#he does remove his shirt and as he's doing so you can see what's wrong.
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The Boys are slowly trying to get back to normal on Great A'Tuin II after they found the creature. Vlad and Ji Ho are on their way back to their quarters to be fit for their next shift and Jack and Jeb will follow them soon. They are just doing some repairs for a few hours so their sleeping times don't overlap and they can return to a healthier schedule again. They thought about locking the creature up so he can't cause further damage, but since he's able to crack metal containers and seems quite peaceful after Jack repaired his friend, and he learned that the Boys are of no danger to him, they dumped this idea.
Ji Ho and Vlad just passed the 'meadow', when Skully played 'Push It' by Salt 'n' Pepa...
'Can't you hear the music pumping hard? Like I wish you would Now push it
Boy, you really got me going You got me so I don't know what I'm doing
Ah, push it Push-push-push-push it, push it'
Vlad gritted through is teeth: "I'm going to push Skully in the trash compactor one day..."
They are both so nervous to share a bed. This barely ever happened in all those years. (I only remember that night at Tartosa and one night in Tomarang after Ji Ho had been so drained from teleporting and he needed to be near Vlad. And after Vlad crashed Ji Ho and Caleb's wedding ^^' Oh, and after Ji Ho caught Vlad trying to bond with Morgan, omg!)
Vlad looked at the bed: "You can shower first." Does that - does that mean they are going to do it? Just like that?
Ji Ho hurried to the bathroom. Finally! They will sleep together in one bed and do all the things that lovers do!
The panels between the bathroom and their hobby room, where Vlad sat and tried to distract himself with writing, have openings - and Vlad could see Ji Ho in the reflection of his monitor... It was very hard for him to maintain his composure.
Ji Ho put on their Han and Leia shirt and looked at Vlad in anticipation. It will feel so good now that he has all his feelings back! Ji Ho remembered their incredible kiss in the ocean of Tartosa a few weeks ago - and blissfully shivered by the thought of how amazing it had felt. That kiss had shaken him to his very core. How would it feel to go all the way with Vlad? And even though they'd woohooed a few times before, this would be so different. But Ji Ho nervousness was still stronger than his desire. It's still so awkward between them.
Ji Ho sat on their bed - agitated - and waited for Vlad to take a shower and come to bed to him. Vlad looked very nervous too...
The Bond does not show them their exact thoughts, just how they feel. And so the Bond showed Vlad Ji Ho's inner turmoil. Eventually Vlad stood up and looked at him. Ji Ho caught his breath.
And then Vlad cursed under his breath and left... Ji Ho was stunned. What's that supposed to mean now? Does Vlad not want him? Was it too invasive to remove Vlad's bed without his consent?
Vlad went back to the engine room, to Jack. Jack: "What are you doing here?"
Vlad is too tired and exhausted to explain in a somewhat coherent way: "Ji Ho, he just looked at me. Into my soul. And I knew that I was wrong. I'm so sorry, Jack. I was just so upset you lied to me. But Ji Ho - I had to come to apologize. Thank you for what you did for him - for us." Jack: "Are you sleep walking? What are you even talking about?" Vlad: "About the shirts. Ji Ho made me realize that I was wrong." Jack was dazzled: "You are supposed to sleep to be ready for the next shift. Or at least hold him in your arms and do all the stuff you always wanted to - and Ji Ho said you were wrong and sends you back to apologize?"
Vlad: "Eh... he didn't actually say anything." Jack huffed a laugh: "You're wax in his hands, aren't you? Fine, apology accepted. Go back to him. Now. You're sleep deprived and takling nonsense. Or are you a bit afraid, hm?" Vlad: " What? No!"
On his way back, Vlad mulled over how much power Ji Ho has over him. Just one look and his anger is gone. He would go to hell and back for Ji Ho - all over again. Back at their quarters, Vlad held his breath at the beautiful sight. He would endure everything all over again if that would bring him here. To him.
Ji Ho is finally his. Vlad took a quick shower, put on his shirt and slid next to Ji Ho. Ji Ho wore his shirt all those years - for Vlad. He must have always believed in them. And even with all his feelings buried away, he must have loved Vlad. They will get there - at their own pace. And nothing's going to stop them now.
From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest
Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here
📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29
Outtakes
So excited - and nervous :3
#underwater love#Piglets in Space#jack callahan#vlad tepesz#kiyoshi ito#giga byte#vladimir tepesz#Lenny Andromedan#saiwa#jeb harris#skully#woo ji ho#Great A'Tuin II#simlit#goats#sims 4 story#sims story#the sims 4#simblr#sims 4#ts4 story#ts4
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I am two seconds away from bashing my head against the wall- alright shirt's gotta come off Evan, I'm not just gonna douse you in antiseptic
*poof, I have acquired gauze and betadine bottle, cotton swabs and the little foam brush thingy*
...Right- Sorry.
#Evan speaks 🗡 🎞#evan emh ask blog#evan rp blog#answered asks#ask response#( ooc > )#he does remove his shirt and as he's doing so you can see what's wrong.#there seems to be a deep stab wound in his side and torn/seemingly SHOT apart flesh on his chest#the injuries seem to be in FAMILIAR spots...#but they've somehow reopened.#cw blood mention#cw gore mention#cw body horror#< ig?#cw caps
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strip for me.
part three
pairings: hyungline x reader (sunghoon & heeseung)
synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.
wc: 6k
warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.
note: next part will be fivesome with the hyungline so it’ll take time. be patient. please reblog and reply to. it is highly encouraged. thank you so much for your support. part one (here) ; part two (here)
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
your grip over your phone tightens while a text message flashes through its screen. a one sentence text is all it takes for your whole system to feel thrilled.
‘i’ll see you at the locker's room after my morning practice.’ — psh.
that was all it says. sunghoon’s not the texter type. out of all of them, he’s the least you expect to appear on your messages and so to receive something from him makes your stomach churns.
it’s still very early and after you checked your phone, that’s the first thing you saw.
Park Sunghoon is the team captain of your school’s ice hockey team and every thursday morning, they have practice before going to class. today is that day.
you didn’t reply to him and honestly, you’re contemplating whether to go meet him or not. obviously, something like what happened yesterday may occur. And no matter how bad does it sound, a hint of excitement stirs at the depth of your mind.
despite it, worry and agitation overpowers you. sunghoon is a very mean guy. you’ve done it with the four of them, and he’s the roughest when he’s mad or if he’s trying to punish you.
jake mentioned yesterday that it was a punishment. jay may have didn’t mention it, but his odd behavior was enough for you to conclude that something’s going on.
you spent the whole night thinking of what did you do wrong, backtracking over the things happened the day prior today. even no matter how hard you strain your brain, nothing pops inside your head. nothing. none.
still in trance, a new message appears on sunghoon’s chat box.
‘don’t even think of ditching me or i’ll be seriously be pissed.’ — psh.
you can imagine his brows hardly furrowed, jaw clenched and eyes cold as ice burning through his phone screen as he tap those words to send you. that was enough to make you feel scared. sunghoon’s not very nice, what more if he’s pissed off?
so before you even get deeply caught into your thoughts, you pushed yourself up from the comfort of your bed and started preparing to go meet him.
on the other hand, the sound of skates sliding through the ice and nonstop smashing of hockey sticks echoes all around the auditorium. players chants and shouts at each other as they try their best to make a score. if you aren’t too familiar with the members, you’ll think they don't belong in the same group.
but they do. it was just a normal practice session, only park sunghoon, the captain and also the team’s ace, are a little bit more worked up at the moment. his eyes dark and his moves are more aggressive than usual.
his teammates that are currently on his team in this game cheered when he made another score. ice splatters as he abruptly tried to make a stop. he pants as he removes his head gear.
“come on,” one long slide and a newbie made it near him. he was panting so bad as he raises his arms. “its just practice man.” he says towards sunghoon.
the old members looks at him in horror, giving a hint not to say anything else as sunghoon faces him with a placid look on his face.
sunghoon kept silent before advancing towards the newbie. he stared right at his face for a while before grabbing him by his shirt, jaw clenching. the other varsities panics and starts to discard his hold, but he was too strong.
“if you can’t keep up with me then that’s not my problem.” he spat and gave this chilling gaze at the newbie. the obvious fear flickers through the younger’s eyes as his mouth hangs open, unable to utter a single word.
“sunghoon! that’s enough.” thankfully, their coach arrived just in time to stop the fight.
from the chairs outside the rink, one pair of eyes watches closely. his half-lidded eyes stares lazily at the scene unfolding, totally unbothered by it. his back rests at the chair and legs crossed, conveying so much dominance.
heeseung saw how sunghoon kept his grip on his teammates uniform, clearly being stubborn. he's not even surprised. typical sunghoon who never listens and always lets his temper control him.
sunghoon gave the poor boy one cold stare before pushing him off as he lets go of his jersey. he, then slides out of the rink.
“hoon.” heeseung calls that made the younger halt his steps.
he cranes his neck and look at him with blank eyes, waiting for what his hyung is about to say. heeseung trailed his gaze from the rink towards him.
“remember not to be carried away.” he reminds him.
“i know.” he shortly replied, still feeling so heated from the practice.
“and don’t hurt her.” he says in a very low tone.
sunghoon scoffs, “i won’t.” his eyes darkens as his lips stretched into a smirk, showing off his fangs. “at least not in that way.”
your head peeks slightly to look while the players are leaving their locker one by one. it’s been almost ten minutes since you arrived the school. as expected, there’s only a few around and the whole building is still vacant.
you’re still busy checking when the hairs on your neck raised, chills running down your spine. a presence can be felt from behind you. slowly, you craned your neck to look over your shoulder.
wide broad chest is what you saw first. you trailed your gaze upwards to see lee heeseung staring down on you with a deadpan look on his handsome face.
a light gasp escapes your lips and tries to step back once.
“u-uh,” you gulped and lowered your head to avoid looking at his eyes. “sunghoon asked me t-to meet him here.”
you have no idea why on earth are you explaining to him. it just feels right to let him know why you are currently here, early in the morning, when your class starts a bit hour later.
“i know.” he shortly replies.
of course he knew. is there something else that he doesn’t know? what you noticed from lee heeseung is that besides being a very reserved individual, he’s also very observant. if the other boys loves being the center of attention, this tall gorgeous boy prefers to be on the corner, watching.
you tried glancing if he’s still looking and after meeting his gaze for a split second, you folded and glanced away.
he sighs heavily, “you guys have at least 45 minutes until our first class starts. don’t be late.” he says under his breath and starts walking away to the direction of your building.
the further he is away from you, the more your breathing stables. something about him intimidates and makes you nervous as hell. even before you can look at him to check if he’s already far away, he talks again.
“y/n,” in a speed of light, you faced him with flushed cheeks.
“y-yeah?”
his blank eyes slightly softens, “he’s in a very bad mood. if he gets out of hand, calm him down.”
his words confused you right away. first, sunghoon’s out of mood most of the times. second, why is he saying these words like as if you know perfectly what to do?
“b-but how..?”
he kept a placid look before turning his back to start walking again, leaving with, “you know how.”
you’re left standing awkwardly. heeseung’s already gone and you haven’t moved an inch. his words echoes inside your head repeatedly. it still confusing you how there’s a hint of confidence lingering through his words.
a vibration from your phone is what snapped you back to reality.
‘come here.’ — psh.
that was your cue. without thinking twice, your feet moves like it has a mind of its own, walking and leading you towards the locker room of the ice hockey team. sunghoon’s lure.
it was quiet and slightly dark. when you made it to the far end, you saw him sat at one of the benches. his head didn’t even whip to look at your way when you arrive, like he was expecting you and nobody else.
his elbows bore on his knees as he was leaning, head hanging low.
“sunghoon?” you calls him using your soft voice.
sunghoon finally lifts his head and look at your direction. there you are. you look beautiful wearing the school uniform neatly, hair brushed and eyes staring at him with a hint of concern.
he didn’t show any reaction to his face that made you feel agitated. heeseung’s words flashes back on you, that he’s in a bad mood. it scares you even more, adding to the tension.
“why are you standing so far, doll?”
his husky voice slightly echoes inside the wide room. its just the two of you here and that thought was enough to make your heart race. his endearment for you stirs something in you. how he always love to call you doll, in a sexy and taunting way.
you trudges closer, but still keeping a safe distant.
his dark eyes burns as he run his stare over you in a very dangerous way. he looks so attractive wearing his just his sweats and a white plain t-shirt, hair still a bit damp from shower. even from a distance, you can smell his manly scent that always makes you dizzy in a good way.
“kneel in front of me.” he demands.
you can feel your knee wobbling as you make your way towards him. slowly, you kneeled down. sunghoon almost lose his mind by the sight of you like this. he almost lets out a low groan when you follow him without saying any words, complying to him. submitting.
he leans backwards, resting one hand to the bench support his weight, the other palming his hard dick. you can see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants and blood rushes to your cheeks.
“take my cock out.”
his request made you blink and look at him. this shouldn’t surprise you anymore. before you come here, you’re expecting that things can escalate like this. but the fear of one of his teammates walking on you, makes you hesitating.
“what if s-someone comes here?”
“i’ll kill them.” he says those words without hesitation that made your heart drop.
“sunghoon—”
“you know i don’t have much patience, right?” his tone stingy and the crease on his forehead tells you that he’s not very happy on you delaying him from getting his desired blow.
you decided to keep your mouth shut and slowly reaches to his pants to pull it a bit, freeing his hardened cock. it was so hard and the tip so red. the sight makes you blush even more. if someone is asked to describe sunghoon’s manhood, they will probably say that its as beautiful as he is.
“go on.” he spat.
you gulped and licked your lips once before leaning in to wrap your lips to his dick. sunghoon bit his lower lip at the feeling of your hot mouth around him. he misses this. he wanted to curse so loud and to just shove it into you, but he stopped himself from doing so.
“fuck, just like that.” he moans and tried to open his eyes so he can watch you bobbing your head, getting your pace.
he saw how your hair covers your pretty face from his view and so he raised one of his hand to gather them and hold them for you.
“i got you, baby.” he whispers that made your core twitch.
you continued bobbing your head and sucking his dick, tasting sunghoon in your mouth. it was a familiar one, something that got inside your mouth a lot of time. later on, you can feel him thrusting his hips, meeting you. he was always rough and loves abusing your throat. he doesn’t care if you gag, he would even love that.
“fuck, fuck, fuck...” he growls and roughly shove his dick inside your mouth.
“gonna use that fucking mouth.” he says, “so pretty. so so damn pretty.” his compliments rings, but you’re too occupied on sucking him good.
there’s something about the way sunghoon moans. his voice whenever you give him immense pleasure serves as music to your ears. it was so erotic and just how he utters dirty words adds up to everything.
when you feel him almost reaching his climax, you’re so ready to accept and take it all. just a couple more deep thrust, sunghoon shoots his hot cum in the depths of your throat. groaning and moaning out of pleasure.
he lets go of your hair and pants while watching you suck him dry, letting out a faint ‘pop’ as you let him go.
“let me see.” he whispers and you open your mouth to show him how you swallowed every bit of it.
“good doll.” his words sent direct tingling feeling to your core, making you rub your thighs.
“we’re not yet done.” he says and stood up from the bench. he grabbed your arm to make you stand and guided you to sit down.
“strip for me.” that familiar line again.
with trembling hands, you try to take off the buttons of your blouse. sunghoon, as a very impatient guy he is, he curses and yanked your uniform, causing some of its buttons to fly off.
“sunghoon, what the he—” your words got interrupted when he pushed your body flat to the bench, making you lay down.
“shut the fuck up.” he says rudely and hovers above you.
his hand searches for your underwear and you whimper when his finger grazes your clit. he smirks, feeling your wetness.
“so wet for me. you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” he taunts that you answered with a faint ‘no’.
you tried to look away and avoid his gaze out of embarrasment for actually getting aroused for such foul situation. he scoffed and roll his eyes before removing your panties aggressively.
“i’m going to fuck you until you’re unable to think straight anymore.” and he aligned his head on your hole.
your brows furrowed, eyes shutting tightly. he traces your slit using his head before finally sliding it all in one go, making you gasp.
“fuck, look at my cock disappearing inside you.” he said and even ask you to lift your head so to see.
he was definitely right. he is fully buried inside you, and the pleasure it too much. you feel so full with all of him. he started pulling it out, only to slide it all back in again.
“u-ugh,” you let out a moan that clicked something in him, making him rut his dick rough and fast.
“s-sunghoon,” you whimpered, lips shaking as he continues to abuse your hole. “p-please slow down.” you plead.
he didn’t listen. in fact, he acts like as if he cannot hear any of your words. he placed both of his hands on your side, face above you as he continue relentlessly fucking you. his silver necklace hangs out from his shirt and now started moving along with his movement, slightly slapping to your pretty face. his brows sexily furrowed, jaw clenching while he utters low curses.
“i’m going to fucking breed you. you want that, doll?” he asks in a taunting way that made you whimper even more.
he scoffed at how you look beneath him. trying so hard not to let out your moan, when he can clearly see how much you’re enjoying and feeling so good from how deliciously he fucks you deep.
“you already have four dicks to fuck you and you still can’t be contented? what a bad girl.” he clicked his tongue and you opened your eyes to met his. it darkens as he started to roughly fuck you.
“you just never learn.” he growls and you can see the hint of anger in his eyes.
it scared you and your hand held his arm in attempt to push him away. but he was too strong. he didn’t budge and yank your hand, dismissing any chances of stopping him.
“who’s my pretty doll?” his grin grew wider, eyes full of nothing but lust for you.
you kept your mouth shut while still looking him straight at his eyes, tears brimming your eyes. he’s dominating you from above and you look so helpless beneath him.
when he didn’t heard an answer from you, he halts his hip from rutting you that made you whine slightly. he gripped your arm tight that you’re so sure it will leave a mark later, eyes piercing.
“who’s my pretty doll, y/n?” he asks in a very low tone, like a warning.
“answer me.” he commands that sent shivers to your spine.
you whined, “m-me.”
a smirk spreads across his face and leans in to connect his red luscious lips to your swollen ones, giving you a messy kiss. a string of saliva stretches when he leans away.
“you belong to me. you belong to us.” his words with so much emphasis that you can really tell how serious he is.
“i will fucking kill whoever tries to take you.”
“sunghoon, wait...” you can see how he’s starting to move in faster pace, almost making you see stars. one of his hand moves and reaches for your neck, slightly choking you.
“hoon—”
“that fucker, who do he think he is?! he’s nobody!”
you gasp and tried to take heavier breaths, trying not to be too distracted by how much pleasure sunghoon’s dick is giving you.
heeseung’s words then flashes through your mind. he said you can calm him down. how? obviously, this is the right time to show that skill.
instead of feeling scared of him, you snaked your hand on his nape and pulled his face closer. his forehead touches yours as you glance straight to his eyes, trying hard not to roll them up due to the imminent orgasm you’re about to have.
sunghoon was caught off-guard at your action. his eyes widen while still rutting his hip deep and rough. you look so beautiful from this distance, your pretty eyes filled with tears, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. all because of him. all for him.
“i’m s-sorry.” you mumbled close to his face.
he was at daze, his movement getting slower but his thrust remains deep, reaching all the good spots of your insides. almost making you crazy. you trap your lower lip in between your teeth, getting totally distracted.
“i’m so s-sorry, hoon.” you repeat your words, this time a little bit more softer.
while your foreheads still attached, you placed a gentle kiss on his face then flash a smile.
“i’m here.” and you heaved a sigh, “i’m yours. stop being mad, please.”
and with that, sunghoon relaxes, his breathing becoming more calm and his eyes softening as they stare at you.
he leans away to drop a kiss at your forehead before connecting them again as he start fucking you roughly. he groans and kisses your lips from time to time, moaning your name along with your sweet whimpers.
“f-fuck, baby. i’m close.” he whispers.
“me t-too.”
sunghoon dicked you down even faster trying to chase that climax. he kisses you, tongue dancing with yours, salivas mixing up. both of you are unbothered, mind filled by nothing but your lust and want to release.
