone according to the glowing green numbers without you so much as noticing. Eddie swallowed hard, his mouth falling open like he wanted to say something else, but no words came out. Instead, he busied himself with getting the emptied bottles he’d set down and tossing them in the recycling bin.
“I, um…I should get out of your hair,” he sighed, ringed hand rubbing the back of his neck.
You weren’t totally sure what possessed you to say what you did next. Something about the sight of his frowning face, the corners of his lips turned down in confusion or even disappointment, it was hard to say which. All you could think was that you didn’t want him to leave.
“You don’t have to,” you said suddenly.
Eddie’s stopped short and his spine straightened, his head turning slowly towards you like he wasn’t convinced he really just heard those words come out of your mouth. You shot him a small smile. 
“You can stay over…if you want.”
He stared back at you, doe eyes blinking at you in surprise. “Really?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying not to sound like your vocal chords were in a vice. “The roads are shit and it’s late. I mean…it’s only if you want. You certainly don’t have to—”
“No, no, no, that-that would be great, actually,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. He took a steadying breath and smiled as his eyes met yours again. “I’d really like that.”
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With the sort of energy that would make a hummingbird jealous, you bustled around the apartment gathering a spare pillow and an extra blanket for Eddie while he brushed his teeth in the bathroom. You carried them over to the couch, hugging the linens tight to your chest. 
You thought about how they might smell like him in the morning. How he might wake up with his hair all big and messy from sleep, his eyes half-lidded with crust in the corners, his boxers slung low on his narrow hips, the small trail of hair that swirled just below his navel on display—
“Thanks,” Eddie said, making you jump when you realized he was behind you. 
Your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums as you turned around and held the linens out to him. His fingers met yours among the folds and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the contact.
“N-no problem,” you said, averting your gaze again as you headed down the short hallway.
You hovered at your bedroom door, glancing back over your shoulder at Eddie as he flicked off all of the lights except the one on the end table, peeling away his flannel to reveal his sinewy arms littered with tattoos. The sight made your cheeks pulse in time with your heartbeat. Among other things.
“Good night,” you said. 
Eddie’s head snapped up and he stared at you for a brief moment, his eyes running up and down your body, his bottom lip between his teeth like he was deep in thought about something.
“Good night,” he said finally. “Sleep tight.”
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In bed, sleep evaded you. 
You lay there, splayed wide in the center of your mattress, arms and legs stretched out across the rumpled sheets you’d gotten yourself twisted up in too many times to count as you’d turned over and over and over and over, searching for a comfortable position. Finding none.
Any attempt at settling down for the night was impossible when you couldn’t shake this…this… incessant, obstinate, unrelenting need calling out for satisfaction. It was like your body could sense that Eddie was in the next room and was refusing sleep in favor of filling your mind with thoughts of what could happen, of what he might be doing, if you just went out there and went for it.
What if you did? Just strode down the hall and climbed on top of him in the dark? Whipped off your sleep shirt to bare yourself and let his hands and lips roam freely all over you? You could just about feel the cold bite of his rings on your skin, you were thinking about it so much.
The conversation you’d had earlier kept running through your head, his words still echoing in your mind and making you throb everywhere. 
I fuckin’ love it, he’d said. Blatantly. Plainly. Like it should be obvious. But you’d never heard anyone express that kind of affinity for eating a girl out.
The majority of the guys you’d been with, those who had been willing to do it at all, only seemed to be doing so under duress or out of obligation. Or worse, they spent the exact bare minimum amount of time down there in order to get you going, only to stop short, and wasted no time redirecting the focus to their pleasure.
Then, of course, they had all the time in the world.
It was hard to say why, but there was something about Eddie wanting to do it—even being eager to do so, that only made him hotter.
You huffed loudly and pushed the heels of your hands against your eyes, forfeiting the staring contest you were locked in with your ceiling.
This was so stupid. You were getting yourself all worked up, and over what? Eddie was most likely balls deep in a REM cycle by now, and if you went out there and made some kind of ill-conceived “move” on him there was absolutely, positively, no chance in hell he would ever—
Knock knock knock
The gentle raps on your door made you bolt upright in bed. They were so quiet, you thought maybe you might have dreamed them, painfully awake as you were. But then they sounded again, this time accompanied by Eddie’s hushed voice tentatively calling out your name.
“Yeah?” 
Your eyes zeroed in on your door knob, waiting with bated breath for it to turn, but Eddie spoke again before he dared to even touch it.
“Hey, um…can I come in?” he asked.
You tugged your sheets upwards, covering your exposed thighs as you inhaled a deep bracing breath. “S-sure,” you said, still despising the nervous way your voice wavered.
The door finally cracked open and Eddie poked his head in. A little sliver of light from the hallway illuminated your room and you could see his curls were now tied up in a bun, sitting low on his neck with a few short tendrils framing his face. It made it so that you could actually see his ears and you realized for the first time they were kind of cute. 
How the fuck could ears be so cute?
“Sorry to bug you,” he whispered. “But do you have an extra blanket or something? It’s, um…it's kind of cold out there.”
“Oh, shit,” you sighed in realization. “It’s probably the windows. One of them doesn’t close right. Uh, yeah, just let me—”
You started to climb out of the bed, only to freeze as your foot hovered over the rug. The big shirt you had worn to sleep in was long, but not that long. The hem of it barely skimmed the bottom of your ass and if you stood up, you would basically be flashing Eddie your underwear.
Maybe it was okay? It would only be for a second. And it was mostly dark, maybe he wouldn’t even notice? Or maybe you didn’t need to get out of bed at all…
“You know, um…” You licked your lips, daring yourself to look back up at Eddie. “You could just sleep in here. If you want.”
Eddie’s eyes flickered at that, dark brown irises black in the low light, filling with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it apprehension? Surprise? Excitement?
“You sure?” he asked, his voice still hushed.
You swallowed hard as you drew your leg back underneath the warmth of the blanket, nodding at him to confirm, your teeth gnawing at the fleshy insides of your cheek as you did.
He entered the room fully, revealing how he’d stripped down to nothing but his tank top and a pair of blue checkered boxers. As he pushed the door closed behind him and crossed over to the opposite side of your bed, your heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. 
Your eyes briefly darted downwards only for you to avert them just as quickly—telling yourself it must be the dark playing tricks on you, making you think you saw his boxers were half-tented.
The mattress dipped as he settled into the bed with you and you felt a rush of heat that came off his body like a furnace as you both scooted down to lay flat. Your body was rigid as you resumed your staring contest with the ceiling, thundering heartbeat only picking up more speed when Eddie rolled over onto his side to look at you.
“Can you not sleep?” he asked, his voice coming out in a gentle rasp.
Your hair rustled against your pillow as you shook your head. “No. You?”
“Nope. I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”
You inhaled sharply, certain he had to be able to see the effect he had on you even in near pitch darkness. But was it really your imagination that you seemed to have a similar effect on him?
“Yeah?” you whispered.
Eddie nodded, his eyes dropping to your mouth, the tip of his tongue swiping across his bottom lip to wet it as he spoke.
“I was wondering if I could…if you’d like me to—”
“Yes.”
The word all but flew out of you, filled with heat and need. And no sooner had you uttered it was he rolling on top of you, his body pressing against yours, his rapidly firming length prodding your heat through your panties. His lips descended on to yours, making every part of you heave in response to his touch. He actually moaned into your kiss, both your lips and his vibrating with the sound. Every part of him moved with yours in perfect harmony, every curve and bulge of his body finding a home against your own.
It’s like you’re warm bread and he’s the butter, spreading smoothly across you and melting into your every crease and crevice.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so long,” he panted out in between feverish kisses dotted along your neck, his teeth nipping at your racing pulse.
