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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

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kateschi · 5 days ago

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two heroes, one marriage

synopsis: having stolen the hearts of fans with your teamwork and marraige, you and katsuki are called in for a joint interview.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the magazine spread featuring you and katsuki as top pro heroes has the fanbase buzzing for weeks.

power couples aren’t uncommon, but the combination of your joint success and explosive chemistry—both literally and figuratively—makes you stand out.

when you both get asked to sit down for a joint interview, it’s hard to say no, especially when the public can’t seem to get enough of the dynamic between you and your husband.

sitting side by side on a plush sofa in the brightly lit studio, katsuki bristles with impatience, his jaw clenched as the interviewer introduces the segment.

it’s a familiar scene—his fiery personality on display for everyone to see—but you can feel the underlying tension, the way his body leans subtly closer to yours for grounding.

“so, the two of you are recognized as two of the top heroes of the year, and fans are really curious to know how you manage your lives as heroes and as a married couple,” the interviewer begins with a polite smile, clearly trying to ease into the conversation.

before you can respond, katsuki’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“what the hell kinda question is that?” he snaps, eyes narrowing as he crosses his arms. “we do our damn jobs, and we go home. simple as that.”

you stifle a laugh, used to his bluntness by now. gently placing a hand on his arm, you intervene.

“what he means,” you say, casting a glance at katsuki that makes him grumble, “is that it’s about finding a rhythm. we both understand each other’s work, so we don’t get in each other’s way.”

katsuki grunts, his fiery gaze fixed on the interviewer. “she knows how to handle herself; doesn’t need me micromanaging her every move.”

despite his words, his hand finds its way to your lower back, fingers pressing into the fabric of your suit.

his touch is subtle, a quiet reassurance in the midst of his usual tough demeanor, but you know it means he’s keeping you close, watching out for you in his own way.

the interviewer picks up on the moment, nodding enthusiastically.

“it sounds like you both have a lot of trust in each other. how do you support one another with the high demands of your careers?”

katsuki clicks his tongue, clearly irritated. “support? we’re pros. we know what we’re doin’ out there.”

but just as you’re about to add something, he turns his head slightly to you, his voice dropping just enough for you to hear the change in tone.

“that doesn’t mean I won’t blow the ass off anyone who even thinks about messin’ with her,” he mutters.

you chuckle softly, nudging him with your elbow. “and here I thought I didn’t need you hovering around.”

“shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite in his tone.

his hand stays on your back, thumb brushing up and down in a way only you notice. “just ‘cause you’re strong doesn’t mean I’m not gonna make sure you’re alright.”

the interviewer, sensing an opportunity, leans in. “mister dynamight, you seem pretty protective of your wife. would you say that’s how you balance work and home life?”

katsuki’s eyes flash, his scowl deepening. “of course, I’m protective. you think I’d let her get caught up in any shit without me there to take care of it?”

his voice is sharp, but the way his arm shifts slightly to pull you closer is anything but harsh. “we don’t even need to talk about this crap.”

you smile to yourself, knowing this is as close to an open display of affection as katsuki will get in public.

his explosive personality never wavers, but there are cracks in his tough exterior that only you can see—moments where his concern for you bleeds through.

when the interviewer pushes on, asking about how your relationship works in the field, katsuki scoffs again.

“are you gonna keep asking this?” he snaps, before glancing at you, his hand tightening just slightly at your waist.

he sighs, trying to compose himself. “we work together ‘cause we’re a team, a hella good one at that.”

his little proud smirk makes your heart flutter. you decide to tease him a little. “oh, so you’re saying you can’t live without me on the battlefield, huh?”

his glare is immediate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “don’t twist my words! I just—”

he cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath.

“you’re the one who keeps me in check, alright? so yeah, maybe i do rely on you. you’re my wife, and I am your husband. that’s natural! don’t make a big deal out of it.”

your husband huffs and looks away, which makes you giggle.

meanwhile, the interviewer chuckles nervously, clearly amused by the exchange. “it seems like you two have a really solid partnership.”

katsuki rolls his eyes. “damn right we do. we’ve got each other’s backs. that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”

as the interview wraps up, you feel katsuki’s hand slip from your waist, but his presence lingers, as solid and steady as ever.

once you’re off-camera and away from the prying eyes of the public, katsuki turns to you, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.

“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “this interview crap’s a waste of time.”

you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “let's hope they don't cut you out like they did in highschool.”

“shut the hell up.” but despite his grumbling, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the studio.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

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dilf-docs · 15 days ago

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So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #bfd!joel miller #bfd!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #to the devil i know series

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amoressb · 6 days ago

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───── KISS ME MORE 西村力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ trying to finish his makeup but he just can’t stop kissing you ｡｡ idol bf!riki x makeup artist!reader. fluff & wc. 1.4k ; lots of kissing, skinship, petnames｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

the backstage dressing room of the sold out arena was alive with activity. assistants rushed in and out, carrying outfits and adjusting mics, while the members of enhypen filled into the room, their energy a mix of nerves and excitement. riki, the main dancer, was the last to enter, his stage outfit already clinging perfectly to his frame. his hair was freshly styled and his usual confident grin was firmly in place.

you stood near the vanity, arranging your makeup tools neatly. you glanced up when the door opened and your heart did it’s usual flutter when your eyes landed on riki. despite working and being together for years now, he still had that effect on you.

“hey pretty,” riki greeted, making a beeline for you as the other members settled into their chairs. without a care for the busy room, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “riki!” you exclaimed, glancing around to make sure no one had seen, your cheeks flushing pink. “we’re at work!”