“shit.” he curses as he shoot his cum inside your dripping cunt, your legs starts to shake, cumming as well.
he continued sliding his cock in and out, chasing both of your highs while making out. he moves away and watched how his dick slides out of you. his stares wandered all over your body, eyes full of desires.
“i’m sorry.” he mumbles as he caress your arm that he hold too tight a while ago. it was so red, his hand left a print.
your mouth gapped in amusement. did you just heard thee park sunghoon say sorry? he’s not type to do that. and when did he ever talk in a soft tone?
“does it hurt?” he asks, using that foreign tone again.
you smiled a little, shaking your head to assure him. he stares right at your eyes for a while before dipping his head down for another kiss. your eyes shut as you accept his kisses with no complains.
the bell from the next building is what snaps you back to your senses. his kisses moves to your chin then down to your neck.
“h-hoon, its almost time for our class. we need to go back.” your fingers run through his soft hair.
you wait for him to hiss at you for actually touching it as you are well aware how sensitive he is when it comes to his hair. but none. no complain or side comments about it.
he gave you a few more pecks before finally letting you go.
“you broke my uniform.” your lips pursed while staring down.
he just finished cleaning you up and you’re making yourself look presentable when you remembered how he broke the buttons of your blouse after pulling it hardly.
sunghoon smirks and opens his locker. he retrieves a uniform then handed it to you.
“here, you can use mine.”
the boys and girl’s top uniform is pretty similar, the only difference is the girls are shorter. some even had theirs cropped to style it in their own preference.
you accepted it and removes your broken uniform. he trudges closer then gently took the blouse from your hand so you can wear his easily. his eyes watches you closely making you feel a bit shy.
he helped you wear his uniform. “thank you.” you said, blushing.
he smirks and dips his head for a quick kiss. you’re too surprised to even say anything. you’re just too shock how he's acting right now.
“let’s go. we’re already late. heeseung hyung will be pissed.” and he grabs your things to carry it himself.
you knocked twice at your classroom when you arrived. the two of you are late and you’re silently praying the teacher's not in a bad mood today.
she cracks the door open and your homeroom teacher scans you up and down. her strict eyes watches you, eyebrow raising.
“ms. y/n. you are late.” she says.
“i’m s-sorry, ma'am.”
she was left with no choice but to let you inside. everyone’s eyes are darted at you and its very uncomfortable. your hand unconsciously plays through the edge of your uniform— more like sunghoon's. they gave you a look of curiosity. why you’re late when you’re someone never late for a class and whose uniform is that? clearly, it wasn’t yours.
before you reach your chair, you have to walk pass jake’s. his piercing and playful eyes are darted at you, grin so wide because he knew exactly where you’ve been.
“lips so swollen, sweetheart.” he stated that made you blush even more. some students who seats near him, heard it and gave you this look.
“mr. park.” is what your teacher said the moment you sat down to your chair.
when you look over the door, park sunghoon walks inside at ease. not even bothered that he’s late. his bag hangs over his shoulder while one of his hand holds yours.
“practice.” he reasoned shortly before heading your way, not even sparing your teacher a glance.
he ignored the eyes watching him and focused his stares right at you. the three other boys shrugs their shoulder off and boredly face front. jake’s smirking, jay rolled his eyes and heeseung watches carefully
sunghoon placed your things on the side of your table and leaned down to look through your eyes.
“here, baby.” he says casually then messed your hair before walking to his chair.
lips of some girls from your class are gapped open at the scene they just witnessed. they cannot believe it and wondered what’s between you and park sunghoon. they are beyond surprise and you can’t help but to just shrug it off. what more if they finds out his three other friends are involve too?
the classes continued normally, or that’s what you try to make yourself believe. the stares from your classmates are often darted at you. still not over about the scene a while ago. it was slowly getting annoying.
while writing down on your paper, you heard a chair being dragged to your side.
“hey,” your head looked over jake who just sat down.
“yeah?”
he tilts his head, “did you have fun?”
your mouth hangs open, what happened a while ago flashes back to your mind instantly because of his question. jake saw it and he grins before scoffing.
“you did.” he touches your chin to make you look up, “your face says it all.” he added and grins, masking the emotion slowly igniting inside his chest.
you gulped and licked your lips.
“j-jake,” you called him.
he raised one of his brows, waiting for what you’re going to say.
“about beomgyu...” your word halts.
the instant change on his mood just proves you that he has something to do with how the boys are treating you. his eyes turned cold, jaw clenching slightly.
“what about him?” his stingy tone rings your head.
“its not what you think—”
“jake.” both of your heads whips to the direction of the voice who called him.
lee heeseung stood by the door, watching you both with his heated gaze. his eyes shifts to yours and it sent direct chills. your head lowering as an automatic response.
“y/n, can you grab these workbooks and help me take it to the student council office?”
envious eyes darted at your direction when he ask you that. you can even hear someone commented that why should it be you. his dark gaze he gave you indicates that you have no other choice but to follow him.
you stood up, jake's eyes stayed and never left you. he watch how you walks towards the table, near his friend. jay and sunghoon seems uninterested as they bicker over something he doesn’t care at all.
“which one should i carry?” you asked heeseung.
he used his chin to point the fewer stacks of workbooks, he took the heavier stacks. he’s the first one to leave the room and you stalked behind him. students in the hallways greets heeseung with amusement through their eyes. they don’t even notice you at all. they’re too focused on him.
when you arrived the student council office, he stops beside the door then glance at you with serious eyes. your stomach churns and suddenly felt agitated.
“place those books here so you can open the door.” he instructed that you obeyed right away.
he didn’t even budge from his position when you place additional weight to what he’s carrying. totally unbothered.
you opened the door for him and hold it so it wouldn’t be on the way. he smoothly walks inside and you remained standing by door, looking at him placing it neatly at the table.
his eyes trailed towards you.
“get inside and lock the door.” he says and you saw him loosening his school tie.
you gulped and instantly felt on edge. he watch how you closed the door and he only looked away after hearing the sound of the lock clicking.
“sit down here, angel.”
angel.
you blushed so hard and its a little crazy how one word affects you so much. the somersault inside your stomach added weigh on your emotions. his heated gaze totally not helping.
“heeseung, about beomgyu...” you started.
his face remained blank. unlike jake, he didn’t show any foul mood or anything. but that slightly bothers you more. heeseung is always calm, very reserved. his mysterious demeanor pulls you more into him, digging a bigger space for your curiosity.
“it wasn’t what you guys think. i know what’s happening these days is somehow connected to him.”
he sighed heavily and tilts his head, “we already warned you and sent him a message.”
the way he talks sounded so calm. like nothing can ever make him nervous or anxious. he never stutters and speaks with so much confidence. he knows what he’s saying and that’s makes him more attractive in people’s eyes. what’s sexier than a man who knows what he wants in life?
“he just told me that he’s sorry—”
“if he’s really sorry then he should just stayed away.” he cuts you off.
you licked your lips and was about to talk again when he lets out a strained sigh.
“enough.”
“i j-just—”
“strip for me.” your mouth hangs open and stared at his eyes.
he looked serious as usual. his eyes silently conveying a message that you’ll get in trouble if you don’t obey him right away. without much of a choice, you start to take off sunghoon’s uniform.
he looked at it with no emotion and brows slightly twitched at the sight of a bruise by your arm. it doesn’t really hurt, but it was evident.
“does it hurt?” his tone full of concern.
you’re quite amused at him, blushing.
“no. don’t worry.”
“he lost control, didn’t he?” his hand reaches for it, caressing it gently like it will aid it. he looks at your eyes, waiting for your answer.
“just f-for a short time...”
he sighs and nods his head. this isn’t the time to talk or think about sunghoon’s bad temper. he tilt his chin, asking you to continue. when you’re left with your underwears he stood up then stared down at you.
“lay down on the table.”
your eyes grew big, hesitant to his request.
“won’t they come here? i thought the student body are busy today...?”
he glanced on your eyes once and it was enough to shut your mouth then do as he says. he offered his hand for assistance. his hand are warm, unlike sunghoon’s. he helped you step on a chair so you can climb on the table.
it feels so awkward sitting on it and having heeseung stand in between your thighs.
“lay down. i want to eat you.” he said so casually that made your core twitch in so much anticipation.
you wanted to curse yourself for how your body reacts to them. this isn’t how it suppose to be. you should protest and tell them off. or even get mad because you thought they’re already interested to a different girl. but... why do you find yourself laying back on the table while lee heeseung is gradually taking your panties off?
“breath, angel.” he smirks and you glanced away feeling guilty. he knew you’ve been holding your breath since you climb to this table.
the feeling of being this naked in front of heeseung is so overwhelming, both in good and bad ways.
“eyes on me.”
his command made you lift your body so you can see him dip his head and spit on your already wet pussy. you pursed your lips, doesn’t want to let out a moan.
he lifts his hand and slide one finger inside. you can feel it so long and warm.
“did he stretch you enough for me?” he whispers so close to your cunt, his hot breath fanning to your wet core.
“heeseung...”
“shh.” he glared at you then added another finger.
“god, this pussy.” he groans and leans in attaching his lips, lapping your cunt.
“heeseung..” you moaned and covers your lips, feeling shy by how you whimper. it sounded pathetic.
the feeling of his hot long tongue grazing and slightly getting inside your hole drives you crazy. your thighs automatically closes, caging his head in between.
he looks at you over his eyelashes, one hand pushed your thigh open. he leans away, “keep it open for me, angel.”
he smirks and placed a kiss on the insides of your thighs, “i know it feels so good, but i want your legs open.”
he grabbed both of your hands, making you hold your legs. you whimpered, feeling frustrated that his lips are not latched on your aching core. he glanced at you and smirks after seeing your desperation.
“patience, angel.”
he then dips his head again and started eating you. it felt so good, he was doing it expertly, making your head all fuzzy.
“oh my gosh,” you moaned and throw your head back after feeling a knot forming inside your stomach.
“i’m c-cumming,”
“really? give it to me.”
and with that you released, legs shaking and eyes tightly shut. heeseung made sure he gets all of your juices, nothing spills. you tried to open your eyes to look at him and the scene was so erotic. heeseung put his lips on your hole and suck it.
“uggh.” your eyes shuts and lips shakes in so much pleasure.
he kept sucking and gave your slit one last long lick. after that, he stood up and wiped off his chin. he looked so satisfied. he helped you get up, head still all clouded with the intense feeling he just gave you.
he then took off his clothes and went to sit down at the sofa. the same couch where jay took you yesterday. he rests his arms and watch you intensely.
“ride me.”
with wobbly legs, you walked towards him. once in reach, he slides his hand on your waist and helps you to get in position. your straddle above him, knees bore at the sofa. he hold you and watch how you reach for his hardened cock. you gave it a few strokes before placing its head near your hole.
“oohh,” you can’t help but to moan.
“slowly...” he whispers, face already on your side. his lips grazes your ears dangerously.
the lust took over you completely, taking control of your mind and actions. you are losing it, just wanted to have him deep inside you. lower lip trapped in between your teeth you slowly sat on heeseung’s long thick cock, moaning as it reaches all the right spots.
“u-uhhh,” your stretched moan made heeseung grin. satisfied at how you’re so eager to have him inside you.
“move, angel. fuck my cock into you.” he whispered full of lust like hypnotizing you.
you started riding him, at first with slow pace until you feel more desperate for him. moaning and gasping as you continued bouncing, not caring if someone from outside hear your shenanigans.
“feel so good.” you mumbled.
“oh yeah? ride faster.”
you obeyed, but your poor stamina and the overstimuation makes you feel so weak. you slump on his lap, cock buried deep inside. your head rested on his shoulder, panting.
“tired already?” he asks softly that you responded with a short nod.
he chuckles and placed a swift kiss on your cheeks. “all right. place your hand on the sofa and lift yourself a bit, angel. i will fuck you myself.”
pulling yourself together, you do as he said. eyes half-lidded drowned in your own desires. heeseung watches with a grin and kisses you once at your lips before starting to rutt his cock to your cunt, his hips moving so fast that you make you a moaning mess.
“o-oh my gosh...” and your forehead rests on his shoulder.
“my baby so weak that he needs me to fuck you myself, hmm?” he bit your earlobe once that made you whimper.
the slapping sounds of your skins so erotic. enough to make you feel the knot inside your stomach once again. your grip on the sofa tighten along with your hole, making the man under you groan in pleasure.
“cumming already?”
you nod while biting your lips so hard. he smirks and kisses you eagerly, feeling himself reaching his climax as well.
“cum with me, angel.”
with a few more hard thrusts from heeseung, you came all over his length and not long after, he follows. groaning so hard while kissing you with furrowed brows. he kept fucking his dick in you while supporting you so you won’t fall.
he pulls away to focus on sliding his cock in and out as you rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling at crook of his neck.
“you’re such a good girl for me. for all of us.” you heard him whisper before placing a sweet kiss at your forehead.
“okay class we will have a group research project and i want you to participate properly in your group. i don’t want to hear some complains.” your teacher in your last period said.
the class reacts and gave their own comments. some already rants, the others being happy to do a group project and even say the people they wanted to work with.
you, on the other hand is resting your head on your table. too tired to even give a care about it. thankfully, the teacher after the lunch break didn’t attend and so you had the chance to take a nap after what you and heeseung did.
the thought itself made you blush so hard.
you teacher started announcing the groups. you tried hard to listen, waiting for your name to be called.
“park jongseong, jake sim, lee heeseung, park sunghoon and (surname) y/n).”
you slowly raised your head, blinking while staring in front. confused if you heard that right. did she just call your name? whose your group mates again?
“damn, she’s so lucky. why does it have to be her?” one of your girl classmates whispered to her friend while giving you a glaring look.
you noticed that the class are now moving seats to gather around by groups. still spacing out, you glanced around. waiting for someone to call you.
jake sim then raised his hand while jay pulls a vacant chair near his. the four pairs of eyes darts at you.
“y/n, come! we’re partners!” jake says excitedly.
your mouth fell open slightly while eyeing their direction. jake’s smile is wide, jay’s smirking along with sunghoon while heeseung eyes you seriously.
‘oh no...’ you thought to yourself.
since you don’t want to be scolded by your teacher, you stood up and slowly head to their direction.
“we’re going to have so much fun...” jake stated meaningfully before winking at you.
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#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen imagines#enhypen hyung line#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen park jongseong#enhypen jay smut#enhypen jake sim#enhypen jake smut#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon smut
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The thought of you being with anyone else has always made Satoru sick to his stomach. He can't imagine you loving others more than you love him, and if he ever sees you giggling or smiling at someone else the way you do with him, he'll find a way to include himself or put an end to it overall.
It's understandable that you're at your wits end with his immaturity and his inability to make you feel like he trusts you around others, as his girlfriend, but that doesn't mean he wants you to leave him. He can do better. He can make you feel better. He always does.
You're sitting at the dining room table, working on some slides for an upcoming presentation. You're in your zone, focused, even wearing your big noise cancelling headphones, which blast your calming music playlist into your ears.
Satoru sits on the other end of the table, straight across from you. He watches the focus and concentration that has silently etched into your features, his hands folded as he, too, focuses. You haven't said a word to him in the past two hours. You let him know that you'd be working on schoolwork, but he knew there was something cold running through you when you told him this. He could tell you were still upset about what had happened earlier.
It was a brief interaction you had with someone who simply laughed at the sight of your keychain. They complimented it because it was a character from one of their favorite shows. This two minute interaction was enough for Satoru to storm over to you and the unfamiliar person. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he stared the stranger down with a smile so sweet, it was obvious that it was fake. You were uncomfortable, the stranger was uncomfortable, and Satoru was radiating possession over you. You managed to chuckle nervously and apologized for the interruption.
You can feel his heavenly eyes on you, and you're trying your hardest not to crack under the tension. He always manages to fluster you so easily when he watches you, making it much more difficult to get things done.
The silence makes him want to create noise. He wants you to make noise with him. He wants to show you that he loves you and that he does things like that because you're wanted by many, but are doomed to be only his. He'll make you forget the incident ever happened. He can make you feel better. He'll discreetly plant his firm custom of only fantasizing about you, through his touch, and he'll remind you of the way his eyes lock onto you whenever you move, while he watches your reaction to him running his hands all over you. For fucks sake, you're the nightly stars in the sky to him. What's wrong with treating you as such?
Satoru slowly rises from his seat. You're unbothered by the movement, not looking up as he makes his way around the table. He stands behind you, silently setting his hands on your shoulders, as he glimpses at the professional looking word vomit on your laptop. He sweeps your hair back, clearing your shoulders.
You finally read a part of the text that can be used as evidence later on in the slides, and immediately jot it down in your notes. You're not giving Satoru the attention he wants, so he carefully removes your headphones. That definitely does the job.
"I need those. I can't focus without them." You put your pencil down and stop scrolling on your laptop, turning to look at him.
"And I need you to take a break. You said that isn't due 'til next week."
You roll your eyes and exhale through your nose, turning to face your screen again. "Guess I can work without them," you grumble.
He puts the headphones down on a counter behind him and his hands go back to your shoulders, this time dragging forward, dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt. The collar will surely be stretched out by the time he removes his hands.
"Did you hear what I said?" He asks, voice low enough to make your heart drop. His hands slide into the cups of your bra from above, allowing him to hold your breasts.
"I did," you respond, feigning nonchalance, when really you've read the same short passage three times now, as a result of his touch.
"Take a break." He squeezes, gently, taking in the quick jolt of your body when he started concentrating on your nipples. "Indulge me," he spoke, against your ear. He dragged his lips down the side of your neck, kissing every inch of it. It was warm and wet, and it was driving you crazy.
"Satoru..." you said, more breathily than expected. "I need to do this." You contradict yourself and tilt your head to give him more room. He's so enticing. He already has you on board with whatever he has planned, but you'll unstably stand your ground for a couple more minutes to deflate his ego a little.
"If you don't come with me..." he murmurs. "...I will go down there and make it impossible for you to keep working," he continued, between kissing and sucking your neck. Your thighs were pressed together, tightly, and you were so turned on by everything he was doing, all for you to throw him a bone.
You sighed. The pressure offered by your thighs was not enough to satisfy your want for the man touching you.
"Let me put your mind at ease. Bet your brain is fried. Why not just finish it off?" His hands slid out of your shirt, settling on your shoulders once more.
You reached for your pencil, only for your hand to be immediately swatted down by Satoru's hand and pinned to the table.
"Really?" His voice brought goosebumps to your skin.
You sighed in defeat and saved your documents before shutting your laptop, allowing him to lead you to the room. He hummed in satisfaction as you walked with his hand tight around yours.
–
"Satoru! Fuck- Holy- Oh... more, please!" Your words jumbled in an attempt to ask him to keep going against the spot he was abusing. His fingers were slowing, and the stimulation wasn't as prominent. "No. N-No! I was gonna-"
"I know," he cuts you off. "Don't want you to cum yet, sweetie," he groans, using every ounce of patience he has. He wants nothing more than for you to cry out for him once he makes you cum, but you're still thinking, meaning you can still think of the situation from earlier.
"'toru, please. I was so close. This is the second time already."
"Once you break, i'll fix you, babe. I swear. I'll make you cum more than you want to, but give me a little longer, 'kay?"
The transparency of his goal was relieving, but knowing that you'd be toyed with a while longer was frustrating.
"Don't worry your pretty head about when you'll get to cum. It could happen aaany minute now. You have to remember our rule." He smiles, watching the way your stomach quivers in anticipation of his fingers touching your cunt.
You closed your eyes and drowned in the feeling of Satoru's touch. He knows you so well. Knows what turns you on, knows exactly how to get you off, and know how to make you cum in just a couple minutes. He uses this against you when he needs to, but for the most part, Satoru is fair. He's good to you.