“Really?”
“God, yes,” he groaned, his hands gliding over the length of your body. “I dreamed about touching you…how you’d sound…what you’d taste like…”
“Jesus Christ.”
You had never felt like this before, your very being thrumming with energy and ready to go off like a firecracker as soon as someone lit your match. You could have chalked it up to the weed, or to the beer, or to the fact that you hadn’t been touched like this in so long—and even when you had been touched, it was nothing like this.
But ultimately you knew…the real reason was him.
“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his pink lips curled up in a catlike smile as he rolled his hips forward, pressing them against you in a filthy grind that had your back arching off the bed.
“Shit,” you gasped, breathless, “S-so good, Eddie—fuck.”
The way he was moving against you had your mind emptying rapidly. It was all you could do not to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze him close to increase that sinful sweet pressure he was putting on your core. But Eddie was quick to give you more, pushing up on his hands so his hips married with yours and he could look down at the mess he was making of you.
“Eddie, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, voice all high and desperate. “I need it, please.”
His original offer had officially flown out of your head. All you could think about right now was him being fully seated inside of you, his cock stroking your walls, his thrusts reaching deep. He’d gotten you so wet just from kissing, him going down on you now was practically redundant.
“You want my cock already, huh?” he teased you lowly, leaning in close again, the tip of his nose touching yours. “Too bad.”
His gentle mocking tone and the way he purred so softly made every atom in your body tremble. You stared up at him with your hips squirming trying to chase the friction you so desperately needed as he started to shuffle further down the bed, making you whimper at the loss.
“What’s wrong?” he chuckled at your pitiful little sound. “You think I’m being mean?”
You nodded back at him and his giant eyes glinted in the dark, his handsome face full of mirth and mischief as his chest rumbled with a laugh. The sound of it rippled down your spine, making it go instantly rigid and then slackening like the crack of a whip. Oh, you were in trouble…
“Well, I am mean. And selfish too,” he gritted out, his fingers kneading at your waist, bunching the material of your t-shirt in his fists to pull it taught across your chest. “Because I’m gonna kiss this pussy all I want…all night long, if I feel like it.”
With his words dripping thick and sweet from his lips, he shifted even further down on the bed with a practiced swivel of his hips. He kissed his way down your body, pushing up the hem of your shirt to reveal the bare expanse of your stomach and hips, groaning again as he caught a glimpse of the underside of your breasts.
“I’ve…been waiting…way too long…to taste you…”
His voice slipped back into that lower register as he placed a line of delicate kisses to your navel in between his words. His head dropped lower, lower, lower until he met the apex of your spread thighs. A soft moan escaped your lips as he laved his tongue over your clothed slit, licking through the thin barrier until his spit had soaked through the cotton to mix with your arousal.
“Take them off,” you gasped, raising your hips to help him.
If he had decided to tear them, to rip them right from your body, you wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. But he curled his fingers around the elastic and dragged them down your legs, settling back on his calves to tug them off, the blunt edges of his fingernails raking lightly over your skin all the way to your ankles. It made gooseflesh bloom across every inch of you, all the way to your scalp as you pushed your head back into the pillow, so overwhelmed by the feeling.
He works infuriatingly slow. Teasing you, toying with you like it’s a big game. He kissed softly along your seam, nuzzling his face against your inner thighs, skimming his lips over your folds that are doused with your slick, not even bringing his tongue into play yet. It makes your clit just ache for him, the little bundle of nerves yearning for the attention he just won't give it.
Not yet.
Finally, finally, he placed one long kiss on your sensitive bead, popping off far too soon for your liking to murmur softly to you in the dark.
“Can’t believe you had to beg that loser to do this…I’d beg you just to let me do it…”
“Then do it, Eddie,” you groaned, bunching the sheets in your fists. “Please, please, just do it—”
You’re almost crying now you want him so badly, the anticipation making your chest tighten and your lungs constrict. All the amusement drains from Eddie’s face as he looks at you, doe eyes shining like they held every star in the galaxy as he studied your pained expression.
“Relax for me, baby,” Eddie soothed in a steady whisper, his palm rubbing across your stomach. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I promise.”
Keeping your gaze locked on his, you nodded back at him and then closed your eyes to take the deepest breath you could manage. He watched you silently, studying the way your chest rose as you inhaled, and the way you held the breath in for a five count before you released.
And just as your breath crested, just as you felt the relief of the oxygen flowing throug your body, he fixed his lips around your clit and sucked.
The noise that he dragged out of you didn’t even sound human. It was shock, it was calm, it was joy, it was confusion, it was elation, it was rage.
It was as though every emotion you’d ever felt in your whole life was thrown into a blender and that sound was the end result.
Your hips jumped, bucking into his face, but Eddie never faltered. He kept his hold on you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep them spread open so he could continue to devour you. He didn’t just go down on you, his mouth and tongue and chin and nose moved together in any and every possible direction until you yourself had forgotten which way was up.
It made you doubt your very existence. No way was this real. No way could anything feel this fucking good. And yet at the same time, it was too real. The tickle of his hair on your inner thigh, his hot breath fanning over your most private skin, the noises he made muffled by your pussy lips. Every visceral detail swirled together, rushing you headlong towards oblivion.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Eddie said hoarsely. “Come on my tongue for me, beautiful. I gotta have it.”
He pulled his lips from you, his fingers plunging easily inside your gushing center, crooking up to rub that spot you only ever dreamed of someone reaching. As you clenched around his digits and he could feel how close you were, his tongue returned to your folds in long and languid swipes that ended in fluttering flicks and swirls.
He does everything so carefully, so thoroughly, that the brink he brings you to feels more earned than anything you’ve ever felt. Stars burst behind your rolled back eyes, tears squeezing out at the corners and spilling down your cheeks.
Your mouth fell open as you moaned in earnest abandon, chanting out his name in praise in between heaving breaths to gulp down air.
The aftershock seems to last longer than the orgasm itself, your legs twitching under Eddie’s firm grasp long after the explosive feeling had receded. He slid up to lay next to you, cradling you gently in his arms, out of breath himself as he watched you return to earth, his nose and mouth and chin all glistening with your spend.
“You okay?” he asked, hopeful and earnest, his cocky bravado long since dissolved.
“So good,” you gasped. “It was incredible, Eddie. Holy shit…”
His chest shook with a low laugh at your dazed expression. Your eyelids drooped, exhaustion trying to overtake you, but you forced it back. Suddenly filled with the urge to make him feel as good as you did, you let your hand drift toward his boxers, making his whole body shudder as your hand grazed across a damp spot there.
Wait…was that? No, not a chance. No way did he come just from eating you out.
“Easy, killer,” Eddie chuckled, reaching down for your wandering hand and lacing his fingers with yours to gently tug it back up and kiss it. “What do you want in there, huh?”
“Eddie, please,” you pouted up at him as your eyes fought to stay open. “I want more, I want to make you come too.”
“We will,” he assured you, his fingertips gently trailing across your forehead, down your temple, along your jaw. “Just close your eyes for a minute. Then we’ll do anything you want.”
The sigh you let out was a little huffy, but you couldn’t deny how appealing it sounded to rest your eyes—just for a minute. They start to flutter shut and the last thing you felt was Eddie’s warm breath on your ear as he leaned close to whisper,
“Good night, sweetheart.”
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Sunlight came streaming through your blinds far too soon for your liking. Its warm rays splashed across your face as it rose in the sky and you withdrew reluctantly from your sleep.
A deep, blissful, fucked-out sleep like you hadn’t had in years.