Eventually a rule had to be introduced in bed because of his ability to make you cum impossibly fast. The rule implied that if there was enough time to drag your pleasure out, you should make use of all that time, even if it means you don't get as many orgasms. You both agreed that Satoru mastering your weaknesses took away parts of the intimacy when he got you to orgasm so quickly, so he doesn't use those methods as much. He prefers to build you up, anyway. You loved and hated the rule. Loved that you would be observed and touched for longer, and hated that the touch fled as soon as you were on the brink of orgasm.
"Satoru!" You gasp. "Please, I... I-I need this!"
His pace slows again, your body trembling as he pulled his fingers out and stopped all contact with you. His coated digits dragged along your thigh, painting you with translucent wetness. You're so sensitive, twitching at when his fingertips ghost your slit.
"You're getting there." He smiles, too kindly at you.
"Satoru," you groan. He didn't deserve to go by ''toru' in this moment. "If I wanted to be edged, I would have stayed at the table, doing my work while you did whatever you wanted to me, had I not followed you."
"Don't be upset, princess. We both know your brain will shut off the second I make you cum. I just need you with me for a little longer." The kind smile fell off his face. "For the record, I wasn't kidding when I said I would stop you from getting any work done at kitchen table. I promise you, you would have made zero progress."
His switch flipped again, and he gave you a loving grin. He looked up at you from between your thighs, his pretty, blue eyes centered on your own. You love when he looks at you like this—like you're his world, and he would do anything to keep you chained to him. It's moments like this that keep you sane around him. He has this intensity to him when he's alone with you. It causes any doubt you have of his love for you to vanish, instantly. You can never stay mad for long enough when he looks at you this way.
He kisses along your inner thigh, his eyes glue to yours as he does so. His hand stays on your hip, softly pressing his fingertips into the skin. You trembled in his hold when you felt his tongue slide through your folds again. His arms hooked around your thighs, holding you in place when you began to squirm.
"Satoru..." you sighed, your hands gripping the sheets tighter.
"Princess." A smile runs across his lips, not interrupting him as he continues to debilitate you with his mouth.
"Can I please... fuck," you moan. "Please... please," you beg, eyes shut as you try to compose yourself before you continue speaking, but he was relentless.
He let his hands take over, his full attention on what you wanted to say. His thumb glided up and down your slit, occasionally sparing attention to your clit, which only drove you closer to insanity.
"Go on. I'm listening." He very much was listening, your little breaths and whimpers so sweet to his ears.
"Can I cum, please?" Your hips rolled against the mattress, chasing the friction of his fingers against your pussy. This brought a satisfied grin to his face.
"Did you finish all your work?" He looks down to where he's working his fingers into you, mesmerized by the way your slick drooled down his reddened knuckles and the back of his hand.
"T-That's not fair. You pulled me away from my work."
He chuckles at the impatience in your tone. "That's not what I asked you, baby. Did you or did you not finish your work?" His index and middle fingers beckon inside your velvety walls.
"N-No, fuck, no. I didn't," you whimper.
"I love you to death, but I never said this would be a fair game. I'm gonna have to say 'no', too, baby."
You looked like you were on the verge of tears. Tears of impatience and frustration.
"Oh..." he coos. "It's okay. You'll be okay." He placed little kisses on your thighs, as if comforting you through this seemingly endless loop you were trapped in because of him. "Honey, you're gonna be fine. I've got you."
—
Your eyes became waterfalls towards the end of Satoru's game. You were ruined and all hope of cumming any time soon fled by the fifth orgasm you were denied of. He showed you all the affection he could to make up for how selfish he was being with your pleasure. There were fresh hickeys as well as purpling ones all over your lower body.
Satoru loved that he had reduced you to a whimpering, sobbing mess, with just his hands and his mouth. Your arousal, as well as his saliva, coated the better part of the bottom of his face.
His fingers entered you one last time brushing every point of weakness within you, repeatedly.
"Fuck- Oh fuck... Sa...toru!" You moaned. This was different. It was better. It was good. So, so good.
His lips attached to your clit, sucking on it mercilessly.
"Holy fuck..." you whined, sitting up, tangling one of your hands into his hair. Your back arched and your face was aimed towards the ceiling as you took every ounce of pleasure he graced you with. The edge was so close, within reach.
"Please, Satoru, oh my god... please."
With one more curl of his fingers and a swirl of his pointed tongue on your clit, you were launched into oblivion— lost to the overwhelming sensation seeping into you. You cried out his name, him being the only thing running through your mind. Your eyes were shut so tightly that tears spilled down your cheeks all over again. You were panting, cracked whimpers leaving you as you rolled your hips against the mattress. Your grip on his hair tightened even more.
All Satoru could do was watch with marvel, completely ignoring the pain in his scalp. You had the prettiest blush, and like a crystal glaze, your tears decorated your face so stunningly. Your eyes fluttered open again and you looked at him through wet lashes, the most flustered expression on your face as you continued to release small puffs of air. It's then that the constant thoughts of you that echo through Satoru's mind come forward. No one is enough like you are. No one deserves you.
In all the loving thoughts Satoru got caught up in, he was unintentionally starting to overstimulate you. He wouldn't let up, too mesmerized by the way you said his name so sweetly. His arms prevented you from shutting your legs. He couldn't deny that he loved the little grunting sounds you made, and the shuddered "'toru..." you whimpered out when you couldn't handle everything he was giving you anymore.
He finally let up and patted your thigh, silently praising you for being so good for him. Your eyes were shut and your chest was still heaving as you worked to steady your breathing.
There was no doubt in Satoru's mind that you weren't thinking of his little display of possession from earlier, anymore. Just as planned, but just to be completely certain, he would repeat the process a few more times.
#gojo#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#gojo fic#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#jjk gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#fanfic#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fic#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk scenarios
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can’t study for my test because i’m having brain rot about neil accidentally getting super drunk and stumbling up to aaron like “andrew???” and aaron is like “wrong one” and neil is like “andrew.” and aaron is like “???? are you stupid” and neil goes to look for andrew but he stumbles into the table, and aaron has to catch him or he will get trampled for fucks sake, and neil just collapses into him in a drunk cuddly heap. and aaron is like “neil. you need to stand up” and neil is like “i am” and aaron is like “that’s because i’m holding you up” and they get neil to stand but neil kinda just flops into aaron’s arms again. and neil is like “i don’t hate you, i don’t, but it’s okay if you hate me” and aaron is like “ugh, ew are you really an emotional drunk???” and neil, to aaron’s horror, looks at him with tears in his eyes because you know when you’re too drunk and you kind of just get a little scared and you need help???? ya. and aaron is like … ok. and kinda holds neil until andrew comes back from the bar with more drinks. and he sees neil basically asleep on aaron’s shoulder, and aaron looking uncomfortable but accepting, so he kinda raises an eyebrow, an okay? and aaron nods and is just patting neil on his back
and tomorrow they’ll wake up and neil will toddle downstairs with his hand against his temple and aaron will have advil ready for him, and he’ll say “you’re annoying and you don’t know when to shut your mouth or mind your own business, but i don’t hate you” and the thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for staying goes unsaid but yeah
and that’s how aaron and neil became kind of friends
edit: vomited out a one shot for y’all (this will prob become a 5+1)
Aaron swirled his drink a few times, listening to the ice clacking against the glass.
Eden’s was packed tonight, courtesy of it being the end of the school year. College students and the regular patrons flocked to the bar, the dance floor, and all of the tables, leaving Aaron to reserve a high-top table, and his legs to dangle from the stool.
“Drew?”
Aaron ignored him in favor of the twinkling sound the ice makes in his glass. He’d already taken shots, danced, had another drink, danced again, and now Aaron’s body was heavy with alcohol and exhaustion.
“Drew,” Neil said again.
Aaron looked around their table and didn’t see Andrew. He remembered Andrew getting up and walking to the bar with their empty tray. Aaron found him a few seconds later, hands in his pockets at the bar. That and Neil, staring up at him, looking uneasy.
Before Aaron could tell Neil to get out of his face, Neil was speaking.
“Are you’nt having fun?” Neil frowned, blinking sleepy, hooded eyes at him. He leaned closer to study Aaron’s face.
“What are you doing?” Aaron grumbled, pushing Neil’s face away.
Aaron hadn’t even pushed him hard, he more removed Neil from his space rather than pushed him, but Neil wobbled like his world had tilted out of orbit. Aaron realized, quickly, that Neil was going to fall backwards. He grabbed two fistfuls of Neil’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Neil’s head lulled on his shoulders with the force, his chin hitting his chest then righting itself.
Aaron’s stomach lurched, sick with the thought that someone had put something in one of Neil’s drinks, as he would for anyone, but thankfully he’s never been put in that situation. Neil’s eyes were hooded, his face flushed. Aaron snapped once at Neil’s ear, and Neil recoiled immediately.
“Does your head hurt or anything?” Aaron asked. Neil shook his head, frowning.
“Are you dizzy? Follow my finger.” Aaron pushes Neil back so he can see his face, keeping one hand on Neil’s shoulder to hold him up. Neil follows Aaron’s finger as it moves back and forth, albeit a little labored, but not as if he’d been roofied. Aaron declares that Neil’s reaction times and responses are fine, but he still pulls the front of his shirt up and checks his belt, the button of his pants.
“What—?” Neil slapped a hand on his abdomen, stopping his shirt from being lifted any higher. Aaron didn’t need to see anything but his pants, but it was reassuring that Neil still had inhibitions.
His clothes were fine. His belt was still done, zipper up. No one had tried anything. Aaron relaxed.
“Sorry,” Aaron said. “Sorry, I just needed to…”
While racking his mind back to why Neil is this drunk, Aaron remembered Neil taking shots with Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin. Four shots. He’d seen Neil sip on another drink like the idiot had the tolerance for alcohol that the rest of them had.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Aaron said and released Neil. Neil attempted to step back, his hands raised in surrender.
“No?” Neil asked warily. Even drunk as fuck, he still respected boundaries. Andrew’s boundaries specifically, as it still hadn’t registered that he wasn’t talking to the right twin.
“I’m not Andrew,” Aaron said.
“Where’s Andrew?” Neil asked, turning his head pathetically in search. Aaron only had a good view of Andrew because they were seated at a high-top. Over the throng of taller people coupled with strobing lights, Neil’s view was obstructed.
“At the bar,” Aaron nodded in that direction.
Neil turned towards the bar. Well, he attempted to. He pivoted, lost his balance, and toppled into the table. He tried to right himself and started to fall to the other side. Aaron caught Neil before he could bust his shit and get trampled.
“Jesus Christ, Josten,” Aaron spat, righting Neil with hands on his biceps. Neil slapped a hand on the table and leaned his weight on it. The table quaked under such abuse, but held.
Neil turned slowly, grappling against the table as if he was standing in one of those spinning fair rides. In his excursion to simply spin 180°, his hand slipped off the edge of the table as he faced Aaron once again. He reached for the table, missed, reached for it again, missed, said, “Motherfucker,” under his breath, and finally gripped onto the edge. His eyes locked on Aaron’s again, and Neil’s useless hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder.
“Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron didn’t know if it was more a request or if it was just not registering.
“Wrong,” Aaron said, tense under Neil’s hand, but he didn’t push him off. He’d rather hold Neil up than peel him off the floor. “Aaron.”
“‘m very drunk,” Neil said, looking up pleadingly at Aaron as if he had a magical cure to shitfacedness, and all Neil had to do for it was look a little scared. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Aaron asked.
“I’m drunk.”
Aaron snorted. “That’s kind of the point when you’re at a bar.”
“But,” Neil said, taking a labored breath, “I’m…too drunk.”
This was beginning to feel exceedingly similar to speaking to a child. Aaron was annoyed, but not completely heartless, unlike the narrative of Aaron Neil had likely concocted. “It’s okay, Neil,” Aaron said. “You should sit down.”
Neil promptly sat as if there was a chair under him, but there was not. Aaron, still holding Neil vertical, got pulled out of his chair with the momentum. To avoid toppling to the ground—which did not get mopped as often as it should—Aaron planted his feet on the floor and hauled Neil up by his armpits.
“Help,” Neil murmured. His arms dropped to his sides as he yielded his dead weight to Aaron.
“Stand up,” Aaron grunted, readjusting to wrap an arm around Neil’s back. One of Neil’s arms flopped over Aaron’s shoulder.
“I am,” Neil complained.
“No, you are not.”
“I am.”
“Neil,” Aaron said through clenched teeth, “I am holding you up. You need to lock your knees.”
“Oh,” Neil said. He looked at his feet as if he needed to check they were on the ground.
To be fair, Neil did lock his knees, but he also leaned all of his upper body on Aaron, arms still hanging limply at his sides. He tucked his head into Aaron’s neck with, what seemed, every intention to make a home there for the night.
“Neil,” Aaron said, frozen against the hair tickling his cheek. “God dammit.”
“And…ron,” Neil spoke against his shoulder.
“Yes,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That’s me.”
“Can I j’stay here?” Neil slurred.
From what Aaron had seen of Neil’s dynamic with his brother, he knew Neil would get off if he said no. He could place Neil into a stool or pull up a chair with a back so he wouldn’t fall out and concuss himself. He could shove Neil off and make him fend for himself. He could pawn him off to Andrew.
At the moment, those other options seemed like far too much work.
That, or maybe it was the med student in him, the intrinsic urge to heal and help and nurture that smarted at the thought of pushing Neil off.
Aaron didn’t push him off when Neil readjusted and tucked an arm into his chest, the other gripping Aaron for stability. He didn’t when Neil asked again, a quiet, “Aaron.”
“Okay,” Aaron conceded. He rubbed a hand up and down Neil’s back placatingly, but also because Neil seemed like he needed it. And he came to Aaron for it. Well, he came to Andrew and got Aaron. But he didn’t push Aaron off, and Aaron hasn’t done the same.
And they just…stood like that. For what seemed like a long time, but it probably was only a few minutes before Neil spoke again.
“Aaron,” Neil said.
Aaron hummed in response.
“I don’ hate you.”
“What?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Neil?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“What?” Aaron said again.
“I don’wanna fight.” Neil lets out a colossal breath.
“We haven’t fought in a long time,” Aaron says, his idea of agreement. Acceptance.
Neil was quiet, because it was true. Neil seemed content to lay in Aaron’s arms, and Aaron didn’t have another stool next to him. He sure as shit wasn’t giving his up for Neil, but Neil was genuinely so unsteady on his feet that Aaron couldn’t let him go.
He trembled a bit, and Aaron was almost amused that after everything Neil had been through, being a little too drunk is what finally did it for him.
But Aaron had felt that way before. Inebriated and scared in a crowded room of strangers. Neil, however, has people he knows. How can Aaron be upset at Neil for wanting the comfort that he also craved? How can he be upset that Neil feels safe enough with Andrew to ask for help? That his brother finally feels safe with someone too?
“Aaron,” Neil said.
“What,” Aaron said.
“It’s okay if you hate me.”
“Oh God,” Aaron groaned, “Ew. Are you really an emotional drunk?”
Neil pulled back and, to Aaron’s horror, there were actual tears in his eyes. His lip trembled as he bit it, holding the tears in. Aaron hated how much of himself he was seeing in Neil tonight. The harrowing fact that maybe they are quite similar.
“Oh God,” Aaron said again, mortified. He grabbed the back of Neil’s head and shoved it back into his shoulder, effectively hiding Neil’s teary face.
He cast a desperate look to Andrew, who was finally on his way back to the table. He patted Neil on the shoulder, like one would burp a baby when they have no idea how to do so.
“Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t need prompting to look. His eyes were trained on Neil and Aaron from the moment he turned around. By the nonchalance of his movements and his lack of alarm, Aaron guessed he had been watching their interaction.
Andrew set the tray down on the table and cast a significant look between them, settling on Neil’s intoxicated form keeled over on Aaron’s shoulder.
Andrew raises one eyebrow, a silent question, an okay?
Aaron finds himself nodding, and unsure why. All he knows right now, a few drinks in, is that he doesn’t hate this. And he doesn’t hate that Neil doesn’t hate him.
-
The smell of coffee set Neil’s feet moving like a Pavlovian response. He was half awake already with a pounding headache, like his eyeballs were beating his closed lids to death.
Neil toddles down the stairs with his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard to his temple, stabilizing his brain.
Aaron was standing at the counter already, facing the sputtering coffee pot. His arms were crossed, hair ruffled from sleep. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned.
The memories from last night played past Neil’s mind like a sped-up movie. He grimaced in embarrassment, and felt a little sick at how drunk he was. How stupid he was, to drink that much. He should have known his tolerance isn’t matched with the rest of them. He could have gotten hurt, could have said something—
Fuck.
“Fuck,” Neil said, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He turned back to the coffee, though his posture was rigid.
Neil grabbed a glass of water. He noticed Aaron watching from the corner of his eye, but Neil chose to ignore him, figuring that’s best. He sat on the counter with his water, sipping it slowly while he and Aaron waited for the coffee to finish brewing.
The silence was thick, but they were both too stubborn to leave the kitchen. Usually, they preferred to wait and pretend the other wasn’t there.
That’s what Neil thought, at least. After a painful few minutes, Aaron huffed and grabbed the bottle of Advil from the drawer next to the sink. He shook two pills out and sat them next to Neil.
Neil stared at them until Aaron cast a pointed look at the pills, then physically gestured to them with raised brows. Neil took them while Aaron watched.
The coffee pot beeped. Aaron made a split second decision, grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee into them. He slid Neil’s across the counter. It sloshed over the side, but Aaron wasn’t capable of caring at the moment. His mind was busy, and he knew Neil had noticed his lack of eye contact; the analytical fuck.
“Look,” Aaron said. He did not look at Neil to say it. “You’re annoying, and you never know when to shut your mouth or mind your business. Most of the time, I’m convinced you have a death wish, and a lot of the time I find myself resenting you. You complicated our lives, put us all in danger, didn’t give a shit.”
Neil’s chest hurt. He didn’t know if it was anger or guilt. Aaron started talking again before he could figure it out.
“But I don’t hate you. I can’t, really. I can’t even fault you for the shitty things you did, because it all worked out.” Aaron glanced quickly at Neil, looked away. His cheeks were red.
The thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for being good to Andrew went unsaid, but Aaron hoped Neil wasn’t obtuse enough to force him to say it out loud.
Neil must have understood, because he nodded. Aaron figured that was as close to a reconciliation they were going to have, so he leaned against the counter and pretended everything was normal.
For the first time, they drank their coffee in silence without animosity orchestrating it.
Neil’s mug was half empty when Andrew joined them. He paused in the doorway, squinty eyed and mussed, looking between the two. Neil on the counter, Aaron leaning against it. Their silence, but lack of tension.
“This is weird,” Andrew finally said, his voice gravely from sleep.
“Yeah,” Neil and Aaron said simultaneously.
Neil glanced over his mug at Aaron, the corner of his mouth twitching. Aaron regarded it, but looked away, because something like contentment had made its way onto Andrew’s face.
Aaron smiled at that instead.
#andrew’s watching from the bar like ‘what in the fuck.’#neil isn’t allowed to drink vodka anymore#andrew got tired of him crying#(not actually)#(his heart just *does something* when he sees neil in tears#(he does not like it)#he gets anxious and sad if he drinks too much#and he’s such a lightweight and doesn’t know his limits#so it happens a couple times before andrew is like ‘nope’#and monitors neil until they find a fun fuzzy drunk#not a sad scary one#neil doesn’t even drink that often but after 4 years in college he obviously does more than a few times#aftg#tfc#the foxhole court#aftg brainrot#neil josten#aaron minyard#andrew minyard#all for the game#trk#tkm#andreil
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eddie fucking you in the back of his van whilst it’s raining😫
hope you like it lovie!! — after a series of ruined date nights, eddie makes up for another failure the only way he knows how (established relationship, smut 18+, 1.4k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie was gonna take you out, come hell or high water — literally.
It was like the universe was conjuring up ways to keep you apart. He tries to plan a date night with you, and suddenly you have to pick up your coworker’s extra shift and the brakes in his van don’t work anymore.
He takes you to a drive-in to see some black-and-white horror movie, and for the first time in weeks, things are actually looking pretty good. With some candy he brought from home, the two of you settle under the covers in the back of his van, lazing against one another as the projector flickers on.