Everything came into focus slowly as you woke.  The hum of the fan overhead pushing cool air down, the distant chirp of birds from the tree outside your window…the subtle weight of Eddie’s arm slung across your torso.
He was still asleep next to you, snoring softly with his face smashed into the lilacs printed on your pillowcase. You couldn’t be sure if he had fallen asleep holding you or if he reached for you at some point during the night and never let go.
Either option was equally enthralling.
His hair had come loose from his bun, curls now big and frizzy around his face like a lion’s mane. And even in sleep, there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. Contentedness, like he was in the middle of a really good dream. You even let yourself believe you saw the slight curve of a smile on his plush lips, one you were sure matched your own.
You reached out a hand and gently touched the fringe obscuring his large forehead, brushing them back to reveal the thickness of his eyebrows and the dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. Fuck him, if he wasn’t even prettier.
Moving carefully so as not to disturb his slumber, you rolled over onto your side and reached for your phone on the nightstand, looking for the time and instead finding a text from Argyle.
hope u enjoyed ur special delivery ;)
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Thank you for reading. love you, mean it! 🍕
This has been gathering dust in my drafts for a minute now.
Been feeling the lack of inspiration/motivation to write lately real hard, so it was nice to go back to something that I really enjoyed writing and had a lot of fun with.
2K notes · View notes
a-fiery-fox · 1 year ago
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This girl has not survived the great war (she didn't get taylor swift tickets)
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taeghi · 4 months ago
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sweet n sour
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sunghoon's in bad shape after a match... if only there was a way to make him feel better.
PAIRING : boxer!sunghoon x worried gf!reader
GENRE: smut, slight fluff & angst. oral, unprotected sex!!, praise, just some soft sex tbh oh and a breeding kink
WC : 4k
mdni
you lie on the couch, the glow of the tv casting shadows across the empty room. it’s so late, past 1am, and the apartment feels more yours than ever, even though its meant to be shared. your eyes are heavy, threatening to close, but you force them open. you want to greet him when he comes home. 
the silence is loud, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the building settling. you try to focus on the show playing, but your mind drifts, thinking of him and sleep. he always tells you not to wait up for him, to go to bed, but you can’t help it. anxiety, worry and pure love for him keep you here, wide awake on the couch, fighting sleep. 
you shift on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around you. the cushions feel cold, a stark contrast to the warmth you remember when he used to sit beside you. you glance at the clock again, the minutes ticking by slower than ever. 
you fight sleep, but your eyes grow heavier with each passing moment. the tv’s flicker becomes a blur, and your mind drifts, lulled by exhaustion. you don’t realize that you begin to succumb to sleep. 
an hour later a faint noise jolts you awake again. your heart races as you sit up, disoriented and tense. 
the living room is still dark besides the tv light. you strain your ears, and then you hear it– a rustling sound, followed by the faint hum of water running in the bathroom. your eyes dart to the front door, where his gym bag sits slumped against the wall. relief washes over you and you exhale slowly. 
he’s home. 
you rise from the couch, your body protesting the sudden movement. padding quietly across the room, you reach the bathroom door. the sound of the water is louder now, a steady stream of water hitting porcelain. you hesitate for a moment, your hand hovering above the door. 
knocking gently you call out, “babe, it’s me.” 
there’s a pause, then the water stops. his voice, cold and distant, cuts through the silence. 
“i told you not to wait up. go back to sleep.” 
his words sting but you know he’s not trying to hurt you. “i know, i was just worried and wanted to see you.” 
“‘m fine. go to sleep.” 
the finality in his tone makes your chest tighten. you stand there, fingers brushing the doorframe, fighting the urge to whimper. “can i get a hug before i go to sleep, then?” 
silence stretches between you. you think he’s ignoring you, and the ache in your heart deepens. but then, the door creaks open and you gasp as you look at him. 
there, sunghoon, your boyfriend, stands. his clothes are still on, but his face is covered in bruises and dried blood. his one eye is swollen, a cut is splitting his lip. you’ve seen him beat up before, but this is the worst you have ever seen him. your heart breaks, and you reach out instinctively, but he turns his face away, avoiding your touch. 
“please,” he mutters, voice strained. “just go to bed.”
you linger for a moment, wanting to say more, do more for the man that you love. 
“no,” you say firmly, guiding him to sit on the toilet. the bathroom feels heavy. “i’m going to take care of you, or your wounds will get infected.” 
sunghoon doesn’t argue. he sits, silent and resigned, his shoulders up high even though he is in physical and emotional pain. you can see the struggle in his eyes, the way he battles with himself. he should be the one protecting you, providing for you, but right now, he can’t even look at you. his swollen eye is an excuse, but deep down, you know it’s more than that. 
you grab the first aid kit from under the sink, your hands trembling slightly as you pull out antiseptic and gauze. the air between you is thick with tension, an unspoken sorrow that hangs over everything. you kneel in front of him, carefully dabbing at the dried blood on his face.
“can you not clean me up with that look on your face?” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper.
“what look?” you ask, your eyes meeting his briefly before returning to your task.
“like you’re about to cry,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his bruised lips.
you pause, swallowing hard. “i can’t help it. you look like you’ve been through hell.”
sunghoon shakes his head, wincing at the movement. “i just hate that you have to do this.”
“what, play nurse?” you tease lightly, trying to lift the mood.
“no,” he replies, his voice turning serious. “see me like this. feel like you have to take care of me.”
“sunghoon,” you say, your tone soft but firm, “we’re in love. you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.”
“yeah,” he mutters, looking away. “but i’m supposed to be the strong one.”
you stop, cupping his face gently, forcing him to look at you. “you are strong. but it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you sometimes. it doesn’t make you weak.”
he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “i just don’t want you to worry.”
“too late for that,” you whisper, brushing a kiss against his forehead. “i’m always going to worry about you. because i love you.”
he opens his eyes, finally meeting yours. there’s a vulnerability there that you rarely see, and it makes your heart ache. “i love you too,” he says quietly. “more than anything.”
you smile, your eyes misting up. “then let me take care of you. let me love you.”
he nods, and you can see the walls he’s built around himself start to crumble. “okay,” he whispers. “okay.”
you continue to clean his wounds, the silence between you no longer heavy but comforting. the bathroom feels less oppressive, the darkness not as daunting. you’re here, together, and that’s what matters. as you finish bandaging his knuckles, you press another kiss to his skin, out of habit.
“thank you,” he says, his voice barely audible.
you move to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead and cringe when you notice the dried blood in his hair. “you should get in the shower,” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady. 
he looks at you, eyes filled with a mix of pain and vulnerability. "can you get in with me? help me wash my hair?"
your heart aches for him, seeing him like this, so raw and exposed. "yes," you say softly, because he’s in pain and you’d do anything to ease it.
he stands slowly, every movement measured and cautious. you help him strip off his clothes, the sight of his bruised and battered body that you love, making you wince. the bathroom feels smaller. you turn on the water, letting it warm up, the steam rising and filling the room with a humid embrace.
you undress together. his muscles flexing as he strips. he bare body makes you wanna drool. it's so smooth and soft and you can't help but wonder how he is yours.
"you're so fucking beautiful," he says as he steps towards you. you wonder if he knows you were thinking the same about him. his eyes scanning your face and bare body. he runs his hand up your thigh, his touch making you shiver, "all mine."
you step into the shower with him, guiding him under the spray. he tilts his head back, water cascading over his face, washing away the blood and grime. you reach for the shampoo, lathering it in your hands before gently massaging it into his hair. your fingers work through the tangles, careful and deliberate.
he closes his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. "thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.
"always," you reply, your own voice soft. you rinse the soap from his hair, the water turning pink as it swirls down the drain. you repeat the process, ensuring every trace of blood is gone, every wound cleaned.
his hands rest on your bare hips, a grounding touch that steadies you both. "i don’t deserve you," he says, the words heavy with regret.
"you do," you counter, your tone firm. "we deserve each other."
he opens his eyes, looking at you with such intensity that it steals your breath. "i’m scared," he admits, his voice breaking. "scared of losing you."
because sunghoon knows that he should be home more. that he shouldn't spend so much time at the gym. that he shouldn't be allowing himself to enter match, after match, after match because you'll be home waiting up for him (even if he tells you don't).
"you won’t," you promise, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. “i’m scared of losing you. like you won’t come home one day.” 
sunghoon dryly laughs into your wet hair, “i’m not gonna die, y/n. i’ll always come home to you.” 
you smile up at him with his promise. you lean up on your toes to press your lips gently onto his cut ones. your hands glide over his firm chest and stomach, gently caressing his skin. he hums in appreciation, his hands equally as gentle as he glides his hands down your bare back. 
leaning more into his touch, your hands roam lower, teasing the crease where his thigh meets his groin. 
sunghoon notices your wandering hands and a lazy smirk crosses his face as he looks down at you in the shower, “what’re you up to?” 
you pout up at him, your chin resting on his chest, “wanna take care of you.” 
sunghoon brushes your wet hair out of your face, “then do it.”
the warm water runs down your bodies as you reach for his cock, already hard at the sight of your naked body and your touch. you take it in your hand, stroking it gently before running your tongue along the length of his shaft. 
sunghoon groans, his hands reaching up to grip the shower handle as you take the tip of his dick in your mouth, sucking gently. you look up at him through your lashes, enjoying the pleasure written over his face. his eyes are closed, his head thrown back as he loses himself in the pleasure you’re providing. 
“oh fuck, y/n,” he moans out, his voice mixing with the sound of the water hitting the tub, “i love your mouth so much.” his hips buck slightly into your mouth. 
you take more of him into your mouth, relaxing your throat to accommodate his girth. your hands cup his balls, massaging them gently as you continue to suck and lick his shaft. you can taste the precum leaking from the tip and you moan softly, vibrating his cock with the sound. sunghoon’s hands tangle in your hair, guiding you along his length as he thrusts gently into your mouth. 
“that’s it baby, take it nice and slow,” sunghoon urges you, his breath coming in low gasps as you begin to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you such. “you’re mouth feels os fucking good.”
the water streams down your bodies as you continue to blow him, the warmth creating a steamy, intimate atmosphere. you moan softly, the sound vibrating along his length, making sunghoon groan and tighten his grip on your hair. his hips thrust gently, meeting your mouth as you take him deeper, your lips gliding over sensitive flesh. 
“you’re doing so good, princess,” sunghoon praises, his voice hoarse with need. “you’re such a good girl for me, taking care of me so well.” he leans his back against the shower wall, one hand bracing himself as you pick up the pace, sliding your mouth up and down his hard cock. 
your one hand caresses his balls, rolling them gently between your fingers while your other hand strokes the abe of his cock, twisting gently as the root. sunghoon’s breath catches, and he curses, his hips start to stutter as you press and roll your fingers just right. 
“fuck, baby,” he curses his breathing becoming ragged, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” 
you hum in response, taking him as deep as you can, your nose bruised in his abdomen. your tongue swirls and flicks, tasting every inch of your boyfriend. 
sunghoon’s muscles tense and he throws his head back, a strangled cry escaping his throat a she floods your mouth with his hot sticky cum. you swallow greedily, moaning with satisfaction as his taste exploses on your tongue. you milk him with your mouth and hands, drawing out his orgasm until he’s too sensitive for further stimulation, gently pulling away with a soft, wet, satisfied smile. 
“fuck baby that was so good,” he breathes, hauling you to your feet for a passionate kiss, tasting himself on your lips. “i love you,” 
you smile against his lips, “i love you, too.” 
“let me take care of you, now.” 
sunghoon turns off the water and you both step out. steam swirls around you both, wrapping you in humidity. you reach for a towel, your hands gently drape it over sunghoon’s shoulders. 
he stands there, droplets of water tracing paths down his bruised skin. you move with care, blotting away the moisture, your touch feather-light. the towel soaks up the water, but the tension in the air remains heavy and thick.
you let your eyes wander over his smooth, pale skin. months and months of hard work that he put in to get so muscular. you feel your mouth salivate as each movement of his makes his muscles tense.
sunghoon watches you, his eyes following your movements. he doesn’t say anything, but the gratitude in his gaze speaks volumes. you dry his hair, your fingers threading through the damp strands, untangling the knots gently. he leans into your touch, his body relaxing under your care.
when you’re done, he takes the towel from your hands and wraps it around you, his touch equally gentle. his hands move slowly, methodically, as if memorizing every inch of your skin. you close your eyes, savoring the warmth of the towel and the intimacy of the moment. his fingers brush against your arms, your shoulders, leaving a trail of need in their wake.
when both of your bodies are dry, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a kiss that’s more about reassurance than passion. he kisses you back, his lips soft against yours, conveying all the words he can’t seem to find.
as you pull away, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. the night is far from over. 
sunghoon laid you gently on the bed, kissing your neck and shoulders as he moved downward. his hands caressed your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. you moaned softly, already feeling the pleasure building inside you. his mouth found your nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand squeezed and fondled your other breast.
"you like that, don't you, baby?" sunghoon murmured, looking up at you with a grin. “like how easily i can make you feel good?" his free hand trailed down your stomach, until his fingers found your wet pussy.
teasingly slow, he traced your slit, gathering your juices on his fingers. "so fucking wet for me already," he growled, before bringing his slippery fingers to your mouth. "taste yourself, baby." you obediently sucked your juices off his fingers, your eyes never leaving his.
then, without warning, sunghoon plunged two fingers into your aching cunt, making you gasp. he pumped them in and out, curving his fingers to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. with his thumb, he rubbed your clit in circles, applying just the right amount of pressure.
you’ve been dating for so long that he really could make you feel good so easily. his fingers picked up their pace as he continued to thrust them into you at the pace that he knew would get you to cum the fastest. usually he would tease you, make you beg for him to make you and let you cum. but tonight, he was feeling generous– he owed you for taking such good care of him. 
it didn’t take long for your stomach to start to tighten as your moans to increase with his name. your eyes fighting to stay open as sunghoon fucked his fingers deep inside of you. 
“i-i’m gonna cum, hoon.” you moan out softly to him, your hand wrapping around his forearm for support. 
"that's it, baby, cum for me. let me hear you."
tour back arched off the bed as your orgasm took over your body. tou moaned loudly, calling out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders. sunghoon kept working your pussy through the waves of pleasure, milking every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering body.
as your breathing slowed, sunghoon withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, sucking your juices off them as you watched, transfixed. "delicious," he smiled. "but now I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock."
you eagerly nodded your consent, unable to form words as you were still reeling from your powerful orgasm.
sunghoon trails his hands over your body, caressing your stomach, making you whimper out for more. "you'd look so amazing round and full," he practically whispers out. "wanna fill you up so bad."
sunghoon positioned himself between your legs, hard again from you drying his body so intensely, from you crying out his name and squirming underneath him. his rock-hard dick throbbing with anticipation. gently, he slid inside you, filling you up inch by inch.
you whimpered at the sensation of being stretched around his thick cock. sunghoon paused, giving you a moment to adjust, before beginning a slow, sensuous rhythm. he thrust into you deeply and gently, his hips meeting yours with a soft, pleasurable slap.