And then it just starts fucking pouring.
It’s like he blinks and the whole thing gets canceled and the entire parking lot is empty.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he grumbles under his breath, not unlike the black storm clouds rolling overhead.
You giggle at his dramatics. The heavenly sound melts with the wild cadence of rain, tapping rhythmically against the rusted tin roof of the van.
You’re still being a good sport about the whole thing despite the circumstances. You don’t care what you’re doing, really. You’re happy just doing nothing with Eddie.
“They refunded us for next week. We can just come back Saturday.”
“I wanted to do it this Saturday,” he whines, all boyishly angry. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his head back and bares his milky white neck. “This was supposed to be our night together— why does everything have to get so fucked all the time?”
“It’s not like everything’s totally ruined,” you assure him, practically cooing as you smooth out the frown between his brows with your thumb. “At least we’re together. Who cares about the rest of it?”
“I know, but… You were really excited about it. And I was really excited to watch you watch the movie.”
Eddie tries to be serious, but he’s grinning the second he makes you laugh.
“Shut up…”
“I mean it,” he tells you, serious and quiet with it. His cheek squishes against his shoulder when he pouts at you. “I think I might be heartbroken, babe.”
You know what he’s playing at. You lean into it, anyway.
“Yeah?” you hum with narrowed eyes.
He nods.
“Want me to make it better?”
“Please?”
You close the short distance between you to press a kiss to his mouth. It’s the chastest little peck — you’re practically gone the second you’re there. Eddie chases you when you pull away, tasting of nicotine and pink starbursts when he kisses you deeper.
You get lost in him like it’s nothing, sighing when his soft tongue juts gently against your own. He’s sucking softly at your bottom lip one second, and the next, you’re lying on a pile of fuzzy blankets.
His rings and cold knuckles brush your sides when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for its removal. You come to then, pulling back from him with a low click sounding between your kissed mouths.
“Wait…”
“What?” he wonders, lips rosy and swollen. His deep, chocolate eyes dart between both of yours, looking for any sign that something might be wrong.
“Won’t we get in trouble?”
“No— Everyone already left.”
He’s breathless from having been kissed so ardently. He leans down for more anyway. His stomach twists with rejection when you press against his shoulders to stop him.
With a sigh, he concedes and rises off of you again. His shirt is wrinkled and skewed around his neck from your passionate touches. Still on his knees, he reaches for the metal handle of the back door and shouts into the roaring rain — “Hello? Anyone out here?”
“Eddie!” you shout, giggling and jerking backward when rogue droplets sprinkle inside.
The van shakes when he slams the door shut again.
“See?” he lilts with a lopsided grin. “No one.”
You shake your head at him. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“You love me, though,” he mutters as he settles back over you. The weight of his body is warm against your own. With your hands on his sides, you pull him somehow closer.
“Unfortunately…” you gripe, kissing the breath from his lungs a second later.
When he reaches for the hem of your shirt again, you let him take it off.
—————
The thundering rain against the roof almost drowns out your gentle moans. Eddie’s glad you’re breathing them right into his ear, so he can hear everything he’s doing to you.
His thrusts are slow and measured. Almost painfully unrushed. He shushes your begging to go faster — “Just let me make you feel good,” he mutters, slurred and low, “Let me hit that spot.” He pierces you with his cock, tilting his hips to hit deep inside you until you make a pretty noise for him, then he creeps back out again.
He never pulls all the way out, though, ‘cause he might die if he left the warm velvet you are around him. He keeps his pelvis pressed intently against your own, the coarse hair at the base of his cock steady on your pussy. The pressure against your clit is merciless.
“Put your legs around me, baby,” he mumbles against your mouth because he knows the different angle will make it better for you.
He almost smirks when you obey him without thinking, but his mouth parts with an unexpected moan before he can. You pull your knees back and tuck your ankles around his waist, heels pressing gently above his ass.
Your cunt widens and suckles him further in.
Eddie grumbles a hearty, poorly muffled moan into your neck.
“There you go— just like that,” he praises. “Doing so good for me, pretty. Always so good for me.”
You whine again, high and light, like the praise is equally as pleasurable as his cock.
His metal chain glides between your breasts when he pulls back from you. He tucks his ringed fingers into your waist and sits back on his haunches, balls resting warm and wet against your ass. He keeps rocking into you, unhurried.
“What happened to that mouth you had before, huh?” Eddie wonders, still breathless.
He smirks when you moan in response. He knows you don’t have the words to answer him. He knows he’s fucked you far too stupid.
“Thought I was incorrigible, remember? What happened to that?”
Your mouth parts in a silent whimper, back arching and brows pinching when his cock hits deeper than you think he’s ever been. The pleasure feels borderline electric — makes your spine tingle and your legs go numb.
“Yeah… For someone who loves mouthing off—” Eddie continues to tease despite his breathlessness. You clench around him, and he has to remember to exhale. “—You open up so easily for me. Don’t ya, honey?”
You wanna say something. You think you almost do. But his thrusts are as merciless as they are slow. He presses impossibly deep within you and keeps hitting that spot until you tremble. The words get caught in your throat, along with a silent moan.
“That’s okay, honey. Just let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good,” Eddie slurs, mumbling like he’s talking to himself. “Go dumb for me like you always do. So perfect at that— god.”
He tilts his head back to howl a groan. Through fluttering lashes and a blurry vision, you see his clenched jaw and taut neck and heaving chest.
Eddie always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He loves to be dominant while he tears you apart, but as his own orgasm crawls up his spine, his true colors start to show.
He leans back over you again, caging you beneath his warm weight. He stops hiding his pathetic whines and whimpers and instead buries them into your sweat-slick shoulder. He babbles in your ear, a bunch of garbled nothingness because words are starting to lose meaning.
“Fuck, honey. Oh, fuck— you’re so fucking— shit. You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, you know that? So good for me. So soft, too. Shit. This pussy’s gonna kill me.”
He tucks his face into your neck and tries to kiss you through his whines. His ringed fingers crawl behind your back, holding you like his life depends on it while his measured thrusts grow rapid and sloppy.
Eddie begs you to cum, or rather demands it because he can feel himself about to explode. “Cum— Cum for me— right fucking now.”
You do. You’ve been hanging by a thread the whole time, really. And like you expected, Eddie’s not too far behind you. Your unabashed moans entwine, mixing with the wild cadence of the rain against the tin roof of the rocking van.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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your friend isn't always a genius
request
dom! aaron hotchner x brat reader
summary: Aaron's been on a case for to long reader decideds to be a brat but he gets home sooner than expected, turns out aaron got some advice from his friend.
warnings: use of y/n, masturbat!on fem, consensual voyeurism, being a brat, punishments, recording, daddy kink, mentions of spencer reid
it's been almost two weeks since aaron went on a case. it wasn't anything major, but with the towns police hindering the investigation due to a lack of knowledge and experience, he's had to stay longer than planned.
you know you can't blame aaron for being on a case, but having a break in routine always results in you bratting. so honestly, he shouldn't have expected less.
you currently sat on your knees infront of your full body mirror dressed in only a pair of pretty pink lace panties and one of aarons sleep shirts, taking pictures that you knew you'd get in trouble for. it didn't matter tho, you loved aarons punishments. you loved the way his hand felt when he spanked your ass or when you'd go brain dead from him fucking you so good. if you were being honest it was one of your favorite things.
sending the pictures to aaron you sit and wait for him to see it. it's around nine, and he's usually in the hotel by now unless they had a break in the case. you check and seeing that he read the text you pussy dampened and your heart speed up. waiting for a reply you sit there, and sit there, and sit. it's about 5 minutes when you decide to call him.
the phone ringing 3 times before he answers. 'hey sweetheart' he answers like he would normally. 'why didn't you answer my text?' you question, opting out of a greeting. 'because your not supposed to do that' he replys plainly. 'so? what you were just gonna ignore me?' you ask him letting your voice raise.
' I was' aaron says as if it's a normal thing.
' you never ignore me ' you say pouting as if he could see you. ' and you continue to be a brat. ya know spencer and I got the talkin and he said that if someone constantly has the same punishment every time they acted out, it'd become less effective.' he states, making you wonder what in their conversation made them talk about this and why he thought it pertained to you.
because it does.
'and? the fuck does that mean aaron?' you pout feeling the urge to really pass him off now. I mean if he was gonna change up punishments you can change up what your getting punished for.
'watch it' he warns urging you to not play this game. decideding he was beyond wrong and that you'd not only play this game, but win. you hung up the phone, removing your underwear you sat up the camera to where your pussy was on full display. hitting record, you let your fingers travel down your cheest, over your stomach past your clit collecting all of your juices on your fingers. bringing then back up to your clit you make eye contact with your camera as you start to play with your pussy.
moaning at the pleasure, you couldn't deny how good it felt, but you also couldn't deny how much it felt nothing like aaron. bringing your fingers down to your entrance, sliding them in as your eyes roll back and toes curl.
'oh fuck it feels so good' you moan out. you continue to fuck yourself on camera for about five minutes before you realize something. 'fuck I can't cum' you groan out. not knowing why but still wanting to win. so you crop the last bit of the video and send aaron the gold parts.
confused on why it's been five minutes of really good pleasure, and yet you haven't cum yet. you decided to get a toy, recording yourself play with it for a while before groaning and giving up at the same out come.
editing that video and again sending only the good parts you guessed that you must have became camera shy out of nowhere. so you play with your pussy while the camera isn't on. you try everything in the span of 6 hours, reaching for your phone at hour 3 to watch porn because maybe you need a little help.
which lead to realizing aaron once again left you on read.
you genuinely felt as though you could cry now. that's when the realization hits you. you've must of been so hardwired to aaron that it's impossible for you to cum without him now.
feeling angry, not necessarily at aaron, but at the fact that he probably knew you couldn't come without him, that's probably why he was okay with ignoring you.
getting cleaned in the bathroom before going back to the bedroom with a frown on your face, you let out a huff as you plopped on the bed.
☆
waking up the next morning, you check your phone. feeling your heart drop and crawl it's self back in place you read the one message from aaron. sent hours after you went to bed, about 1 a.m., telling you how they had a break in the case and caught the guy in the act. which means he'd be home anytime today.
that'd usually make you ecstatic, but with aarons newfound discovery of ignoring you only God knows what your punishment will be.
☆
you spend the day cleaning the apartment, cooking aaron his favorite meal, even going as far as making brownies. also thinking it was better to clean the whole apartment too just in case.
☆
almost perfectly on time, when you're taking the brownies out, aaron walks through the door. 'hey baby' he greets, walking over to hug you. "at least he's not that mad" you think to yourself. 'hi' you reply shyly, letting your head rest on his chest.
you've missed this, and if kinda makes you feel bad for being a brat. looking around the kitchen, aaron smiles fondly at the food you prepared. then picks you up whole he spins to look at the whole apartment, he knows it's because you didn't expect him home so soon after acting out, but he still loves it.
'enjoy the time you have sugar, cause after we eat your ass is done for' he smiles grabbing a handful of your ass and pecking your lips, before letting you down and making his way to the table.
let let out a groan, but honestly expecting that food and dessert wasn't gonna save you from your punishment.
☆
your weren't that hungry so you finished before aaron. as soon as the last piece was gone from his plate, you shot up to start cleaning the kitchen. 'Ah, that can wait baby' aaron tells you as he gets up from the table and motions for you to follow. 'what? noo, I got it' you answer starting to wash the dishes.
aaron walked behind you, an amused smile on his face. which goes away after he sees that your purposely washing slowly 'the longer you take on the dishes, the more time is added to your punishment' he says, making you drop the fork out of your hands. 'what? that's not fair'. you try to argue only for aaron to turn around and make his way to your shared room.
saying fuck it you decided not to do the dishes and follow him to the room. 'you done?' he asks 'fuck you, yes' you reply. making him laugh while he sat on the edge of the bed.
'get undressed baby' aaron commands you. decideding to choose your battles wisely and not have you outfit ripped apart, knowing aaron is not only good for buying clothes but destroying them, you undressed.
moving over, you sit in the center of the bed like he always tells you. waiting for him to say something you patently wait playing with your fingers.
he gets up from the edge of the bed and turns to you 'had fun without me?' your boyfriend asks you. 'not at all daddy, it was so boring' you answer back. ' so glad your back now' you add smiling up to him.
he lets out a loud laugh at your answer. 'seems to me you had all the fun in the world' aaron says. shacking your head no, while he shakes his head yes 'I know you did baby and it's okay.' he speaks as he makes his way to the chair in your room. 'how many times did you cum?' he ask while getting comfortable.
'don't ask me that daddy' you groan. he chuckles while un doing his tie. 'you don't want to tell me baby?' he questions. Shacking your head no he just smiles at you before speaking 'go ahead nd show me baby'.
confusion feels your body as aaron watches you from across the room. 'what?' you whispered, silently praying that you misheard him.
'baby I want you to play with your pussy while I watch' he admitted as if it was a mundane request. 'show me what you did while I was gone' he told you with a smirk.
shacking your head no, you desperatly thank of anything to get you out of this. 'that's so embarrassing daddy' you tell him as you pout.
your pussy is getting wetter by the second but you didnt know if you'd be able to cum. or even worse if you'd be allowed to.
before you could blink aaron got up and exited the room. you were confused to say the least and once he returned with a lighter that confusion only grew.
that was, until he went into your shared closet.
your jaw hit the floor as you see him walk out with one of your favorite pairs of heels. 'aaron what are yo-' 'shh baby' he cuts you off tossing your heels infront of the bed.
'they're just encouragement' he says as he reclaims his seat, lighter in hand 'but know that you'll be punished one way or another' he says plainly.
letting out a whine 'this isn't fair' you tell him wich in return earns you an eye roll. '10 minutes' he speaks. 'huh?' you question '10 minutes' he repeats.
'10 minutes to cum or you'll have 10 minutes to say goodbye to your shoes. you pick.' he clears up slightly shrugging his shoulders.
expecting your embarrassment you lay back down and prop your knees up. 'is that good?' you ask to which you get no reply. you drag two fingers through your slit and to your entrance. collecting your juices before letting them dip in.
you let out a moan, letting your body relax as you bring your finger out and back in. you cant lie about how good it feels, humiliation and all.
dragging your fingers out you bring them to circle your clit. you look at aaron and notice his intense gaze on your pussy in return you let out a whine and feel your pussy clamp around nothing.
you speed up your fingers and bring your other hand up to grope your breast. surprisingly to you, you can feel your orgasm building up.
adding more pressure to your clit to chase your orgasm it seems to finally click for aaron that your about to cum. to say you could see the disappointed on his face would be an understatement, "ill let her have this tho" , he thought to himself.
your shut your eyes as tight as they could as your feel the coil in your abdomen burst 'oh fuck daddy' you moan out as your orgasm washes through you.
breathing deeply as your legs twitched you finally opened your eyes to see your boyfriend on his phone. 'aaron what the fuck are you doing' you question as you see him typing away.
he barley spears you a glance before going back to typing and saying 'spencer said you wouldn't be able to cum on your own by now'
tag : @jxvipike
a/n☆ this is the 3rd version of this story bc tumblr deleted the other two 😺 not proof read, so mb for any mistakes😻😽 - daisy
#girlblogging#aaron hotchner x reader#black fanfic writer#x black fem reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#bau x reader#aaron hotchner x reader smut#aaron hotchner x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds smut#anon ask#bimbo reader#hottest girl in mourge#brat reader#bd/sm brat
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Birthday Boy*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry doesn't celebrate his birthday but he loves to celebrate you.
Word Count: 2.3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, anal play, brief Daddy kink, breeding kink
“What the fuck am I doing here?”
You grin as you widen the door and motion him inside. “Just shut up and come in.”
“…why?”
“Harry.”
He huffs but does oblige, slipping the hood from his head while glancing around. “I thought you didn’t want me coming over here anymore.”
“I don’t,” you agree. “But this is a special circumstance.”
“Yeah? And why's that?”
You merely smile. “You’ll see. Sit.”
He glances at your sofa before nodding his chin toward the bedroom. “Here or there?”
“Here. You don’t deserve to go in there.”
“Funny.” He slumps down onto the cushions and tosses arms over the back of the couch. “Now what?”
Your hand disappears into your pocket as you approach him from behind. “We’re gonna play a game.”
“A game?”
“A game. I…am gonna blindfold you,” you tell him as you slip his glasses off and hover dark fabric over his head. “And you…are going to guess what I put in your hand.”
You wait a beat before settling it over his eyes, just to make sure he’s all right with your proposition.
And of course, he smirks. “Okay,” he agrees and you fasten the knot. “And what do I get if I guess correctly?"
“A prize.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You walk back around the couch and stand in front of his knees. “And if you guess wrong, then I’ll be claiming the prize for myself. And you can just watch.”
His lips curl up into a wicked grin. “Deal.” He extends his hand. “Let’s go.”
This is where the game gets tricky. In order to give him the object, you have to retrieve it first. Which means stripping down completely.
So, you do. You peel off your shirt and your jeans and your scandalously tiny panties and toss them into a pile on the floor.
And then…you step closer.
You swing your leg over his hip, and then the other, and drop yourself onto his lap. He’s already grinning, likely having guessed that you removed your clothes, and he’s endlessly intrigued.
You take his hands and bring them to your chest. Allowing him to squeeze and grope the warm, sensitive flesh at his disposal as he bites back a larger grin and pretends to think.
“These…” he hums, “these are those beautiful fucking tits I love to suck on so much, aren’t they?”
“Mhm.” You move his hands down your stomach and place them on your waist.
“And these…” He kneads them gently. “These are those perfect hips I love to hold when I fuck into you.”
“Uh-huh.” You slide his large palms down to your thighs.
“Oh, these,” he nearly groans. “These are the fucking thighs I love to have squeezing my head when you sit on my face. When you cum all over my tongue and make a mess of me. A tasty fucking mess.”
You smirk and move him toward your ass now.
And he curses to himself before he’s taking hold of each cheek and tugging—hard. “And this…this is the ass that looks so pretty when it’s all red and tender from taking my punishment, yeah? The one that looks so fucking good in my hand? Bouncing on my cock?”
“Mhm…and one more guess,” you tell him before you take his hands and move them between the cheeks of your ass.
And that’s when he feels it.
You watch him swallow. Watch the way his jaw ticks and his lips part. The way he fights the urge to yank the covering from his eyes and see for himself.
“Tink…”
“Yes, Harry?”
“…is that a butt plug?”
You grin wildly as you move your lips to his ear. “Happy birthday.”
In seconds, he’s ripping off the blindfold and taking a proper look at you. He’s surprised and you feel proud. “How the fuck did you know?”
“What, you think you’re the only one who can hack into Prescott’s computer and read a file?”
He blinks before he’s leaning back and allowing his eyes to travel down the length of your naked body still settled on his lap. “Well…fuck.”
“Yeah.” You laugh. “And what better way to celebrate, right? Go ahead. Admit it. I’m an incredible gift giver.”
For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems…stunned. Eerily quiet and it’s almost unnerving. He holds your body but not in the greedy way he was before. Now he’s…almost reverent. Confused.
“I…I don’t really celebrate my birthday,” he finally admits. “Anymore, I mean. I…you didn’t have to do this.”
Your chest aches but you wave him off. “It’s just anal, calm down. I’m not throwing you a fucking party or anything.”
He exhales a gentle chuckle. “Still, you didn’t…I mean, I didn’t expect anything.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” You both smile. “Because this doesn’t change anything. I still hate you. I just…thought it would be a fun thing to do. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.”
Now he understands and the room suddenly feels so small. You figured he wouldn’t be celebrating his birthday this year. And you’d realized you’d never seen him celebrate before. And then…you figured out why.
Her.
You didn’t want him to go back to his empty apartment and be alone. You didn’t want him to have to pretend like this was just another day or drown himself in the memory of her.
You wanted to distract him. Give him a reason to enjoy himself. Celebrate his birth. Even if it was with you.
He sighs now as he pulls you closer. Squeezing your ass again before kissing the space between your breasts. “Well…other than the fact that you disobeyed me, this is really thoughtful.”
“I’m sorry…what?”
He nods once and you recognize that sadistic gleam in his eye. “How did you get this pretty little plug in, hm?”
Oh. “I…I put it in.”
“Uh-huh. How?”
“How do you think?”
He spanks you. Firm. The sound is sharp and it echoes through your apartment as you jolt. “Don’t be fucking smart, Princess. When I ask you a question…you answer it. Is that understood?”
You bite your lip. “I touched myself and then I put it in.”
“Mm.” He kisses over your nipple and up to your shoulder. “And do you realize how that was disobeying me?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “In all fairness, it would have ruined the surprise if I fucking told you.”
He spanks you again. Harder this time. Painful. And your insides are on fire in the best possible way. “No. You won’t speak to me like that today. Will you?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Good girl. What are you gonna do instead?”
“…I’m gonna give you your prize.”
He grins. “That’s fucking right. Turn around.”
You do. You stand from his lap and allow him to pull you apart until he can get a glimpse of the pretty toy inside.
And you can’t help but feel pleased with the way he exhales a tortured groan at the sight. “Fucking shit, Tinkerbell. Look at you…s’all for me, huh?”
You nod, even if he can’t really see you. “Yes.”
“Just wanted to be good to me, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Wanted me to have a perfect present?”
You nod again and fight a shiver when you feel him run his finger over the tip. “Want you to have whatever you want.”
He makes another noise. “And you’re sure you could take it, baby? Sure you wouldn’t mind me playing with such a pretty little hole?”
“Please,” you breathe. “I can take it. I promise. Want to.”
He squeezes your hips. “And do you think you deserve it after disobeying me?”
“Yes…yes, please…please.”
“Hm. Maybe you do,” he admits. “Just this once. After being so sweet to me. Bet it’s killed you to have to be so nice, huh?”
You smile. “Kind of. You are the fucking worst.”
Another spank and you both make a desperate sound this time. He likes to watch the way your skin ripples beneath his hand. The way it reddens, the way it grows warm to the touch. And maybe you like it, too.
“We’ll start slow, yeah?” he says and gently begins to ease the toy out. “Just gonna give you my finger for now. Maybe next time we can do more—”
“Harry—”
His palm meets your ass again and you jump. “Tink, don’t argue with me. M’not gonna hurt you on my birthday. S’not fair very to me.”
Your eyes roll but you’re grinning. “Yeah, okay. But any other day you don’t mind?”
“Exactly.”
“Mm.” You sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Harry?”
“Yeah, Princess?”
“…are we okay?”
The sneaky touches stop as he turns you a bit so he can see you clearly. “What? Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I mean…this doesn’t cross a line or anything?”
Instantly, he removes his hands from your body. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, not that,” you correct quickly. “I mean…I mean me inviting you here and doing all this for your birthday. I just…I know we have a rule about not getting too personal and this kind of breaks it, but—”
“Tink.” He holds you again but only to capture your attention and bring you to a stop. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because when I call, you come running?”
He smirks and smacks your thigh. “No. I’m here because I want to be here. We make our own rules. We decide what we’re comfortable with. Yeah, it’s a little more personal than it was before but that’s okay. Because I couldn’t very well fuck your ass in the office, now, could I?”
You laugh.
“We’re okay,” he assures you. “More than okay. Nothing is gonna change how much I hate you. I promise.”
And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.
So, you turn back around and allow his large hands to run up and down your body in appreciation. He soaks in every inch of your skin. Every curve and mark and scar. He truly holds you like a prize and when he finally kicks your feet apart and slips his finger up your cunt and toward your ass…you’re gone.
“Breathe,” he instructs, and you do. “And tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will.”
With this assurance, he eases the tip of his finger in your tighter hole and it’s oddly more satisfying than you expected. Sure, the plug had somewhat prepared you but this…
“Shit,” you whisper and he stills.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s…I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s…it’s really good.”
You can’t see him but you can picture his smile. “Good. Keep breathing, yeah? And try to relax for me, baby. S’gonna hurt if you don’t.”
You exhale slowly and allow your muscles to unwind. Giving him room to push in a bit further while his other hand strokes your hip.
“Doing so good, Tink,” he says. “God, you really would take my cock, wouldn’t you? Look so fucking pretty, all stretched out and needy.”
The image and lewd way he speaks nearly makes your knees give out, but he keeps you upright.
“Bet it’d look so sweet…dripping with my cum,” he murmurs as he pumps his finger a bit faster. “Bet you’d let me cum anywhere I wanted, wouldn’t you? Let me fill this cute little belly with all my kids—”
“Shit,” you say again and he hums.
“You think about it, don’t you? Think about the way it’d feel. The way your body would look…holding me inside—"
“God…fuck, Harry—”
“S’what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Wanna see your pretty tits get fuller, see your tummy filled with my babies—”
Your chin drops to your chest and you’re moments from slipping away. “Ha…Harry—”
“I know.” He’s fucking into you faster now, and even though it’s only one finger, it feels like ecstasy. A fullness you never imagined. “I know, baby. Maybe for my next birthday, yeah? Get you pregnant then.”
The reemergence of the breeding kink isn’t one you anticipated and yet, it leaves you enthralled. Even if you know you’ll likely never act on it.
But just when you’re beginning to settle into it, he’s suddenly retracting his hand and spinning you back around. You’re tugged onto the sofa, back first, without a moment of reprieve before he’s slotting himself between your thighs. And this time when his fingers find you…there’s four.
Two in your pussy…and two in your ass.
You arch from the couch and he’s relentless. Swallowing your gasps with greedy kisses and letting the sounds of your arousal echo through the room like an orchestra.
It’s beautiful and he’s beautiful. Even without his glasses, he’s the aggravatingly attractive man you’ve come to tolerate. And he’s so incredibly good at fucking into you like this. Abusing you and treating you all with the same hand.
And when you cum, you cum twice as hard.
This is his real present. This look on your face. The feel of your body clenching around him and he enjoys every fucking second of it.
He lets you throw an arm around his shoulders and tug him into your embrace. He lets you hold him and indulge in him and keep him in you for as long as possible.
“Shit,” you say for a third time and he laughs into your neck.
“Anal’s fun, right?”
“Fuck. Yeah. Maybe you were right.”
“I’m always right.”
“…wrong.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t gonna argue with me on my birthday, are you? Cause me and my cock will go right home and leave you here, wet and desperate.”
Your nose scrunches but you laugh and lightly push him away. “God, you’re annoying. I forgot for a second with that post-orgasm bliss but thank god you’re consistent.”
He grins. Smug. “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”
“Yeah…no.”
“Tink.”
“Daddy.”
The sadistic gleam returns. “Don’t test me, baby. I might have been nice, but I can think of plenty of other ways to have fun that won’t exactly be fun for you.”
And you want to test him, you do.
But today is his day. So you decide that you might as well let him win…just this once.
“Fine,” you concede before offering him your most innocent pout. “Please, Daddy…will you fuck my ass?”
And the look on his face…makes it absolutely worth it.
“Turn around.”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!! Thanks for always being so kind and such a beacon of hope and light for so many!!! 💞💞💞💞
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Panties
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶
Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!
Word count: 2.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010
Panties
“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment.
You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”
“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”
You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through.
“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air.
You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.
“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.
Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”
You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”
“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent.
“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.
“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.
Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”
“Say it again,” you grin up at him.
“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips.
“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”
“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.
“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.
“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.
“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”
“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up.
“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.
“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”
You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.
Ohh.
“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times.
You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt.
“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”
“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”
“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”
“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you.
When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”
“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you.
You pout up at him, “But…”
“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans, “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”
“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”
“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.
“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”
“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier.
You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”
He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more.
“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”
With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now.
“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath.
The bed starts shaking. You start trembling.
You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties.
“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”
“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”
You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body.
“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again.
“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”
“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips.
“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”
If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.
“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly.
“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”
“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”
And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face.
“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”
It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out.
You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.
“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.
“Yes, sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”
“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”
“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear.
Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit.
A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you.
“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.
“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm.
“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”
You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”
“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss.
“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically.
Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”
“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers.
.
.
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#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#my writing#the last of us#joel x you#dbf!joel
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“Oh, let there be hotel complaints” | Chan x you
warnings: nsfw, D/s dynamics, face and pussy slapping, overstimulation, mention of safewords, Daddy kink.
This is just Chan brain rot and my mind gently suggested me the image of first time inexperienced Dom Chan who wants to try some BDSM but he’s too scared to hurt you so he decides he’a going to try on himself all that he’s gonna do to you…
Title from Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier
Chan has had plenty of vanilla sex, but then you introduced him to BDSM, and especially the concepts of Doms and Subs, and something switched in him. He started reading online forums and blogs. And when the topic arose again, he clearly told you he’s interested, but he won’t do it yet. Because the thing is: despite how hard even just reading stuff about it makes him, he has no experience, and he won’t risk hurting you.
So, he does what any good Dom should do in his eyes, he tries things on himself.
One day you turn home to find his face red and a bit swollen, but when you ask about it, he just distracts you with filthy kisses. What you don’t know is that he slapped and slapped and slapped himself until he deemed he had found the right strength to use.
Another day he disappears for the whole afternoon and, when you see him in the living room, he looks flushed and a little exhausted, but giddy. Just like Changbin when he maxes out at the gym and he’s incredibly tired but proud of himself. What you don’t know is that he spent the afternoon edging himself with a vibrator on his shaft and his tip and, after hours of denying himself, he came and proceeded to overstimulate himself, because it’s only logical to pair up the two experiences, right?
What you noticed though, is that there’s a change in him. He’s more assertive with you on some days, makes sure you eat and doesn’t let you go to sleep if you haven’t removed your makeup. Pushes you to sleep more when he knows you have had a bad day at work, and every time you comply and thank him for taking care of you, he kisses a little filthier, holds you a little firmer.
It’s months later when he asks if you can try something kinkier. You’re excited and happy and you start to mentally prepare yourself to be a good teacher without forgetting this is about pleasure. But then Chan shows you exactly how deep the still water runs deep.
“You’re gonna sit there” he says and he’s so commanding yet sexy you melt instantly. “And we’re gonna have a quick talk. Nothing too extreme is going to happen today, but I need to establish some rules”. You nod in response, and he looks at you with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna use your pretty words, baby girl.” That’s it. Not a suggestion, not an option, a rule. Fuck, you knew he would be good at this.
“I understand.”
He’s quick with the rules: you must verbally answer, you’re gonna use the traffic light system for now, you must use the safe word if you need to, and the moment you think something’s wrong he’s gonna stop. You also must ask for what you want, not just take it.
Not too long later you’re on the bed, shirt previously discarded and clad only in your panties. And Chan is completely dressed, hovering over you. He’s been kissing you deeply and touching you just enough to make you want so much more. You’re embarrassingly wet and you’re sure you’ll have to throw away your panties. He’s holding your crossed arms at the wrists and, in doing so, he’s holding you down. You try to buck and raise your ass to relieve some of the dull aching you’re feeling in your core. “C’mon Channie, touch me.”
“But I am touching you…” he replies with a smirk on his lips. His free hand caresses your face, and he tests the gives of your lower lip with his thumb. When you suck on it, though, he takes it away and shakes his head. “What did I say?” You are lost, what happened? Did he say something?
“You’re just a cockhungry whore, uh? You can’t even wait for me to give you something, you’re so greedy you just want to take and take.”
Oh.
The realization in your face makes Chan smile. “There it is… tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on you.”
“I didn’t ask to suck your thumb-” he knows there’s something you want to add, he knows about your Daddy kink. And it turns him so fucking on, but he’s not gonna press about it. He considers your words and considers just letting it slide, but there’s flames licking at his insides.
“Too bad you didn’t ask, uh?”
Sudden, sharp pain irradiates on your left cheek and it’s less the pain and more the surprise that makes you gasp and, less than a second later, moan. Chan wants to apologize, years of conditioning making him feel guilty and mean and abusive, but he can’t deny what he feels.
He grabs your face, fingers splayed where he slapped mere seconds ago, wet thumb digging into the opposite cheek and kisses you messy and filthy, sucking your tongue in his mouth. Chan removes the last piece of clothing you have on and sits on his knees, with his thighs slightly spread apart. He holds your legs open with firm hands, one on your calf and the other clamped around your knee. He’s just… staring at your pussy. You try to squirm away and close your legs, but his eyes are suddenly on you. There’s a warning in his face that accompanies a displeased sound. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry” you blurt out trying to repair something before you do too much damage. You can feel wetness dripping down your folds, and Chan can too. “You’re so wet. Fuck, you love being on display for me…” He has never felt this. There’s a power rush, a shiver starting from his spine and moving towards opposite endings: towards his brain, making him lose words and making him want to act up, want to deliciously destroy you, making a mess of you and then put you back together; and on the other ending, traveling south towards his cock and balls. He’s been ready to cum the moment he sat you down and you agreed to do this.
“Love, are you just going to stare at me?” You ask when you grow too impatient to keep sitting still, a bit embarrassed too by his too focused staring. He shakes his head, and there is a quiet chuckle that can be heard in the room. His lips raise in a slow smirk, like he’s just been made aware of a secret, and you didn’t. And maybe he did.
Chan made plans for tonight. Plural. You told him you like not knowing everything in advance, so he planned different plans based on your responses to his actions. It was harder than organizing recording sessions. But since he saw your reactions earlier, he decides to stick to a precise plan. So, he acts in it.
Quickly and hard he delivers a slap on your inner thigh, the pain is a delicious sensation, hot and cold at the same time. A moment later the skin reddens to show Chan’s handprint and if possible, his cock gets ever harder. It twitches a little from where it’s hidden, head flushed and red, slowly but constantly leaking precum, forming a wet stain on his slacks .
“Fuck Chan!” You cry to his direction, eyes closed shut and brows knit in pleasure. You can feel heat where he hit you, and you want to press your fingers into it, wanting to feel the warmth and the pain and the pleasure. The moment you are ready to ask him for something, he delivers another slap in the same place. This time, though, Chan doesn’t let you breathe it out, doesn’t let you take your time to recover from it, no. He rakes his nails on your hot skin, watches as the skin quickly goes from red to white and to an even redder red where he scratched you. Digs his digits into your skin and revels in your gasps, feeling hot and ready to lose control, if a wind would blow in the room, he would cum in an instant. He’s ready for your next moan, your next gasp, but you’re quiet and your legs are trembling, and he’s scared he’s gone too far. He’s on the verge of apologizing, carrying you to the bathroom for a warm bath and cuddles and more apologies when he realizes he read you wrong. He didn’t give you too much, he gave you exactly what you needed, because -unbelievably so, for him- you’re coming. Clit untouched and your sopping hole twitching and throbbing around nothing, but you’re clearly coming. This is a different one, though. You’ve never been quiet while having an orgasm, but watching you with more attention calms him down, you look fine. He kisses you from your thigh to your cheekbone, stopping to nibble at your nipples, tongue lapping at your skin and sucking quick marks on you. “My pretty slut” a kiss on the nose, “you’re so greedy” a kiss on the right cheek, “your little pussy came untouched” a kiss on the forehead, “now I must give it some attention” a kiss on your chin. “Tell me your color?” He adds, tone sweeter and a hand caressing your face like you’re made of the finest glass.
“Green”. A smile appears on his face and he manhandles you to straddle his slacks covered thigh. Your wetness is seeping through the fabric, you squirm and he can see you’re embarrassed. “I told you I was gonna give it some attention. I want my baby girl to feel good.” He grabs you by your hips and forces you to move and grind your pussy on the fabric of his slacks. One of his hands sneaks into your hair and he pulls, stopping you from hiding into his neck. “No hiding. And stop hiding all your pretty sounds from me.”
The pleasure mixed with the overstimulation are overwhelming, and Chan’s new role is playing a big role in the moment and your arousal. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises in your skin, and you can’t wait to stand in front of a mirror to see them. Chan hands guide you back and forth and soon you’re clenching around nothing, “m’close Channie”, too desperate to control your movements.
“It’s okay, my baby. Just ask for it.” His hard cock is begging to be touched, still in the confines of his underwear and trousers. Yet, he has never been this hard and close to coming untouched. Your moans, the redness on your cheeks, the sweat matting your hair to your forehead and your incessant moans and cries of pleasure are making him lose his mind.
“Please Channie, can I cum?” You pant. “Let me cum, Daddy.” The last word is whispered, muffled into his shoulder but he hears it anyway. And he understands why you like it, the name giving him power, giving him a specific role, giving him the chance to give you exactly what you need.
“Then cum for Daddy.”
He watches you as cum, hands guiding your movements and his muscles flexing to give you as much pleasure as he can. He loves you like this, unabashed and free, vulnerable just for him.
But having you moaning and screaming his name is not enough. He doesn’t stop when you try to take a moment to collect yourself, he fixes his hold on your hips and forces your movements again. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again and it doesn’t matter how loud you whine, it doesn't matter your overstimulation, what matters now is making you cum another time. Anytime he pushes you towards him, he also pushes you down, setting an unforgiving pace that is torture on your sensitive clit. He’s relentless, but after just a few minutes you’re both rewarded with your legs clamping down on his thigh as you cum again. Unbelievably so, watching your second orgasm triggers his own orgasm and he moans your name loudly. He kisses you, messy and hungry, lips demanding and tongue insistent, claiming even your breath.
You’re gripping his shirt so hard, your fingers hurt. He delicately lays you down onto the bed and kisses you softly. As soon as his breathing comes back to normal, his worries come back too.
“Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? What do yo-“ you interrupt him with silly, quick kisses, trying to diminish his worries.
“I am more than okay.” A kiss. “I feel perfect.” A kiss. “You were perfect.” A kiss. “You’re always perfect, love.” A kiss. “I love you.” A kiss.
You kiss some more and he insists on showering together so he can take care of you and make sure you drink water and eat some fruit and chocolate. He tells you all about trying on himself what he did to you, and you’ve never loved him more.
#bluejutdae#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan smut#chan smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#Thiana writes Chan
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Nanami baby fever 👁👁?
The user is female and has a kid already, but he likes, Why not other kids? What could be so wrong with that since user kidcis such a sweetheart?
⦑ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⦒ ✧.*
NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER synopsis: you've been busy, so Nanami organises you a day off to help you relieve some pent up stress. content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, reader is a mom, daddy kink, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, fingerbashing, cervix penetration, mating press, overstimulation, nipple play, praise, pet name (princess). a/n: thank you for requesting dear anon!! i love writing aggressive + soft nanami sm, hope you'll enjoy this! « 1.8 k words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »
You’re trying to take a relaxing afternoon nap. Nanami Kento doesn’t. His hand is running down your body as you lay, exploring and squeezing you in ways that are less than chaste in your eyes.
“Kento, w-what are you doing?” He moves closer, his front flushing against your back, and you feel the hardness of his chest muscles untense in your warmth.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.” Nanami draws out a whisper into your ear that resembles a low grunt. Something is nudging you on your thighs, and he uses this opportunity to round his arms around your body, reaching your breasts. They pert at his touch, and you let out a soft sound of relaxation. The firm pads of his fingers press against the plush, before coming together to roll them lazily against your nipple.
“Wh-Where’s all this coming from?” You whisper back even though there’s no one else in the house but you two. Nothing to hide. No reason to hold yourself back. But yet you do, especially when it comes to Nanami, he strips every remains of composure off your body. His other hand comes down to your belly, smoothing over with a gentle pressing grip until his fingertips crawl right above your underwear.
“I haven’t tasted you in so long. Since all the volunteering, the parent teacher interviews. I’m done waiting. Take these off.” Nanami hooks at your panties, pull on them and let it snap back against you.
“Oh, is that why you took my daughter to daycare? Is that what this is?”