"fuck, yn, you feel amazing," sunghoon groaned, his eyes closed in sheer bliss. "your pussy was made for my cock. it fits so perfectly inside you." he quickened his pace slightly, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
you met his movements, pushing your hips up to greet each of his delicious thrusts. "sunghoon, oh god, it feels so good," you cried out. "keep fucking me like this. want you to breed my pussy and fill me up."
hearing your pleas, a dark, possessive smile spreads over his face. sunghoon increased his speed and force, pounding into you fervently. your bodies slapped together, creating a steamy rhythm of flesh on flesh. your juices flowed freely, coating his shaft and dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
"you're my little slut. can't wait to see you pregnant," he groans out.
you gasp at his words, your body thrumming at the idea of being full with his babies, "yes," you breathe, your hands latching onto his shoulders, "breed me like the slut i am. impregnante me, baby."
"fuck you have such a dirty mouth, y/n, love it so much,"
sunghoon continues to thrust in and out of you bare. you can feel every inch of his enter and exit again and again. your damp bodies mixed with sweat and shower-water combine and thrust together. "you're such a good girl, taking me bare, letting me mark you as mine."
sunghoon's possessiveness makes you cry out, a shock of pleasure moves down your body. you can feel your clit start to throb from how turned on and sensitive you were.
"you want everyone to see that you're mine when you're all round and full with my cum? with my baby?"
"oh god yes," you moan, rolling your hips, desperate for his cum. "i want everyone to know you own this pussy- fuck harder."
sunghoon obliges, his hips begin snapping into you at a relentless pace. his cock hits your sweet spots every single time. "that's it, take it. take my cock, baby."
"yes! fuck!" you scream, your body so close to edge. "oh god, i'm close. i'm gonna cum, hoon."
sunghoon leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue mimicking the thrusts of his cock. you tasted yourself on his lips, adding fuel to the fire burning between your loins. his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding his cock inside you.
"cum with me, baby," sunghoon whispered urgently. "i'm so close. want to feel your pussy milking my cock as you cum." his dirty words sent you over the edge once more. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, causing your walls to contract around his cock.
feeling your pussy squeeze him tightly, sunghoon couldn't hold back any longer. "fuck, y/n! shit!" he grunted, as he released his load deep inside you. strings of hot cum filled your pussy, mixing with your juices. sunghoon collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest heaving as he caught his breath.
with a satisfied smile, he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you lay spooned against his body. you snuggled into his arms, feeling his heart racing against your back. "that was so fucking good, baby," he panted.
you smile, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, “it’s always so good with you.” 
after sunghoon cleans you up, it doesn't take long for you both to be laying in bed, sleep taking over your tired bodies. it was almost well into the early morning at this point.
your shared bedroom is filled with darkness, except for the sliver light filtering in through the blinds. you turn to face him properly, your heart aching as your eyes trace the contours of his bruised face. the swelling, the cuts, the bruises—all reminders of the life he’s chosen, the life you’ve chosen to share with him.
his eyes are closed, his breathing steady but labored. you know that sleep will bring only temporary relief from the pain, both physical and emotional. you reach out, fingers trembling slightly, and gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. he stirs but doesn’t wake, his body instinctively leaning into your touch.
you know he will continue to get himself hurt. it’s who he is, who he has always been. he loves being a boxer. and you understand that, even if it breaks your heart a little every time he steps into the ring.
you swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing. this is something you’ve chosen to live with because you love him. the fear, the anxiety, the endless nights of worry—they are all worth it because they come with moments like this, where you can be there for him, hold him, love him.
you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful to avoid the worst of the bruises. his skin is warm under your lips, and you linger there for a moment, breathing him in, memorizing the feel of him.
as you begin to drift off to sleep, you know that when you wake up sunghoon will still be there, that he won’t just disappear. because your love for him, for who he is, bruises and all, is stronger than any fear. and that love, in all its beautiful, painful complexity, is enough.
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@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)
stay safe everyone :)
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neverendingford · 1 year ago
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rockingbytheseaside · 2 months ago
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omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.
pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-
AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!
no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭
(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted) 
✦ How they comfort you when you cry
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe
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Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.
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✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders. 
“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.” 
His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek. 
Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated. 
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✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now. 
“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?” 
He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”
To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away. 
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✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:
“Who did this to you?”
His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful. 
Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again. 
“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.” 
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✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced. 
“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”
An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.
His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.
“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”
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✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:
“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”
You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy. 
If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.
"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."
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✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.
“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”
He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.
Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.
“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.” 
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ridingthatd · 11 months ago
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✧༺ CRAZY CHOSO
chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, possessive choso, crazy choso, choso eating it out
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choso stare down at his phone, his heart is empty, he feels like it isn't even here anymore- you stole it from him. you stole it from him a week ago, the day you decided to break up after a heated argument, and what bothers choso the most is that- he knows, he knows it his fault, you have always been patient with him, you have always showed your love to him- showered him with it.
even when- choso heart tightened, even when he never did- tears swell his eyes, even when all you received was a cold hearted jerk who doesn't know how to love, choso choke on his breath, tears running down his eyes- it finally hit him like a truck, after he finally lost you, after you finally realized he isn't worth your love, reality hit him.
he can't breath, fuck he can't breath, choso grab a hold of his dark locks, tugging them hard, fuck how could he- how could he treat his baby like this, how could he never say a simple i love you, even when you said it hundreds, thousands, millions times to him, even as- he chokes on his sobs, even as you left this door, your final word was "I love you, choso" and he didn't even go after you he just stood there, staring at you dumbfounded, why couldn't he just return your i love yous, is he this fucking much of a loser to be embarrassed to show his love to you?
the house was so quite without you, the only sounds that filled it was his choked sobs, he feels like he'll throw up, choso hurriedly made his way toward the kitchen to grab a cup of water- but what catch his attention as he was opening the freezer, is the sticky notes- your sticky notes, that you never forgot to leave for choso everytime he left to work, his hands shakily grabs into one of them.
"hope you enjoy the lunch i made you love ya :p".
a tear runs down his face.
"i left you some sweets today, even if you don't like them eat them love yaaaaa >:(".
another tear roll down.
he clenchs them against his heart- the heart that is bleeding sorrow, he slides down the fridge, hitting the cold kitchen floor.
it's been a week since you left choso, for a break as you're calling it, you sigh even though it's only been a week you miss your grumpy man. even though he might be cold in front of other peoples eyes- to you he was just a comfort person- a comfort pillow, cuddling him every time you can, choso was like the comfort blanket that people keep with them from childhood- no matter what other people say, you still love your little comfort blanket- your choso.
you look outside the window, it was raining, you couldn't help but think about how you would be cuddling with choso right now in this rainy day- while you tell him to read you whatever book he has in his hands, you listen to his rough voice, while he gently stroke his hand down your spine, putting you to sleep.
you wipe your tears immediately once you hear a knock on your door, you frown making your way to see who is it, at such weather, you were stunned to see chosos wet figure at your door, his clothes were snugged into him from being wet, his hair was dripping a few dots of water down his face, and your heart clenchs as you stare at his blood shot eyes.
"choso-"
he didn't mutter any words, he just simply held you up by your hips grabbing you so hard that you're sure that it will leave red marks on your sensitive skin later on. placing your heavy thighs on his board shoulder like they weight nothing, his face making direct contact with your bare pussy- regretting masturbating and forgetting to put your panties on.