“And? I have ulterior motives, so what.” Nanami knows what he wants, and he sure isn’t embarrassed by it. And right now, he wants nothing more than to feel himself inside of you. His fingers pick on your underwear once more, signalling you to lift your hips so he can pull them down to your ankles. “I can’t fucking wait anymore.” Nanami smirks, running two fingers up the length of your cunt that earns you a shiver. “Neither can you, it seems.”
You help him take off his glasses so you can see him clearer. When you do, his lustful eyes are still fixated on your body. Admiring the beauty you are in his life, speaking millions of promises to make you happy in the bedroom and beyond the bedroom with his gaze alone. That sincerity somehow makes your clit jump, but Nanami isn’t done preparing you yet.
He runs a few lazy circles along your clit, then getting impatient, places a finger inside of you, exploring the depths of you that clenches hard in attempts to fill the gap. He revels in the fact he’s making your back arch and heart race without even trying. Imagine how you will react when he does try.
Nanami’s cock is getting impatient too, his dick cramped inside his boxers begging to see your lewd face too. With the other hand that’s not occupying you, Nanami takes off the button of his pants, unzipping it to let his dick spring free onto his blue dress shirt. His other hand is not slacking either, fingerbashing into you relentlessly to let the slick of your desire permeate the air. Your cunt is drenching his finger, sucking him in, like you are desperately trying to make Nanami’s finger come.
“Fuckin’ hell, princess… Save some for me…” He cusses, removing his fingers inside you, and you let out of groan of refusal.
Your hole wants him, wants him to fill the void inside of you. Nanami rolls over on top of you, lifting both of your legs up to put over the shoulders of his shirt, now crumpled from all the action. He takes in the sight first, letting out a whistle of delight with a devillish glint in his eyes—one that he reserves only for you to see—before he lines up against you.
You feel his tip inside of you first, pussy already grasping at whatever he can give you. Your attempts at lifting and dropping your hips in desperation for more friction leaves you unsatisfied. That is when Nanami smiles, knows, and stops the teasing to indulge in your desires.
He ruts in you, difficult at first, but your body accomodates to his size soon enough.
“God… Just because I haven’t fucked your brains out in two weeks, you’re getting tighter… So you like it when daddy’s dick is too big for you?” Somehow when Nanami refers to himself as daddy, it makes your body react, pulling back your legs closer to your body for him to fuck you deeper. And he obeys, your walls wrapping tightly around him as he fucks you closer to your cervix.
“Fuck, nnh, that's it princess. Takin' me so well. You really want daddy to force himself into your tiny fucking hole and plant his seed inside of you?” Nanami's arms presses your legs down even further now, your knees almost touching shoulders, and you are pleasantly surprised to find how flexible you can be with some dick as your motivation.
“I'm going to make you into a real daddy, Kento.” Between his deep thrusts, the words slip from the back of your throat. Perhaps it's from the adrenaline of the moment. Perhaps that's how you genuinely felt. You don't know yet.
“Ohh, princess, don't make promises you can't keep.” Nanami is grinning and isn't against the idea. “But if you ever get knocked up, I'll love you, cherish you, make you the happiest mama ever.”
“Fuck...” You groan, a buzzing sensation shakes violently in your belly. Hands weakening, breath erratic, you're so close to the edge and you have to keep going.
“Hmm, does that mean you want me to cum inside?”
You ignore him, not giving Nanami the satisfaction of you saying yes, instead focusing on your belly at the knot of pleasure.
“Come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now. You don't want me to stop now, do you?” Nanami slows his thrusts, too slow for your orgasm to reach anywhere.
“Don't stop. Please.” You meet Nanami's eyes, still playful. Still waiting for your answer. “Fine... I want you to cum inside.”
“Such an honest girl. Such a good girl for me.” And this is when he takes your breath away, plunging deep into you with newfound speed and eagerness. His dick is bumping into your cervix now, over and over and over again, until all that escapes your lips are filthy cries of your orgasm and gasping breaths of his name.
But Nanami isn't stopping yet. He's almost there, so close. Your overstimulated fluids that coat around his dick is the world's best lubricant to fuck you in till you can't walk. Then, his orgasm washes over him too, thick white ropes of his come spilling uncontrollably inside you with intention to make you his forever.
Nanami sighs, now heaving frantic breaths through the air as you both lie back onto your bed. You roll around, helping Nanami out of his sweat stained shirt that's probably a little too uncomfortable after their activity.
“Did you mean everything you said just now?”
“That I love you and want a kid with you? Of course.”
“It's a lot of work you know. Having kids. You sure you're ready for that?”
“With you, I'm ready for anything.” He brings himself forward to land a chaste kiss on your lips. His hand comes down to your belly to give it a gentle rub. “You already have experience with kids. How hard could this be?”
“Oh, you'd be very surprised.”
“Then I better start learning now.”
thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @kennedyswhore @emilzke @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#jjk#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk season 2#jujutsu nanami#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk nanami#nanami#꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱
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Gym Rat Miguel Part 15
content warning: more angst, mentions of food, mentions of underage drinking and recreational drug use, some suggestive convos but nothing too crazy
word count: 6.4k (@slushycoookie thee wife, thee beta 🩵)
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
“Does it show anything different?”
“Will you give me a second?”
GymRat!Miguel who was currently sitting at his desk, bouncing his leg while he waited for Tempest to tell him something good.
“It’s honestly looking like the same thing from last night. And the week before. And the week before that,” she deadpans through the phone.
Miguel turned and pressed his lips to his palm.
His call list was a constant cycle between his friends back home and Gabriel, but mostly Tempest, who has taken the role of checking for any updates from you online.
So far, all he’s gotten out of this was pain. You’ve completely removed anything that involved him from your pages. No anniversary pics, no highlights, no emojis in your bio to refer to him. From how Tempest put it, this was a huge deal.
“Look,” Miguel slumped as he geared himself up to listen to the same speech she’d been repeating. “I know you don’t want to hear this- don’t make that face! - but I think it’s time to give up or try something new.”
“It’s been forever.”
“If your definition of forever is a little over two weeks, then sure!”
“I just thought that,” he paused, mulling over the words in his head.
“That she would bend at your will? You’re cute, but not that cute.”
“No, that’s not- Temp,” Miguel whined. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
She snorted, “Uh huh. Which is why we’re stalking her page like weirdos.”
“If the roles were flipped, I would be doing the same for you. I have done the same for you.”
“Touché.”
Miguel remembered Tempest spiraling over girls she thought was the one, the two of them huddled up over the phone watching as they all moved onto the next.
He sat beside her and reminded himself never to get this way. He perked up like a flower soaking up the sun every time there was an inch of hope, which truly rivaled how Tempest acted.
“I was just thinking that today would be different. Maybe she would think about me today.”
The thought sits in the air, Tempest’s face shifting to one of sad understanding.
“Not trying to feed your delusions, but maybe she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”
Miguel looked at the screen, a tiny bit optimistic.
“But in all fairness, I wouldn’t want anyone on my page who I thought committed one of the most cruel offenses. I would want to forget everything. You have to see this from her side too.”
Tempest was right, a common state when it came to their friendship. It didn’t stop that ugly rust of selfishness that crowded his heart.
He feels like he’s crying out for you, and you don’t care. A year of being together meant nothing to you.
Saying that out loud was insane, though. It didn’t align with how hurt you looked.
So, he’s been internally fighting the feeling, going from understanding to upset and back again.
“Have you talked to Xina at all?”
“She’s only keeping our conversations about school. And acting like nothing happened.”
“She’s probably embarrassed,” Tempest said. “She got caught this time and doesn’t know what to do.”
“Apologizing could be a start.”
“And that requires admitting she was wrong in the first place, so if you get that, let me know so I can mark the day. I’ll even make a t-shirt.”
The sigh that left Miguel was strong enough to irritate Tempest’s speakers.
He wanted to talk to her about the situation again, but it was like talking with a brick wall. It reminded him of when he snapped at her for constantly hitting him when they were younger. Looking back, they were just kids, and she probably didn’t mean anything by it. The red tint and angry pout on her face as she slid him her chocolate milk as an apology stuck with him.
“Why do you want an apology anyway? Or, why do you expect one?”
Miguel wasn’t sure himself. Xina was his childhood best friend, someone with whom he spent a lot of time and shared secrets. There were sweet memories and joyful moments.
It sucks to see her act so different.
“I think,” Miguel paused, looking off through his dorm window. “I think that-”
“Oh my god, she just posted.”
Miguel almost dropped his phone while he switched back to the messages app.
“What is it? What is it?”
“It is,” she dragged out her i’s. The sound of Tempest screenshotting and tapping away at her phone was like rapid fire. “An event, I think?”
“What event? You aren’t sending the pictures fast enough.”
“I already pressed send! Not my fault I don’t have high-speed internet.”
“Tell your cousin to stop fucking hogging it.”
“Shut up and watch the screen.”
His eyes dart across the screen as he waits for the screenshare to load.
Your account comes up, still intact. Miguel takes in everything like he did back when he first met you.
There were new posts about the sculptures you made in class and food from a new café. There’s also a glimpse of you smiling, and he feels like he’s ready to erupt.
Tempest refreshed your page again.
“This is so against girl code.”
“You haven’t even talked with her before.”
“How would you know?”
“Temp.”
“Right, sorry.”
She taps your story, and a flyer comes up.
“A Halloween-themed festival night?” Miguel says as the story disappears.
“Sounds fun!”
“I’m going to go. Put the story back up again.”
Tempest side-eyed him as best as she could, “Uh, maybe let’s not.”
“Why can’t I? I’m a member of the student body.”
“Do you usually go to these things?”
“No,” Miguel slowed his words. “But I could now? Maybe she won’t even be there.”
“And if she is? Wouldn’t it seem like you’re stalking her?”
He thinks about the many times he’s lingered around the art building, walked by your favorite spot on campus, and stared at corners of the library that you loved to see if you would be there.
“No?”
“Doubtful.”
“I just need to see her in person.”
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t stop thinking about whether or not you’ll be at the festival.
If he doesn’t see you, he’ll be disappointed, but the panic clawing at his throat won’t shift to his mind.
If he does see you, he’ll be like a fish out of water. Floundering, lost, and begging his lungs to gain its necessities.
He just hopes that going is the right decision.
GymRat!Miguel who goes to his robotics club meetup the next day.
There’s no competition coming up, but the department wanted to revise a moving metal skeleton for Halloween weekend.
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks, Margo. I feel like it, too.”
She pulled his cheek out and made baby noises out of sympathy before Miguel swatted them away.
“Still no luck with your ex? Or is that joint giving you trouble?” she snickered at his sloppy attempt at connecting moving parts.
“Uh, no and yes.”
Aaron peeked up from his station and looked over like a beaver.
“I-it’s not because of what I said, right?”
Margo made a line with her mouth as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.
“No, Aaron,” Miguel mumbled.
“Yeah, Aaron, stop being nosy and get back to work,” Margo joked.
He snapped his welder’s mask back down like a dork and returned to sawing something, sparks flying past him.
Margo looks down at Miguel’s work.
“Well, I hope you can get her back soon because you need to work on your anatomy. Those bones don’t go together at all.”
He looks to a femur and a humerus connected with the sheer will of his clouded mind.
He missed when you attached sticky notes to his body for practice. The prize for getting the different parts of his body correct being kisses. You would laugh at his mistake but give a peck on the lips anyway. His arms were one of your favorite places to put your star-shaped stickers on, too.
“I didn’t mean for you to get even sadder,” Margo snapped him out of the memory.
“It’s fine. My fault.”
Margo shifted her weight as she started to take apart his mistake, “It’ll get better, Miguel. I’m sure of it.”
GymRat!Miguel who sits across from Tyler at one of the uppity restaurants in town. The lights are dim, as if the people eating here are all hiding from something.
“How’s school?” Tyler asked, clothes still managing to glow despite the one warm lamp above the table. He thanks the waitress for refilling his water glass. “Made any new friends? Connections?”
The age-old awkward feeling of trying to concisely describe his growing adult life was at the top of his mind.
“It’s going well,” was always the easiest answer. Simple and open-ended.
Of course, Tyler took this as a sign to delve further.
“Your mother told me you’re taking up game programming this semester. Do you like the feel of that class?”
An ice cube floated to the top of Miguel’s glass.
“I was enjoying it at first, now I’m sort of ready for it to end.”
Tyler cleared his throat, hand covering the frown on his face.
“Ah, well, some people just like the end result, I suppose,” he refolds a napkin, the reflection from his watch panning across the tablecloth. “What about your girlfriend? How is she? Perhaps, you have some new pieces of her’s to show me. My colleagues love the one in the entryway.”
The waiter placed a filet mignon in front of Miguel and bluefin tuna across from him. Tyler moved to tuck the same napkin into his crisp button down.
“I’m not sure.”
Tyler pauses as a slice of fish dangles from his fork.
Miguel is still cutting into the meat unnecessarily, knife scrapping against the plate.
“Son, this cut of meat is like butter,” Tyler said, taking the knife from him and putting it back on its napkin.
A twitch at the corner of his lips almost aligned with Tyler’s. The man racked his brain for the memories of his first son coming home with a similar expression.
He chewed and swallowed his fish stacked with cucumbers and cilantro.
“As you know, I am not the best when it comes to relationships. Nancy and I have had quite the uphill battle. However, I believe I am well-versed in the field of compromise. Should I reach out to her for you?”
It was a long shot, and by the growing shadows on his son’s face, Tyler suspected that his suggestion was a poor one.
“What will that do? Other than show her that I can’t handle my own problems.”
“Surely, you two can work it out. She was lovely, truly,” Tyler frets, afraid he’s made Miguel even more upset.
He just starts to eat, mind elsewhere.
Tyler wondered if he should have ordered some wine.
“When you found out Nancy cheated on you, what did you do?”
Lemon juice from his dish hit his throat right as he swallowed, a hand banging on his chest as he coughed.
“I, uh,” two gulps of water were taken from the glass Miguel handed him. “Well. The fruit of that labor is in front of me.”
“Obviously,” Miguel’s shoulders dropped and Tyler grimaced again. Curse his silly statements. “I meant, how did you feel? What were your initial thoughts?”
“I remember being angry. Here laid the mother of my only child with a much younger and, honestly, less fortunate man. I thought I was foolish to think that my genuine love or money could keep someone.”
Miguel pushed around an asparagus on his plate, “So there was a betrayal. A pain you couldn’t describe.”
“Exactly. For me, that came afterwards. I’m a prideful man. If one thing does not satisfy me, I simply find something that does.”
“And that thing just happened to be my mother?”
“Ah, if you put it like that, it’s far too harsh,” Tyler fixes a cuff. “Your mother provided me a place of warmth, solitude, and love for a short time. It’s something I’ll never forget. I regret the hurt Nancy and I inflicted on each other, but I don’t regret you.”
Tyler watches and waits for a response. His son shifts in his seat and rolls his neck, eyes never leaving his plate.
“Has she,” Tyler tilts his head, “hurt you this way?”
“No, but I broke her trust.”
“You cheated?”
“Never. But we have a lot to work on.”
Tyler might order some bourbon tonight to drink in place of his son and the mopey demeanor.
“I’m all ears whenever you need me. But if there is as much love between you two as I saw earlier this year, then you’re sure to gain in back. That doesn’t go away.”
Miguel takes a deep breath and Tyler believes that some of the shadows on his face disappear.
The meal continued, and the people around them continued their quiet chatter.
“Could you do me a favor?” Miguel asks as they both clean their plates.
Tyler lights up, “Anything.”
“Don’t tell my mom about this?”
Tyler thinks back to the unpleasant things Conchata had to say about her son’s girlfriend and quietly agrees that it’s for the best of she’s out of the loop.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
GymRat!Miguel who walks up to the festival wearing one of the shirts you gave him for his birthday.
It was an impulsive decision because now that he’s here, he’s wondering if seeing it on him will upset you.
The festival is partially outside and inside, a mix of games, concessions, and small rides for students to enjoy.
He walked under the pumpkin and bat-shaped balloons, and fake smoke from a cauldron moved past him.
It smelled like sour candy apples, and marshmallows. Booths were all around the campus grass. He walked past them slowly, not interested but searching for something.
The turnout was nice for a night when he figured people would be out partying. There were a lot of students walking in and out.
A game caught his eye as he neared the entrance to the student center. It’s a Shoot Out booth with the ducks replaced with black cats and the gun switched to tiny ghost bean bags to match the theme. There’s a giant white bunny with an X for lips, a blue dress, and a bow on its ear.
It’s so you that he couldn’t resist.
The student volunteer told him he had three chances this round to knock out twenty cats for the bunny.
“Everyone’s been gunning for it, but this game is pretty hard!”
Miguel nodded in understanding.
If he focused enough, the bunny could be his.
On his first try, he knocked out thirteen cats, much to the volunteer’s surprise.
“Woah! You’re pretty good! Did you wanna grab anything from this tier?”
There was student association merch and a shirt with the college logo.
Miguel rolled his sleeves up, “No, I’m going to try for the plushie again.”
The second time, he knocked down the last cat with just a few seconds left on the timer.
The girl running the booth smiled with her eyebrows nearly merging to the top of her head in shock.
“I-I guess that means you win the bunny!”
She handed it to him with a lull of awe.
He muttered a quiet thanks and turned towards the doors with fake spiderwebs dangling off them.
There was music, a sign to go to a haunted hallway, and even more tables with food.
He wonders if you would have gotten scared walking through scary attractions with him. You would probably hold his hand as tight as he’s holding the belly of this rabbit.
Scanning the room, he doesn’t catch a glimpse of you anywhere.
Looking down at the little white face in his hands, he started to think he wasted the hour or so he’d been here.
Walking to the table of free cookies, he took a frosted Frankenstein in his hand and bit a bolt off.
He felt like a lost kid as he floated from table to table to stall.
Maybe he should give up. You were probably promoting this event for Jess.
GymRat!Miguel who was finishing off his fifth mummy-in-a-blanket when he saw you leaving the haunted hallway.
The first thing he noticed is the long, blue cardigan falling off your shoulders. The end of it is trailing after you as you run out.
There’s a grin on your face and an air in your steps, something he missed seeing.
The next thing he noticed was that you weren’t wearing your necklace anymore.
Then a hand pulled it up on your shoulders and slid back down your arm.
A guy is standing next to you and laughing as if you’ll give him money for doing so.
He’s tall. He looks like he could be built, too.
It’s like a slap in the face, worse than when you pushed him away.
Looking down, Miguel saw your hand in his, clinging tight. You smile at the guy and reach up to get something out of his hair.
Miguel thinks that there was nothing wrong with his hair. There was nothing to smile about either.
The guy’s hands touch you in places where Miguel has embraced. His fingers were covering the same neck he’d put his head in. His thumbs ran over the apples of your cheeks, the same ones that used to crowd his lips.
You lean into the guy’s chest and say something that he can’t hear.
His stomach makes an angry lurch and he feels that orange being shift to a green one. It’s clawing at him, pulling at his mind.
This wasn’t how today was supposed to end. You weren’t supposed to cling to some random guy. You weren’t supposed to be with someone else.
Miguel turns when he leans down towards you, chest burning. What he didn’t see was not true to him. What he didn’t know was not reality.
GymRat!Miguel stormed out of the building, and images of you happy with someone else faded onto the inside of his eyelids.
The material of his sweater was scratching against his skin as he made his way back to the festival entrance.
Everything was too much. The people were too loud, the lamps were too bright, and the music playing over the speakers sucked.
His nose started to twitch and he wondered why did festival food have so much damn sugar.
Someone nearly hits the ground as he pushes past them, a confused noise hitting the air, but he doesn’t feel inclined to stop.
GymRat!Miguel who almost breaks free from what feels like a harmful joke when Xina spots him.
“Hey!” She ran over to him, leaves crunching against her boots. She’s wearing the varsity jacket he bought her years ago. “Leaving already?”
“Yeah, I,” he stopped when he thought he heard your laugh somewhere deep in the festival. “I’m not feeling too good. Think I’m gonna go back to my dorm.”
“Oh, do you have a fever? The weather did drop out of nowhere,” her hand lifted, fingers twitching like she wanted to see for herself.
She hesitates, scared he’ll blow away.
When her fingers press into his neck, he just wants to cry. It felt like when she caught him crying under the trees on the playground or when he’d show up at his grandma’s house with a chubby face full of tears.
He covers her hand for a second, just one, then pushes it away.
If he talks about it, he’ll break into pieces.
“Here,” he shoved the bunny into her hands. The dress is wrinkled, and the bow is a bit lopsided.
Xina’s eyes grow as sees it. The smile on her lips is familiar, “Thank you. I love it.”
Her mouth opens as if she wants to say more, but Miguel starts first.
“Glad you like it. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, ok. Get back safe, Hare-Hare.”
He heads towards his building empty-handed.
GymRat!Miguel who is in denial.
He’s moved past his brain making up you being at the Halloween festival and was now choosing to believe that it was a friend.
The tiny Gabriel on his shoulder was telling him that you had moved on. You had a new boyfriend, so he needed to move on as well—or stop moping about you.
He was choosing to ignore him for now.
It’s been another week since he saw you. Thanksgiving was on its way and he hasn’t been focused in a single class.
At a time when he really needed Tempest to update him, she told him to step back and recenter himself. Something about him not being level-headed.
He didn’t care.
The point of no return was truly here as he stood in front of the elevator in the art building.
A bag of food was sweating in his palm, and the two drinks were seeping into his hoodie, but he would regret it forever if he didn’t try talking to you again before the semester was over.
He’s doing something he told himself he wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t help that he still knew your schedule by heart. Taking a chance on you sticking around for studio hours was all that he had.
GymRat!Miguel who got to the right floor and was happy to see a student leaving the room.
The lights in the hallway were still on and music came from down the hall.
Miguel walked down, peering in every door, leaving once he couldn’t see you or when the people inside gave him weird looks.
GymRat!Miguel who walks into the last studio in the hallway with quiet steps.
Your canvas is almost bigger than you, the top of it covering you as you moved your brush across it.
You had headphones on, star molds stuck on the sides of them.
Miguel sat the food down on the table, moving like a stealthy agent.
Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, yet paint was still on them despite your efforts. You looked tired, but god, you were still overwhelmingly gorgeous to him.
He stepped closer. Slowly, step by step, coming into your peripheral.
“Why are you here?”
Miguel paused mid-walk, face like a puppy who got caught.
He should have thought this through more.
“I wanted to see you,” he holds his hands before him. It’s not making him any smaller, but it brings a slight comfort. “Brought some food.”
“’M not hungry.”
An apology is his first instinct, but the sound of your stomach growling speaks for him.
You refuse to look at him, face warm.
“It’s your favorite. Come eat, please.”
Taking off your headphones, you sighed.
“Fine.”
GymRat!Miguel who has to pinch himself to stop staring at you.
You weren’t just tired, you were exhausted. Your eyes drooped as you bit into your fries, and your movements were sluggish.
You didn’t ask for his extra sauce like you usually did. You didn’t even try to steal his fries.
“How have you been?” he asks instead of digging himself further into the sad hole of his heart.
Your eyes flick at him over your glasses and back to your food.
“Really, Miguel?”
“Y-yes? I’m always wondering how you are.”
“Then you should know how I’ve been already, then.”
Miguel faltered.
“You’re not very subtle, you know? I could see you pacing back and forth around campus.”
“Oh,” he slurped his drink nervously.
“And I saw you at the festival, too.”
He almost punctured the styrofoam in his hand.
“So, you’ve been fine is what you’re telling me. I’m gla-” he choked on the words. “I see you’ve…met someone.”
“He was just a friend. You could have said ‘hi’ then, if you really wanted to speak with me.”
“Didn’t look like a friend,” left Miguel’s mouth before he could stop it.
You hummed, eyebrows raised, and a click sound from your teeth. “Oh, but now do you see how that feels?” You started to untie your apron.
“I didn’t mean for that to come out in that way. I came here to just talk.”
“About what? How you didn’t actually cheat on me? How you didn’t mean for any of this to happen? How you’re sorry you got caught?”
He bit his tongue.
That was almost what he wanted to say.
“About us,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I still love you, and it’s killing me not to be with you. This is as plain and simple as I can say it. I’ll say it over and over and over again until you hear me.”
“Miguel,” your voice puffed out, weary and broken, “you cheated on me with your best friend and now you’re here trying to spin this and pull me back. I-I have dignity. As much as I want to pretend like what’s been happening this semester is meaningless, I can’t.”
“And I’m telling you that I would never do that you. Not in a million years, not in this lifetime, would I ever purposely hurt you in that way. Baby, please. Listen to me!”
“I see the way you are with her,” your words fall after his. “I remember the texts. There is something there. I don’t know if I can compete with that and I’m not trying to. So, if you want to be with her, then do that, but leave me out of it.”
Miguel is quick to grab your hands as you try to turn away, “Fine. There is something there.”
You try to yank yourself from him again, the pain from October 13th filling you again, but his hands are faster this time.
“There’s a girl who used to threaten to beat me up if I didn’t defend myself against bullies. There’s a girl who used to trade collectible cards with me in secret because her parents didn’t allow her to obsess over junk, and the girls at school thought it was lame. There’s a trust built long over a decade that has been broken. I do care about her, as I would do with any friend, but you have to understand that I care about you, too.”
“Then why didn’t you show that?” you whispered, tears leaving your eyes. “It felt humiliating, Miguel. That night, I felt disgusting. Like you were just throwing me away. I kept thinking that you lied to me about everything, that you were indulging in something that you never really wanted.”
Miguel reached to hold your face, thumbs sliding your tears away, heart breaking.
“Lo siento, amor. Hm?” he wanted to take your pain away and place it onto himself if it meant that you didn’t talk like this. “It’s not true. What we have created is not some trial run. I love you so deeply, that I was going insane. Knowing that you thought otherwise is painful to hear. The buildup to that night is a misunderstanding. You have to know that.”
You take a breath, “How could I know?”
Miguel stared at your face and thought the same.
He’s been yelling trust, trust, trust and when he thinks back to your few interactions with Xina, it clicks that you truly had no foundation to trust.
“If I had just been better, you would have known.”
Like you said, Xina had walked all over him.
“So what now?” you asked, and pull your sweater over your fingers.
Miguel blinked, “I was hoping to start over? Restart?”
“I can’t,” you said immediately and Miguel tensed. “You entering my life has given me far more ups than downs, but when those downs come, they can be brutal.”
“So, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend, again?”
You shake your head and he felt like it was his turn to cry.
“I want action. Show me that something like this won’t happen again. We can sit here and tell each other promises until we’re blue in the face, but what do those promises mean if one person or thing can ruin it.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll do anything.”
You brush his hair back and wrap his arms around your waist to settle in this feeling. Your thumbs traveled from his hairline to curves of his ears down to his jaw. They rub circles into his skin, slow and rhythmic.
“Have you talked with Xina? Has she confessed to what you’re telling me she has done?”
He shakes his head softly, afraid to break the scene.
You laugh, small and quiet, then unwrap his arms from around you. You go back to your canvas and start to scrape at the glass of the taboret. Miguel was so in a trance, that almost didn’t notice the switch.
“I’m going to talk with her,” Miguel stated across the room.
You wave a hand in the air, unmoved.
He followed you as you go to the mineral spirits bucket to soak your brushes.
“Baby-“
“As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t talk to me until whatever you two have going on is fixed. Don’t know who 'baby' is.”
You walk to the sink and turn the water on. Miguel was right behind you and grabbing the dish soap before you can.
“And I will talk to her,” Miguel sayid. You reach for the soap and he holds it out of your reach, petulant. “Baby.”
You give him an irritated look and pinch his neck. He makes a hurt noise and gives you the jug.
“Action. Miguel.”
GymRat!Miguel who waited until you’ve packed everything up.
He didn’t mean for this to turn into him teasing you, but he couldn’t help it. He was getting his fill while he still could.
“At least let me walk you back to your dorm,” Miguel sayid, picking up the wet paper towels you’ve been throwing at him.
“No, thanks. I have a date. I don’t need you changing up my energy.”
Miguel’s smile dropped.
“You do?”
“His name starts with an R, ends with an E. He’s super sweet. Sturdy.”
Reese? Reggie? Raye? Ronnie?
“I see,” Miguel’s heart plummets. “Your friend wasn’t just that.”
“Mm-hm. We’re still testing the waters, but I don’t think he’ll disappoint me.”
Miguel didn’t know what to say. He was nothing but bold, though.
“Who’s to say that…guy won’t hurt you?”
Who’s to say that he would treat you better than Miguel?
You pull the straps of your back over your shoulders and Miguel wants to hold it for you.
A snicker leaves you, “Because he’s made of plastic and is designed of pleasure.”
“Oh.”
“Bye. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”
Miguel stood and watched you go, wondering if this was progress.
GymRat!Miguel whose bedroom was filled with the chatter of his friends once more.
Friendsgiving was always fun.
GymRat!Miguel who thinks that Lyla is a terrible teammate.
“You’ve got be doing this on purpose,” Miguel groaned as Lyla’s Yoshi pumps the pedal incorrectly.
“I don’t know what you’s talking about!” Her giggles float across the room as saw Miguel get more and more frustrated.
Winston and Tempest were laser-focused, their Monty Mole and Peach following a stead 1-2 rhythm to get their cart across the track.
“Lyla!” Miguel yells as her Yoshi stumbles back. “You’re selling me. You want me to lose.”
The mini-game ends with Tempest and Winston high-fiving each other and Miguel yelling at Bowser to pick his head up.
GymRat!Miguel who laughed as he watched Winston reenact his band director, nearly breaking his neck.
“I’ve never seen a bald man somersault on grass until that day.”
GymRat!Miguel who, full off of food and peach cobbler that Tempest made, stared at the bag of gummies that she placed in the middle of their huddle.
“We can just try this tonight. We’re safe with each other,” Tempest whispered.
“You guys are horrible role models,” Miguel said.
“I don’t know. That blue one is speaking to me. It reminds me of Scooby Doo,” Winston mumbled.
Lyla motioned across one, “Maybe we can cut it in half.”
“That defeats the purpose though. These barely have anything in them,” Tempest complained.
“Says you,” Miguel quipped. “You just called me about a cherry bong the other night.”
“Ok, but wasn’t it cute?”
GymRat!Miguel who nearly jumped out his skin when his door slams open.
Everyone except him shoves their gummy in their mouth with lightening speed. Miguel just holds his awkwardly as he turns to see him mom standing in the doorway.
“Yeah, ma?” he says. He chose to ignore Winston who is over exaggerating, lips smacking.
“Mijo! I have a surprise for you guys!”
GymRat!Miguel who sat awkwardly on his rug, running his wrapped gummy in his palm.
Lyla was practically in Tempest’s lap, tapping at her phone. Tempest is looking around their circle expectantly.
Winston started tapping a fast beat on his arm.
Miguel is looking everywhere except in front of him where Xina was sitting with her chin tucked into her knees.
“It’s good to see you again,” Winston said, forever the peacemaker.
Xina relaxed a bit, “You guys, too. I’ve missed this.”
Miguel saw Tempest softening up a bit at Xina’s words.
“When is stuff gonna hit?” Lyla barks out to which Tempest elbows her.
Xina cleared her throat, “Actually can we talk, Miguel?”
“Yeah, shoot.”
Xina looked around them, “Alone?”
GymRat!Miguel who was standing across from Xina in the office-turned-bedroom that his parents barely used.
“Did my mom invite you?” Miguel asked.
“Actually, Tempest did.”
Miguel raises his eyebrows and nods. He didn’t expect that but he’s not mad at it.
Xina was antsy, arms hiding themselves in the sleeves folded across her body. Miguel stayed quiet.
“So, things between us haven’t been exactly smooth sailing lately.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Miguel looked down at the shark slippers you bought him last year.
“And I have some things that I want to explain to you.”
Miguel raised his eyes expectantly. Xina was mirroring his posture, but her face looked uncomfortable, conflicted.
Her eyes flicker over his before she covered her face and huffs, “这太难了.” (This is so hard.)
“What’s hard?” Miguel asks, pulling together the few times Xina taught him anything. He sat down, hoping it would relax her more.
Her hands drop as she blinks at the ceiling, “Everything. When it comes to you, everything just gets overwhelming.”
“As in?”
She looked at him in disbelief, “As in I’m doing silly shit, again.”
A pause in her words comes as they hear laughter from down the hall.
“Last year was so surreal. I did everything right. My mailbox was full of acceptance letters. My mom finally genuinely smiled at me for the first time in what felt like years. I moved so far away from my parents that I felt like that string that kept me attached to them had broken. I had fun. I went to my first party and got so drunk that when I woke up, I was on the porch of a frat. I made friends who could relate to me more than anyone else. I made acquaintances who could have never gotten into that school without their parents painting the campus with money. Still, I worked my ass off and got kicked out because one of them hid drugs under my seat.”
Miguel’s breath hitched, but Xina continued.
“It was my word against kids whose parents could have the school shut down within minutes. My dad was so angry at me that he pretended like I wasn’t in his home. And my mom just,” her leg started to bounce. “She helped me pack up some things and sent me to go live with my aunt for the summer. It wasn’t until she dropped me off at the airport that whispered to me that she loved me. That she was proud of me. That it was ok to make mistakes.”
“I cried like a baby for half of the flight. And it wasn’t until I got to customs that I realized that I should have called you. You always knew what to tell me no matter what the situation was and I just disappeared. Everything came back tenfold and I missed you so much. So when I saw you again, it was like I fell back into my old habits. I thought ‘I’m finally going to do it!’ but would chicken out and relieve that stress. I was kind of hoping that my tipsy self would have more confidence.”
“Because a drunk tongue speaks a sober mind?” Miguel hummed.
Xina finally laughed, “Are you 40 or something? Yeah. Exactly.”
Miguel blinked and looked up at her, “So tell me what your sober mind wants to say, Xina.”
Xina’s eyes lowered, “That I. I feel like I lose myself when I’m around you. It’s why I acted the way I did. It’s why I overstepped.”
His heart picked up as he registered her words.
“I like you so much, Miguel. More than I can bear. More than I’d like to admit. More than a friend.”
dividers by: @adornedwithlight 🩵
a/n: Please don't be mad at me. 😵💫 Also please watch your tone in the comments. 🤠 Be very mindful, very demure.
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♡ part seven ♡
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
*still bad at writing smut. jus pretend i wrote something good… also im sorry!!!!
You’re already awake when John's eyes finally begin to blink open, his first sight being the back of your head.
You’re fidgeting with his wedding band again, gently tracing your thumb over the engraving as you hold his left hand that’s slung over you.
"Mornin’..." He mumbles once he finally stops blinking, his eyes slowly coming into focus again as he realizes that you're awake. He sees you toying with his wedding band, which makes him smile as he watches.
“Hey there.” You smile, finally removing your hand from his.
You turn to lie on your back so you can see him better.
The regret of letting him stay after ruining your date had started to set in… but the memory of what the two of you did last night helped blur the lines.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask quietly. John’s eyes are studying your face with a lazy smile on his lips.
“God, y’r so beautiful.” John whispers, eyes locked on yours.
Your cheeks flush pink, though you have no idea why he still has that effect on you.
Your hands move to your face, covering your blushing cheeks with a laugh.
John laughs too, prying your hands away from your face. “Just lemme look at you, lovey. I can’t get enough.”
John manages to remove your hands and pin them above your head with one hand while his other hand cupped your face, turning you towards him. He presses kisses from your temple down to your jaw, then to your neck.
You squirm under him when his lips move back up and get close to yours; you turn your face away from him.
“Is something wrong..?”
“Morning breath.” You mumble. John chuckles, turning you back to your side and pulling you close by your hips.
“We can work aroun’ it.” He murmurs in your ear, his hardness pressing against your ass. You can’t help but to giggle when John starts to dry hump you like a horny teenager. It’s fun for you to see him like this recently; it’s like he’s been trying to make up for lost time.
Though your giggles quickly turn into a gasp when the head of his thick cock pushes your lips apart, slowly pushing in. John’s big arms are wrapped around you in a bear hug as he thrusts into your still sore cunt.
A strong hand grips your thigh, lifting your leg so he can get a better angle. A deeper fuck.
You can’t do much but moan and whimper as John takes what he wants— not that you’re not enjoying it.
“That’s right, lovey, that’s it-” John talks you through your climax, but not slowing down on your behalf. His grunts and your moans fill the room; your eyes roll back when John finally does come… You whine a bit when he begins to pull out, which makes him laugh softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I miss you when you pull you.” You pout. “Can’t we just nap with it in?”
John snorts.
You look up at him when he finally sits up and stretches.
“Staying for breakfast..?”
John looks relieved when you ask him to stay.
“Making breakfast.” He grins before he leans down and finally steals a kiss despite your morning breath warning. “Lemme get the kids up.”
You watch as John stands up and pulls on a pair of joggers before heading out to the hall. He’s clearly comfortable being back in his old house.
Your eyes widen when you see the evidence of last night; red scratch marks over his back, bite marks on his shoulders.
You quickly pull on John’s boxers from the floor and a hoodie from the hamper, and follow after him with his t-shirt in hand.
John freezes for a moment as he feels your hands pull the shirt over his head. He looks back at you with a questioning look.
"What're you doing?" He says this with a confused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow.
"Marked you up pretty good." You blush, rubbing his back gently after his shirt is on. You give his butt a pat and heard towards your youngest’s bedroom.
“She still a grump in the mornings?” John asks.
“Not when her daddy’s home.” You shrug.
Home.
•••
“You’ve gotta let her go at some point.”
John looks up at you in the doorway from where he’s sat on your youngest’s toddler bed. It was practically a chair for him due to his stature.
“Right…” John looks back down to your youngest who, sleepy after her bath, is fast asleep in his lap. Her damp hair is combed out of her face and her cheek is pressed right up against John’s chest
“I just, eh… I’ve missed a lot of her life, haven’t I?”
“She’s still little.” You reassure him. “There’s still time.”
John stands up slowly and is gentle when laying her back on the little bed. He pulls the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her head.
After John joined you in the doorway, he crosses his arms as he swallows back a small lump in his throat, thinking about the years that had passed and the time he lost with his kids and you.
Only seeing you two days a week just wasn’t enough.
You rub John's arm gently. He's normally not a very affectionate or emotional man, but he has a soft spot when it comes to his family.
John looks at you with watery eyes.
"You big softie." You tease, knowing he's really anything but.
"Alright." John rolls his eyes at you and grins as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom.
John sits at the edge of the bed and you sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You could tell the guilt was eating at John, for missing out on the kids first few years.
“You’re a great dad, John.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that, right?”
John sighs.
“You are.” You smile softly, one arm now around his neck and the other hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to have babies with.”
John chuckles at that. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm.” You nod. “I’d still have 98 more with you.”
John's eyes shift up to meet yours once you say that.
He raises an eyebrow at first as he takes a moment to process that... but then, he eventually laughs. "You’re crazy…" His smirk widens a bit, and he moves his thumb along your jawline now.
"What if we have another?" You practically whisper.
"You’re not serious…” John shakes his head slowly.
“I think it’d be wrong not to.” You fake a little pout. “Have you seen our babies? They’re gorgeous.”
“You want to keep having babies with me, is that it? More mini-me’s running around?”
“I do.” You nod, you face moving closer to his. You smile when your lips meet, just barely brushing against each other.
John smiles back. "Well, I'm not gonna deny you..." His grin widens a little now as he stands, you in his arms.
He tosses you gently onto the bed.
You grab the front of his shirt and pull him into you.
•••
After a few hours, the two of you had moved from the bed to the floor, the bathroom counter, and now you are in the kitchen having a water break.
The two of you, sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted, look at each other grinning ear to ear as you sip your waters.
You’re stood across from John with a robe on and your legs crossed, as a precaution.
John has just his boxers on as he finishes his water and looks at you, leaning back against the kitchen island.