"what are you doing?"
you couldn't finish your sentence because he's already shoving his tongue up your pussy, sucking, licking the juice from the orgasm you had an hour ago, an orgasm you had thinking about him, he clearly wasn't here to talk- he was here to do a lot more than talking.
it's been a week since you had something this good on sucking on your clit- something as good as chosos tongue, suckling on your clit like it's a nipple- like he's trying to get milk out of it- but the only difference is that he isn't trying to get milk, but he's trying to rip an orgasm out of your cunt.
and of course he did, you grasp hard on his long black hair, gasping out to the ceiling, arching your pussy into his mouth, making sure he drinks all of your juice and he glady do. like a starved man who hasn't had water for day, and your pussy was a river of water for him.
you look at him, thinking he will let you go by now, but he didn't, he keeps his face shoved into your pussy, it drives you crazy the way his nose brush against your clit everytime he breaths.
"could put me down, please?"
he clearly had no intentions of putting you down anytime soon, because he selfishly licks, slurps at every drip of arousal that leave you. you weren't sure what to do, you always knew that choso was obsessive in his own way, but you only got to experience a bit of it, but now that you left him you're sure it triggered a part of him that you've never seen before. he keeps sniffing, trialling his nose on your clit, wetting his face with your wet cunt.
"darling" you moan out.
he simply lock his lips on clit again sucking on it, his eyes are closed as if he's a youngling sucking, his long eyelashs tickling your belly, ripping a giggle out of you, making him finally look at you, with his red-puffy lips wet from your juice.
"can you put me down now?"
he pulled you from his shoulders but kept you in his arms. as he led you into the bedroom, glancing at your underwear that you left on the floor. choso placed you on the bed and pressed you against it with his body. he was cornering you, engaging in some primal display of possessiveness that he never showed you before.
his hands were roaming around your body, he was clearly trying to in print you again, feel your warm skin against his hands again, he keeps his face inside of your neck rubbing his face on it, as he stroke his hand from your thighs to your ass, just to make his way to your breast, as soon as he feels the fabric of your bra- he doesn't like it one bit, so he simply rip it off, out of his way.
cold air hit your nipples making them harden, he trails his face from your neck slowly to your breast, brushing his lips softly against your nipples, breathing in but not taking it inside of his mouth. he just wanted to feel you, feel your skin against his again, because he clearly thought he won't get to feel that ever again.
your heart clenchs at the thought of what he might have felt, the feeling of being left all alone, choso never acted like this before- right now he's acting like a baby he never was able to act like, he was always putting a hard on act.
you quickly snatch his head closer to your body, holding him close, so close that you can listen to his pluse "it's okay baby, I won't ever leave you again."
you can feel it pick up, quick, clearly affected by your words, you smile knowing it always made him shy whenever you called him baby no matter how many times you say it, he still gets frustrated. he doesn't say anything, he just look up at you, before he opens his mouth that was brushing against your nipple and place it inside his mouth, his tongue was quick to circle the bud.
"we- we should really talk about..."
he makes sure to coat both of your nipples with his silvia, leaving your nipples all swollen and red, before he picks you by your hips again and placing you on his, clearly didn't have enough.
you were suffocating his face. again. choso was a 6 feet big guy, so that clearly didn't bother him.
he kept on slurping on your pussy, till it's silk with your orgasm and his silvia, making sure to print your taste against his tongue so it will last for weeks.
"okay," you panted, your sweaty forehead now resting on the cool sheets, while your defeated cunt hovered over his mouth.
"we need to talk now. you've spent half the day licking me."
but the only words choso mutter out were- "sleep now" he horsely says. as he snuggle his face into your boobs, you were about to complain till you felt wet drops slide down your cleavage, you shut your lips together, gently stroking his hair pushing him further into you.
but choso didn't have any intentions of sleeping because you feel his rough, huge hands make their way toward your wet pussy drenched with your orgasm and his saliva. he slowly warped his lips around your nipples, drawing circles with his tongue.
you felt him tug his pants down, as he frees his huge leaking cock out of it, he slowly shove his cock inside of your tight cunt and he couldn't help whimpering on your nipples, missing your warm, wet pussy.
"shh it's okay baby, I'm here- I'm here" you whine out, drunk on the feeling of being stuffed with his cock.
it only takes him a few rock of his hips before he's spilling his hot cum inside of you, you thought he was gonna pull out- he didn't he kept his cock inside of you all night, while your nipples brushed against his lips as he softly breath out, sleeping in your embrace.
you can feel him get hard again inside of you every once in awhile so he just jults awake, stare at your nipples with hazy eyes before he takes your fat hard nub into his mouth, suckling, biting on it while he start rocking his cock into your already cum filled pussy, till he fill it again, fall asleep and the process repeat till the next morning.
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yuvany · 2 months ago
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"MS.UGLY DUCKLING" ft SIM JAKE
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SYNOPSIS : growing up "ugly" was not for the weak. Being absolutely ignored both in and outside of school was not for the weak. No one is ever ugly forever though. Changing schools and meeting new people, but most importantly meeting him might have been the best choice you've ever made in a very, very long time.
CONTENT WARNINGS : angst (with a happy ending) + bullying + insecurities + strangers to friends + friends to lovers + written in second perspective + self deprication + fluff + long + little rushed + partially proofread
ACTORS : ENHYPEN JAKE x FEMALE READER
WORD COUNT : ~ 4k
CHECK BOX !!
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i. "WHY WON'T THEY EVER PLAY WITH ME," you asked your mother after returning home from a long and harsh first day of school. Your hair looked a mess, and dirt was scattered across your clothes, yet your voice sounded like childish innocence and pure wonder. Maybe it was too much for such a young child to realise that her newly made friends maybe weren't actually her friends?
(Read more under the cut)
"I'm sure they didn't mean to?" She replied, her voice sounding soft and vulnurable, feeling like she was responsible for the sorrows and grief that her child had been put through, since she was the one who had bought you into this world. Instead of confronting the problem, she told her child that the world wasn't as evil as it seemed, that thinking on the bright side, or the possibilities, were the correct way to live life.
Eight-year-old girl walked up the stairs with heavy weights glued beneath her feet after dinner was finished. You threw yourself onto your bed that was neatly made in the morning before you went to school happily, just to come home opposite of the way you left. The softness of the pillow and blanket laying on your bed was enough to comfort you as you buried your face deep into it and wrapping the blanket around you tightly. You wished for friends, and you wished to be happy, but most of all, you wanted to be like everybody else.
ii. ONE MORE DAY at school, the daily mistreatment never seeming to come to a halt. You walked through the corridors anxiously holding onto the straps of your backback tightly with your pair of eyes wandering all over the place in case of danger. This was certainly not nessecary for a child your age, but when nobody chooses to help, you've got to start taking care of yourself.
Maybe it was your nerves that made it feel as if everyone's eyes were on you, but their mouths would open to release a fit of laughter that they had held in until specifically you walked past them. You crossed your arms, feeling extra aware of yourself now, guessing that they were laughing and giggling at you, which you didn't appreciate, but you were also too insecure and scared to speak up against them.
You reached your locker, looking forward to being able to collect your throught, away from everyone else, the locker shielding you away from their piercing gazes and judgemental stares and whispers. As you look up from your shoes, you see piles of gum stuck onto your locker, the gum being pressed onto the metal aggressively by the people you wished you didn't see. It was them; the popular girls of the school, and few of many people who seemed to despise you. They saw you standing there, shooting you an all too familiar look before walking away with their hips swaying from side to side dramatically.