"Feeling a little uncomfortable, love?" He says this as he notices the little way that you're standing, and then he gives a smirk.
"Forgot how messy it is." You confess with flushed cheeks.
John hums in acknowledgment and pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly; a nice change of pace.
He lets the kiss hold for a bit longer than a usual peck before finally letting go and gently squeezing your rear as he pulls away.
"You need anything from me right now lovey?" He asks with a soft look.
"I want you to move back in."
John pauses for a bit after you make this request. He stays quiet as he blinks, looking surprised as he hears this.
"Really?" He asks, wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.
Part of him thought that he'd have to beg for this.
"If you were serious about wanting us to do this again, then I want to do it for real. You're moving back in to our house, we're sleeping back in our bed, and we're being a family again."
“You mean that?” John asks cautiously.
You nod. “But I’m keeping our no fighting rule. You have to communicate with me, John.”
“Anything, love. I’ll do anything you ask.”
Your smile grows at how eager he is to get back together. “You’re stuck with me now, Johnathan Price.”
John just laughs, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into a another kiss.
Your arms are draped around his neck when you’re set back on your feet.
“I’ve missed this.” You admit quietly.
“I’ve missed you.” John counters. His smile suddenly falters a bit when he speaks again. “But we should really talk about it more, figure it all out before we rush into it.” He runs his hand over his beard.
"We can talk it over tomorrow..." You slowly undo your robe, keeping your eyes on him.
John watches you undress slowly, his eyes glued to your every movement. He continues looking at you throughout the whole process.
Once the robe hits the floor, John lets out a soft groan and looks you over.
You hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his hips closer to you.
John smirks as you pull him closer to you, and he lets himself get pulled in willingly. His hands move to your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"Again? What're you doin' to me, lovey..."
•••
You look up from brushing your teeth and notice John waiting in the doorway of the washroom.
“Missed me that much?” You tease. “I thought you’d be asleep by now…”
John shakes his head, looking just as wrecked as you felt. “Wanna talk to you first.”
You glance at him again, noticing his suddenly stoic expression.
“Sure,” You nod, following him into the bedroom. The two of you sit at the edge of the bed, next to each other. You instantly get a sick feeling in your stomach by seeing how anxious John looks.
He sighs, closing his eyes tightly as he gathers up the courage to just say it.
"There's something I didn't tell you, that night…" John hesitates before continuing, the silence between the two of you becoming deafening.
He remains silent for a moment longer, trying to find the perfect way to word this to you.
You don't speak.
You think back to the fight that lead to you wanting a divorce.
His job had kept him away for months at a time, that's what started it.
You felt like every time he came back, he was more and more distant. Then you found a plane ticket back to London.
You accused him of cheating, and he couldn't prove you wrong.
John's voice gets quiet as he takes another deep breath.
"That night... I didn't cheat on you. I did keep something from you, but not because of that.” He opens his eyes and looks at you for just a second before he goes back to looking down at the floor.
“Then what was it?” Your voice was strained as you tried to coax the truth out of him. "Just tell me what it was so we can try to move past it.”
“I have a… I have a child. A son, back in London.”
You froze.
Your stomach sank.
You couldn’t even speak.
John sits quietly and waits for you to say something, anything.
"How old?" You ask softly, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your "no fighting" rule.
"He's ten..." He hesitates again, unsure of just what else to add.
You let out a shaky breath. Ten. He’s older than your oldest, meaning that he wasn’t a result of John cheating on you...
You finally open your eyes , ready to look at him.
"Why... Why wouldn't you tell me that you had a child from before we met?"
John sighs again, not expecting you to be this levelheaded about things. He was expecting something much different from this.
“I was afraid.” John admits. He pauses to look away briefly before continuing. "I… I just kept trying to find the right time, the right way to say it to you..."
"...were you with his mother when we met?"
The question catches him off guard, you could see it on his face.
"Yes... I was..."
"I'm gonna be sick." You get off of the bed and stand up.
John immediately stands as well, watching you as you stand and start to walk away from him.
"Wait-" He quickly grabs your arm to stop you, unsure if you're going to the bathroom to be sick or just not look at him anymore.
You pull your arm from his grasp
"You were with her and had a child with her and yet you still took me home from the bar that night? You still fucked me the next day?"
“…yes.” He sighs, still avoiding eye contact. His voice drops to almost a whisper.
"And then you... would say you were at work and instead visited them? Were you still fucking her?!” You tried not to raise your voice, more for the sake of the children than for John.
John tries his best to not get angry, but he's fighting back a lot of emotions now, primarily frustration with himself. He stays quiet for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. He rubs his eyes and then speaks again, trying to find the right words.
“…no, I wasn’t fucking her. I haven’t cheated on you, I want that to be clear.”
"I'm having a hard time believing you." You admit bitterly, crossing your arms. “You and I were divorced for two years; you came back for one night and we’ve been fucking ever since.”
“Wasn’t like that with her.” John insists with a curt shake of his head.
"Why didn't you just tell me the night we met? Or the next morning?"
He stays silent again as he thinks about that very question. He takes in a long breath and then finally answers, his voice still a bit quiet.
"I didn't think you would have given me a chance if you knew the truth..." John says softly, starting to feel some resentment towards himself start to build up.
"The truth being that you had a girlfriend and a baby back home, and were fully planning on cheating on her."
John remains silent.
He didn't know how to argue with that.
He knew it was true. He knew he was being selfish at the time, but he just couldn't let you go after that night. He couldn't explain it.
"Or was she your wife? Fuck, I feel like I don't know anything about you!" Your voice cracks as the tears start forming.
John can hear how hurt you are in your voice, and he hates seeing you like this. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that you wouldn’t let him.
Not when it was his fault that you were like this.
"Six years, John. You've had six years to tell me about this." You keep your arms crossed tightly, trying to stop the angry jitters.
John doesn’t speak.
"How often do you see them?" You ask suddenly, your breath shaky.
"Not often," John answers earnestly. He rubs his face as he tries to continue.
"I only see them once a month, maybe... Every few months, at least. I just go over to spend time with my son..." His words get a little stuck in his throat, feeling the guilt eat away at him like a virus.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"About a month ago..." John says softly, his voice sounding just a little bit sad as he mentions how long it's been since he's seen his son.
Your eyes widen.
He had to have just come back from seeing them when he came to shovel the driveway.
John notices how your eyes widen at what you just heard. He immediately looks down, feeling even more shame wash over him.
"You... You're-" You rub your eyes, feeling like I'm about to lose it on him.
John keeps quiet, waiting for the worst to come from this.
If you want to yell at him, if you want to throw things, hit him, kick him out again, he wouldn't blame you at all for any of it.
He'd take it all on the chin if it meant that he could get the opportunity to fix things.
Instead, you just cry.
Sobbing, shaking.
John has had a secret family for the last eight years and kept it a secret from you for the entire six years you’ve known each other.
Your children have a sibling they've never met, but their dad spends time with pretty often.
You’re gutted.
John's reaction to your crying is instant. He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you as you cry.
He knows that nothing he could say right now could make your pain go away, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he still tries his best.
"...I'm sorry, lovey… I’m so sorry," He whispers. He tries to think of anything else to say, but that's all he can say, all he has right now.
John rubs your back as he holds you close to him, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.
John feels your grip around him tighten as you continue to cry, and he squeezes you tight too, not wanting to let go. Just letting you cry against his chest, rubbing your back lightly as he continues trying to process all that just happened.
John rests his chin on your head, his voice raspy when he finally speaks again.
“That night we met… I left your flat knowing that I had to leave her for you; it was love at first sight. I needed to be yours, love. I needed you to be mine.”
You finally pull out of his embrace.
You wipe your tears off of your face and try to steady your shaky breathing.
"You should... You should sleep on the couch."
John watches as you pull away from him.
He's speechless.
He was expecting more... For you to kick him out all together, to tell him to go back to his own place...
But instead you're just calmly telling him where he should sleep.
John nods slowly. He doesn’t fight. He walks downstairs without another word.
You don't even want to be in your bed, where John and you have been sleeping together.
Instead you quietly go into your youngest’s bedroom and scoop her up, carrying her into your oldest’s bedroom and crawling in beside him in his twin bed, holding both of your children close.
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#call of duty#captain john price#captain john price x reader#captain price#john price#cod smut#captain price smut#cod headcanons#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod mw3#cod mw2#exhusband!price#dad!price#price headcannon#captain price fluff#price headcanons#price x reader#141 x reader#x reader#task force 141#bravo six#cod x you#cod x fem!reader#141 headcanons
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coriolanus being so stressed from all the work he has to do and then he gets home to you.
You’re in a perfect mood, happy to see him, layering on the kisses and sweet touches. He doesn’t mind them but no matter how many kisses you give to his cheek and forehead, and the gentle squeezes on his hand, the tension in his body remains.
Coriolanus feels you watching him closely and at some point he snaps about it, asking what's wrong.
"Take your clothes off." Your voice is softer and quieter than you expect it to be. He cocks his head to the side, his brow furrowing.
he listens. Coryo removes his shirt and pants, hesitating to take his underwear off. "Those too," you butt in before he can even think to ask. He follows your instructions and then sits back down on his chair, a small tint of a blush on his face.
You move onto the ground, gently nudging his legs apart so you can make yourself a home between them.
Soon, his hand finds your head and yours find his thighs, digging your nails into them as you take his cock as deep as you can in your mouth.
He lets you take the reigns, letting out small moans and praises. "I needed this," he'd say through a breathy gasp, his hand holding your head firmly but not pushing it down.
You think maybe he'd even let you control the entire thing. That is until he gets close. That's when you feel the push on your head and his hips bucking up, desperately chasing after a release that he didn't know he needed.
"My good girl, always know what I need hm? Look at you taking it," he lets out a chuckle, completely in awe of you like this is the first time he's ever had his cock in your mouth.
coriolanus also has a habit of not announcing when he's cumming, so when he does, you moan around his cock and he fucks up into your mouth, ensuring you swallow every last drop of him, just how he likes it.
his grip loosens and you take your mouth off of him, panting and leaning your head on his thigh. "Thank you," he whispers, his fingers trailing along your hairline and rubbing your temple.
let's chat about coryo, here :)
#coriolanus snow#tom blyth#coriolanus snow smut#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus x reader#coryo snow#tom blyth x you#tom blyth smut#tom blyth imagine#coriolanus x you#coriolanus smut#coryo#coryo x reader
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Hiii, love your writing 🩷
I was thinking about Single!Dad Rafe x reader. Like, how would they meet, how would his child react to reader and so on.
The Gymnastics Coach
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
It smells like feet. That’s the only thing Rafe can focus on as he stands with only his socks on whilst his daughter patiently stands on his feet to wait. He holds her small hands in his and he wonders how he let Sarah convince him to sign Sloane up. Although, he knows it was quite easy for his sister to do because he would do anything for Sloane, except for maybe family gymnastics. Not only does the feet smell turn him off, but the stares from the older women are off-putting to him. Since Sloane was born, his playboy days are past him and he definitely isn’t going to start an affair. “Daddy, time for gymnastics?” the small blonde wonders, her big blue eyes blinking up at him. Rafe is glad there is no trace of his ex on his baby girl’s face. That woman doesn’t deserve any ownership of his girl. He checks his golden watch which is out of place to see there are still two minutes until they are called in. He smiles at her, “Almost, Little Warrior.” Her head flicks up and down and she goes back to looking forward. It was a mistake choosing the class that is during the work day. His tie causes him even more discomfort and he decides that he won’t be coming back. He’ll just sign her up for ballet instead or Sarah could take Sloane to the other classes. Rafe does prefer taking Sloane to her classes though because he wants to be there for his daughter.
Right at eleven o’clock, the door to his right opens and his breath is taken away by the beautiful woman who walks out of it. She may be wearing nothing special, her red work t-shirt and yoga pants, but she somehow makes it look like she is wearing a dress made for the red carpet. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun with strands framing her face. All he wants to do is twirl those strands around his finger. “Welcome my little gymnasts and their parents! I am Y/N and I am so excited to lead you in Family Gymnastics,” a melodic voice greets and Rafe swears he has never heard anything so sweet. Hmm, so this is Sloane’s coach. He might have to keep her in the class after all.
———
Y/N doesn’t know why she is so nervous. She is Sloane’s gymnastics coach, so she has met and interacted with the young girl before. However, this time is different because she is going to be talking to the girl as her boyfriend’s daughter. She takes a deep breath as she knocks on the large door. A soft giggle falls past her lips when she hears the loud swears coming from Rafe’s lips and can see his panic through the glass door. Sloane comes running to her father’s side with a wide grin on her face. He takes her hand in his and they both walk to open the front door. “Hey,” he salutes with a stressed smile on his face. Seeing the state that he is in causes Y/N’s nerves to completely disappear. The only thought she has is how to remove his distress. She steps through the doorway and gives him a peck, “Hi, what’s wrong?” Before the fellow adult can answer, a tiny tug on Y/N’s dress causes her to look down. Sloane looks up at her coach with big eyes and her arms are out, demanding to be acknowledged.
The older woman smiles and picks the two-year-old up into her arms, “Hello, Sloane. How are you today, Pumpkin?” The girl grins at the kiss placed on her cheek and wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck. “Good! Daddy and I are making dinner for his girlfriend, Coach Y/N. But Daddy isn’t doing a very good job,” she tattles, causing her father to grimace. Y/N chuckles at the revelation, “Is that so? Well, maybe I can help him with that.” She carries Sloane to where she assumes the kitchen is in because it is the direction Rafe came from with him following behind her. The sight in front of her truly is a show. The pot is overboiling and there is a slight burnt smell wafting through the air. This causes Rafe to begin cursing again as he runs to the oven to pull out charcoal disaster. He gives his girls a sheepish look, “This was supposed to be chicken parmesan.” Her heart flips at his attempt to make her favourite meal for dinner. “It’s okay. If you have the ingredients still, then I can help you this time,” she offers, placing the girl on the counter.
After an hour, the trio are able to whip up something edible and eat at the dining room table. “Daddy, where is your girlfriend?” Sloane questions. Pasta sauce is smeared across her face and Rafe knows he’ll be finding it in odd places during bathtime. Y/N takes it upon herself to answer, “Well, Pumpkin, I’m your daddy’s girlfriend.” Silence falls over them and this causes her breath to hitch. Sloane looks between her dad and her gymnastics coach, trying to process what was said. The tension is cut when a massive grin slashes across the toddler’s face and she throws herself into Y/N’s arms. “Yayy! I love you,” Sloane exclaims.
———
The approach of pitter patters causes Y/N to stir. She has been living at Tannyhill for two months now; however, she hasn’t gotten used to having so many people around her. Her eyes flick toward the window to see the moon is still out, so curiosity fills her. The footsteps finally reach her bedside and she feels the poke of a small finger. “Mommy, I had a nightmare,” the three-year-old whispers. Y/N will never tire of hearing Sloane’s new name for her. The mother turns over to see her daughter, “It’s okay, Pumpkin. You can sleep with me and Daddy.” She helps the girl into the bed and nestles the young one between her two parents. The both of them try to go to sleep, yet it doesn’t befall them. “I’m still scared, Mommy,” Sloane informs, cuddling into Y/N’s side. The adult sighs and looks at a bedside table to see a pen. This forms an idea in her mind. She checks to see if her boyfriend is sleeping and he still is. How he can sleep with their movements is beyond her. She reaches for a pen and turns them both toward Rafe’s bare back. He is facing away from them, so his back is a perfect canvas for the two of them.
The two of them spent the night drawing on his back and giggling. Y/N had no idea how he didn’t wake up throughout the night. However, what the two of them didn’t know was that he had been awake the whole time. He stayed silent because he loved that the two people he loved the most in the world were bonding. So, when he woke up the next morning with new tattoos on his back, he pretended to be surprised and secretly grinned at the quiet laughter the two let out.
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#dad!rafe#dad!rafe cameron#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#outerbanks#outer banks fic#outer banks rafe#obx#obx fanfic#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx fic
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gilded
sunday x reader, established relationship i suppose, ooc sunday perhaps, refs to sunday's trauma and a lot of his unwelcomed thoughts, ummmm it's very short guys idk
wc ; ~700-ish words
this is my (late) submission from the stellaronhvnters sillay halloween event! i used the prompt foliage this time :-)
"doesn't he owe this to you?"
Sunday lived in a gilded cage, and he liked it there.
It was safe in there, sacred, with the bars perfectly, evenly spaced, just enough room for him to see out of, just enough to see what a proper child should not do, just enough to see what he should be better than, just enough for him to see what naughty, rowdy children look like.
So when the cool breeze reddens your nose, and your eyes peek at him from over your scarf, and you ask him:
"Sunday, wanna play in the leaves?"
Of course, his careful, calculated answer is:
"I'll pass, thank you."
He doesn't quite understand why your face falls the way it does, but it sends a shiver down his spine. That response was wrong.
But who can blame him, really? His shirt is crisp and clean, and the leaves have crinkled and curled on the ground for ages. They're dirty. Proper, well behaved children stay at Gopher Wood's side, back straight and posture proper, safe inside his gilded cage. He longs for it, sometimes. The safety. The sacredness. The cleanliness.
But this isn't all bad either, he muses. This is as close to safety as ever— your hand is placed securely in his own, your bared flesh against his gloved one, and every so often you make sure to give your joined arms a hardy swing. You've all but shut him out of his office for the day, the sky turning a mellow pink as the sun sinks beneath the clouds. "Autumn" you had called it; Penacony removed the harsh breezes and early darkness from this season, and its reality would be distasteful if not for your unabashed enjoyment of it.
Your favorite part of this time of year, you've told him, is how the leaves change color. Greens disappear into warm gradients, and he supposes he can see the appeal of that.
But that doesn't mean he has to roll in them.
You nudge his shoulder, and he realizes he's spaced off. Uncouth. Pay attention.
"Come on Sunday! Can't we live a little?"
Sunday allows a short, clipped chuckle to escape him. Your face is scrunched lightly, the way it always gets when you want to pout at him uselessly. You refrain from doing that, sure, but Sunday can tell it's only a few minute twitches away from forming such an expression.
"We? I never said you couldn't indulge," Sunday presses a finger against the knit in your brow, ironing out the crease formed there. Such an expression causes wrinkles. "You can go ahead. I'll be here."
You shake your head immediately.
"It's not the same," you sigh, and Sunday knows that tone. It's disappointment, hard and sharp and cold. Though it is faint, a different flavor when encased in your gentler, kinder, form, he can still detect it a mile away. "But it's okay, we can still go to the cafe as planned."
You don't seem disheartened. You've moved on, gracefully, with the ease he both envies and admires from you.
Everything was set out for him in his cage. He had a role to play, and fulfilled it properly. Played all his pieces properly, too, made sure everything set out for him stayed in its proper place. When that all shattered, he was lost. It was your guiding hands that found him and picked up what was left of him. You...loved what was left of him in fact.
Now that he plays the role of "boyfriend," doesn't he owe this to you? Would this simple act be enough to start balancing the scales for the sin of loving him?
"Sunday?"
Pay attention. Uncouth. Shame on you.
"It's not that big of a deal, okay?" Your own finger rubs at the crease in his brow. Normally, his facade is perfect, practiced. Ease is supposed to be the neutral face for a leader. He let his guard down.
"Look," you point, and overhead the trees shimmer with their reds and oranges and yellows, shining with the little scraps of sunlight that remain, "This is enough, isn't it? We don't have to jump in the piles if you don't want to."
Your hand in his grows tighter, and the reprimands that Sunday has repeated to himself again and again suddenly feel distant.
"Walking with you is more than enough, Sunday."
Sunday had lived in a gilded cage. But he supposes life outside isn't so bad, now.
Sunday takes a deep breath, and walks with you amongst the leaves.
•------------------------•
ty for reading 🙂↕️🙂↕️ rbs & comments are appreciated !!
#stwf : pumpkin patch!#honkai star rail headcanons#honkai star rail imagines#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x you#hsr x reader#sunday x you#sunday x reader#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#honkai star rail#☆.writing
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