You approched your locker to finally see what they were doing up close, "UGLY!" it read. You felt embarrased imagining all the people who passed by and saw this. Did they laugh? Did they feel bad for you? What did they think? You wanted to run away and hide in a deep hole you'd dig up with all the stored up shame inside of you.
iii. "MOM, DO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?" You asked your mother once more, years after the first, but soon to the recent encounter. "I think you're very pretty." She says, but your gut tells you another story. "Really?" You ask, awaiting her response that takes a long while before she hums lowly. That just confirms it, she wasn't being honest. "Thanks," you say, with no emotion in your tone. She looks away and eats her dinner quietly.
You quickly finish yours, and wash it in the faucet, the soap bubbling up and covering your fingers as you scrub and rub the plate, utensils and glass that you used. After finishing that up, you return to your room, locking it behind you. You hid under the covers for a while until it got too suffocating and warm, leaving you itchy and irriatted before sliding out and standing in front of the mirror. You inspected every inch and detail of your face, feeling not so content with some parts. You sighed at your reflection that looked back at you with tired, red eyes. At just fourteen years old, you began caring about how you looked, and how others precieved you, so you took matters into your own hands. That night, you stayed up all night searching for 'how to be prettier' and scrolled endlessly through social media.
The next day, you had decided to get a new hair cut to maybe fix the way you looked, you knew excatly what you wanted, and how to cut it. Before anyone else woke up, even before the first birds chirped their morning tune, you made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a pair of scissors in your grasp. You carefully cut strand for strand, the same way you remebered how the video showed. "It doesn't look too bad." You think to yourself, and then you hear footsteps outside the door. Your eyes quickly scanned the hair that layed on the tiled floor and faucet, wondering what to do with it.
Too late. The door slowly swung open and in came your mom. She was silent upon seeing the scene, the horror only showing in her eyes. "What happened here?" She asked like a sharp whisper. "I just cut my hair..." You reply equally quiet. You see her shake her head in disappointment, so you turn your head down, looking at all the hair that had been flying everywhere while you had fun cutting your hair, and suddenly you weren't as proud of your hair cut like you were before. "Go get the broom, y/n." You obeyed your mother's order and hurried out of the bathroom feeling tears of embarrassment reaching your eyes.
iv. YOU STARTED WEARING MAKE UP to cover up, but to everyone else, you told them that you wore make up becase you thought it looked pretty. Still, they'd give weird glances toward each others, which you knew was their way of judging you.
Each morning, you woke up early to sit in front of your mirror examining your appearance like you always did. Hoping and praying to somehow change over night, you hated how your features looked together. You opened the drawer of your vanity and picked up sponges and brushes, leaving them aside for later use while you chose the different essintials. You had prepared the whole summer break to look pretty. Every day, you followed a new tutorial, improving as you continued. You did all this to look presentable at school.
You thinly spread the foundation across your face, dabbing the liquid evenly all over as you moved onto the next step. You sat there for a long time, perfecting each detail and mole, brushing your brows and coating your eyelashes with mascara, and lastly smacking your lips together after applying lipstick.
You stood in front of your larger mirror that you had ignored and hidden away since you never wanted to see yourself ever, but now you felt prepared. In your eyes you looked prettier. You wore your hair differently, you had earrings and necklaces, the school uniform from last year looking a lot better than you remembered. The confidence boost put a smile on your face as you made your way downstairs and made yourself breakfast.
In the kitchen, your mum was sipping her coffee calmly, but as she saw you walk in, her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't say anything. "Good morning!" You greeted happily, and she waved her hand slowly, still trying to process what was happening. "You look different." She comments, and you are content with that reply, and answer, "Thank you, mum!" You proceed to eat your breakfast and then made your way to school.
At shcool, you felt everyone's eyes hooked on your face. The corridors got quiet when you walked by, and you heard murmurs and whispers about you, "Is that really y/n?" "No way..." "What happened." You didn't know what context to put it in and just walked with hurry in your steps, wanting to get to your class and focus on your studies.
Lunch also happened to be no different compared to before your make over, the group of three girls made their way to your table, cackling amongst themselves, planning what to do today. You, who already finshed your lunch stood up to walk away, not wanting to have an encounter with them, until one of them, the blonde barbie, knocked into you with her lunch tray, spilling her food and drink all over you. "oops!" he chuckled cheerily, enjoying the laughs and fingers pointed at you from around her in the cafeteria. You angrily stood up and rushed over to the bathroom, feeling embarrassed once again.
v. "I WANT TO CHANGE SCHOOLS." You say to your mother after a long while of thinking, fearing that you might make the wrong decision, but what could possibly go worse than how it already is? Your mother is sneering at you from the side as she puts down the bags of groceries by the sink. She hums, and you wait for her reply, feeling your heart beat through your ribs, beating so hard that you start belive it'd jump out of your body any second. To be fair, you'd rather for that to happen than to be rejected of this preposition. "Are you sure?" She asks with uncertainty in her voice after silence, and you nod your head, "Of course." "Think about it for a little more, and then we can ask your father when he returns home." She says and walks away. How much longer could you ponder it when you're already certain.
You help her organise the groceries, washing them in the sink to sterilise it of bacteria before placing it in either the fridge or freezer and taking your sweet time, not knowing what else to do other than lay in your bed or be on your phone scrolling through social media.
So, that's exactly what you did for the past hour or so after your chores.
Of course it was boring, but you had nothing else to do. Homework was done, your room was clean and you could only wait for dinner with your father. You heard the sound of the stove from your room, and rushed down to help prepare with your mother. You plated the dinner table, helped your mum with the dishes and washed them afterwards, now you waited in your seat for your father to arrive home from work.
You hear the door slide open, the sound of keys jiggling from the entrance. You sit straight in your seat, resembling a meerkat on its legs as you inspect the person who enters the kitchen. Your father walks in with his coat still slung over his shoulders, his briefcase slamming onto the kitchen counter while he sighs. "Hello, dad!" You greet him cheerfully, and he simply nods his head in your direction. Your mum rose from her seat to help him with his jacket and hat, but he just shrugs her off, and you notice both of their irritated moods.
Dinner was quiet - the sound of utenstils hitting each other and then being left on the plates filled the house. "y/n wanted to ask something." Your mum blurts out, wanting something to happen, being too awkward in this stale atmosphere. You see him look at you from the corner of your eye and he clears his thoat. "Really? What is it?" He asks, and you manage to utter the same statement from before. It takes a moment before you get a reply again, but he says, "I'll think about it." You pleaded with both your parents to let you change schools until they finally caved in with an extended sigh.
vi. YOU WALKED INTO THE FULL CLASSROOM feeling everyone's eyes glued on you, the feeling being vagualy familiar yet different. Some leaned over to their friend, whispering something, but as you saw them and they made eye contact with you, you wanted to shove yourself inside a locker. "Everyone, this new student ..." You zoned out her speaking until she placed her palm on your shoulder and asked you to intruduse yourself to everyone. "Hello, I am y/n l/n, and I really hope we can all be friendly," You said, and then walked over to the empty seat that the teacher pointed at.
As you take a seat, you take extra notice of your bench mate. Oh, how beautiful she was, her hair looked neat, her skin looked perfect and her eyes... You finally took a seat and did what everyone else did - copying what the teacher wrote. After class, you observed your schedule, confused by where to go. This school was big, and you were a new student who just joined, there was no way you could ask anyone else for help except the teachers, but the one in you room had already left. The girl from beside you tapped you on the shoulder and you turned your head curiously.
"Do you need any help?" She asked, and you nodded. "Help would be appreciated, thanks."
You spent the day with her, laughing and talking like never before. It was comforting to have someone like her beside you. At the end of school, she walked you outside of school and there you saw a group of other people gathered, and they waved in your direction. You turned to see your newly made friend, Yoona, waving back. Her pace quickened as she rushed over to the group, pulling you along by the sleeve of your uniform when she noticed you standing still.
It was a fairly small gang, but they still stared at you as you arrived. They all greeted each other, hugging and chatting till Yoona introduced you to the rest. Her voice sounding so smooth.
As she spoke, you noticed this guy. His hair was long and swept in waves, his eyes soft and brown filled with warmth and kidness. You learnt that his name was Jake from your friend's introduction. "Y/n, wanna come to karaoke with us?" She asked, and you shook your head. "Sorry Yoona, but I gotta head home now" you say, not wanting to interrupt the harmony established amongst the people. She nodded understandingly and let you go, waving her farewell.
On your way home you realised you had made a new friend. A real one at that, but thoughts of insecurities snaked its way into your mind. What if she was just being kind? To say that this could possibly be one of many occurrence was high, and the possibility that you'd fit in was low.
vii. YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE PARK with them. You've come to the realisation that a new start was exactly what you needed. Your feet swung you back and forth on the swing, hearing the laughter of everyone around you and feeling the warmth in your heart expand. You had gotten close to everyone, but Jake seemed to have a special place in your heart for some reason.
"Anyone wanna go to the arcade?" Someone called out, and everyone said yes, including you who never went along with them. On the way there, you walked along side Jake, chatting with him and joking. "So what made you change schools so suddenly." He questioned, and you shook your head with an awkward chuckle, "Nothing, I just wanted to." Jake had this friendly smirk on his face as he nudged his shoulder against yours, "you can't be serious. You probably had a lot of friends there." You had your eyes focused on the road as you tried to comply a decent reply. "I mean-" as you were about to answer, everyone had already arrived at the arcade. You found this to be the perfect escape.
Everyone rushed inside, being bombarded with games and bright lights. Almost immediately, you spotted the claw machines. You eyed it like it was candy. There were many plushies, but you really really wanted the bunny one. Jake who was close by saw the way your eyes lit up and approached you with his hands in his pocket. "If you beat me in any game, I'll get you that plushie." He says, and you turn to look up at, his lips being extremely close to your face. "Are you sure you wanna bet?" You asked and he nodded his head, "Go ahead, choose a game." You pointed at an air hockey board and Jake ushered you over there with his palm resting on your shoulder.
You played a couple of games, and you were determined to win. Jake, not so much. His eyes roamed everywhere except for the hockey puck, his eyes landed on your concentrated face a handful of times, observing your reaction to each goal. You easily won and rushed over to his side, cheering. Your smiles were contagious, and Jake laughed, exposing his pearly teeth. "You wanted that white bunny, right?" He asked, and you nodded. "You could get whichever one, really." He made his way to the machine, you standing beside him. Jake kissed his coin before inerting it into the machine. It took him many tries before he sighed and collected his calm once more. "You don't really need to continue, Jake." You tell him, but she shakes his head and stretches his arms and back. "I'll get it this time. I might need more luck though." You see him point at his cheek with a smug smile. "That's silly." You reply sarcastically and he pleads with you giving you the puppy eyes before caving in. You stand on your toes and quickly peck him on the cheek shyly. Your heart was pounding and you could feel your cheeks turn rosy at the act.
He winks at you once before turning to the machine with one last try. His focus is evident in his fierceful gaze and you also hope for him to win this time, mostly becuase you start to feel bad for all the coins he's lost.
While being consumed by your own thoughts, Jake celebrated his win. He turned around to hand you the bunny, but saw you spacing out. He snapped his fingers in you face and you shook you back into reality. You finally processed the fact that he had won after staring at the plush in his arms. Jake gently hands it to you and you take it with a smile. "Woah! Thank you so much!" You thank him over all the other people's conversations around you two.
The rest of the evening was spent with silent glances that held adoration between the two of you. and eventually, it was time to go home. You all gathered outside the arcade to wave each other off before going their separate ways.
You notice that Jake was taking the same way as you and you stopped in your tracks to let him catch up to you. "Do you also take this way?" You asked him. "Kind of, I actually wanted to walk you home." He rubbed the back of his neck before you two began walking again. "You could've told me before, you almost looked like a creep." Jake chuckled at your remark and said, "I would've, but I guess I got shy." with his thick accent seeping through.
The sound of crickets and owls hooting filled in the silence during the short walk to your front door step. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake." You say as you search for your keys in your purse. He was silent for a while as you unlocked your door. "Y/n, I have something to ask you." You turned to him curiously and arched an eyebrow. He was obviously nervous as you saw him fidgeting with his own fingers and clearing his throat over and over again to muster up the courage to ask,
viii. "WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME, Y/N?" It had totally slipped your mind that prom was soon. You stood there wide eyed at the question. "You're not joking with me right." You wonder if he's pranking you, but he shakes his head. "Why would I joke with a pretty girl like you." His tone sounds genuine, but you still can't shake this feeling of uncertainty. "There's many other people you could've asked, but instead you chose me." The identical feeling of hopelessness returned after finally being chased away. "Becuase I only want you. Y/n, please." It takes a while for you to open your mouth an reply, but you feel the cold sweat coat your hairline and seeing Jake's soft expression was not helping you to calm down.
"I need to think about it, sorry."
You take notice of how Jake's expression turns dark when you shut the door and lock it behind you. You rush up the stairs and sprint into your room, ignoring your mother's calls. The plushy you had gotten from Jake was thrown onto your bed as you hurry to look out the window, observing him walk away from you. To your surprise, you see him look back at your house. Hurriedly, you pull out a diary that you had hidden under your mattress and write about everything, it isn't until after you're done taking notes that you feel bad for Jake. How must he feel?
You take a look at the plush he gifted you, and groan at the dilemma.
ix. THE NEXT DAY at school you searched for Jake everywhere, but you never saw him. Your mood visibly worsened as the day had come to an end without seeing him once. Yoona took notice of this and decided to question you. "Is everything okay?" She asked you and you nodded your head with a hum. "Yoona, have you seen Jake today?" She shakes her head and pulls out her phone. "He sent me a text this morning that he wouldn't come today since he felt under the weather. Why?" "Nothing, just wondering." You quickly blubber, grabbing your stuff quickly. "Hey, what's the rush? Wait for me alright." You hear Yoona chuckle as she packs her stuff. You apologise and wait for her.
You two part ways at the split road with a hug, and you gradually start to jog your way to his place. You stand there on his door step, bag slung over your shoulder with your fingers twisting the hem of your skirt. "Is it too late to turn around?", you think you to yourself. You shake away these thoughts, and raise your curled up fist to knock, but to your surprise, Jake opened the door, his eyes looked equally as shocked as yours. "Uhm, so I wanted to talk to you." You utter, and see Jake sigh. "Sure, I'm going on a walk if you wanna follow along." You nod and walk behind him.
"So, I've been thinking." His interest perks, and he glances your way. "I'll go to prom with you, but I don't understand why me? I'm not pretty. I'm not that ....good." You voice comes out weak, and Jake stops walking. "Don't say that. Not only are you incredibly beautiful, but you're also so, so kind and caring." He approaches you, his hand gliding up your cheek. "Are you not angry at me?" You ask, trying to avoid his eyes. "Angry? At you? That's ridiculous." He scoffs playfully, and you finally get the courage to look him in the eyes. "I might've been slightly upset since I thought you rejected me, but i guess I have a date for prom!" He smiles brightly and you look at him awestruck. "Of course," you reply and kiss him on the cheek once again with your arms swung around his neck, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. "You make me so happy." He is smiling widely as he pecks your face with butterfly kisses.
TAGLIST :: @swaivy
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