“and?” he teased, his voice soft and low so only you could hear. “it’s not like they don’t already know.” you tried to keep your expression neutral, but his adoring gaze was making it impossible. he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, his dark eyes warm and full of affection.

“go sit down,” you finally said, trying to suppress a smile as you motioned to his chair. “you’ve got a show to get ready for.”

“yes ma’am,” riki said with a mock salute before plopping into his chair. the other members exchanged knowing smirks but didn’t say anything, accustomed to their maknaes antics when it came to you.

you approached him with your makeup kit, your expression shifting to one of focus. you grabbed a primer and started dabbing it onto his skin. riki leaned back obediently, watching you the entire time. his eyes followed every move you made—how you tilted your head slightly while working on his foundation, the way your lips pressed together as you concentrated.

“stop staring,” you said without looking up, your voice tinged with amusement. “i can’t help it,” riki replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “you’re too pretty when you’re in your element.”

“flattery won’t get you out of wearing eyeliner,” you quipped, picking up the next product.

he chuckled, staying quiet for a moment as you traced sharp, precise lines around his eyes. but when you leaned in to work on his lips, he couldn’t sit still anymore.

“riki, baby,” you said, holding his chin to keep him steady, “if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to look like a mess out there and i’ll let the fans blame you.”

riki grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “would it really be so bad? they might think the smudges are part of my charm.”

“charm doesn’t cover uneven eyeliner or faded lip tint,” you muttered, dipping the brush back into the product. you leaned closer, focusing on his lips. “well,” he said, voice dropping a bit deeper than before, “if it’s my lips you’re worried about, maybe you should test them.”

“riki,” you warned, but your cheeks flushed at his teasing tone. in response, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving a faint mark of coral lip tint behind. “there, a little something just for you.”

you froze, your brush midair, and fixed him with an exasperated glare. “riki! you’ve ruined it again, that’s the third time!” he laughed, utterly unrepentant. “what can i say? your face is more fun to decorate than mine.”

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, grabbing a makeup wipe to start over. “at this rate, you’re going on stage with bare lips.”

“then the fans will get the real me,” he said with a playful shrug.

“no, the fans will get a makeup artist who quits her job halfway through the tour because of you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched in amusement.

as you leaned in again, riki stared at you with unabashed affection, making no effort to hide how enamored he was. the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way you bit your lip when you worked—it all made his heart race.

“riki, stop looking at me like that,” you murmured without glancing up.

“like what?”

“like you’re about to—”

before you could finish, he closed the distance between you two and kissed you square on the lips. it was soft but lingering, enough to make you forget for a moment that you guys were backstage, mere minutes before showtime. when he pulled back, your carefully applied lip tint was smeared, and his own lips were a mess.

“—do that,” you finished, blinking at him.

he grinned, completely unbothered. “you make it hard to resist, baby.” you sighed dramatically, though your cheeks were pink. “i give up. you’re going on stage like this.”

“no, no, no,” he said quickly, laughing. “i’ll behave this time, i swear.” you arched an eyebrow. “you said that five kisses ago.”

“this time, i mean it,” he said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands in mock innocence. “scout’s honor.”

the other members started laughing. jake smirked at riki from his chair. “you’ve got it bad, riki.”

“jealous?” riki shot back, unbothered by the teasing.

you sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling as you reached for the lip tint again, applying it with quick, practiced strokes. riki stayed still this time, though you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. “there,” you said at last, stepping back to inspect your work. “you’re ready.”

“perfect,” he said, glancing at himself in the mirror. then he turned to you with a cheeky smile. “almost as perfect as you.”

“flattery won’t save you if you mess it up again,” you warned, though you couldn’t help but smile. a knock on the door interrupted them and the groups manager poked their head in. “you guys are on in five.”

“got it!” riki called, standing up. he looked down at you, his expression softening. “wish me luck?”

“break a leg,” you said with a small smile, your voice gentler now. “and please don’t kiss anyone on stage.” he chuckled. “you know my lips are only yours.”

with a wink, he was gone, leaving you to clean up your station. you could hear the deafening roar of the crowd as the show began and a small smile tugged at your lips. as exasperating as he could be, there was no denying how proud you were of him.

hours later, the concert was in full swing. you watched from backstage, your heart swelling with pride as riki belted out the final dance moves of their song. his moves effortless and smooth, his stage presence captivating as always. by now, he and the other members took their final bows and headed offstage.

riki burst into the dressing room, still glowing with the adrenaline of the performance. his hair was damp with sweat, his shirt clinging to him, and he looked every bit of the star he was.

“y/nnn,” he called, his voice still slightly hoarse. he scanned the room until his eyes found you and his face lit up. without hesitation, he strode over, pulling you into a tight hug.

“riki, you’re all sweaty!” you protested, laughing as you tried to push him away.

“and i missed you,” he said smiling, grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, and leaning in without hesitation to kiss you before you could respond. his lips still tinted faintly with the remnants of his stage makeup. when he pulled back, your own lips bore the faint coral hue.

“you just kissed off the last bit of your lip tint,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “good,” riki said, his grin boyish and unrepentant. “it belongs on you anyway.”

their moment was interrupted by the other members filing into the room. jake let out a low whistle, grinning as he pointed at the couple. “you really can’t keep your lips off her, huh?”

“you’re gonna wear her out before the next show,” joked jungwon. riki rolled his eyes but kept his arm firmly around your waist. “jealousy isn’t a good look on you guys.”

“sure, sure,” jake said with a laugh. “just try not to kiss off her patience, too.” you shook your head smiling, “too late for that.”

riki leans down to kiss your lips again and looked into your eyes, ignoring the teasing entirely. “lucky for me, she loves me anyway.”

“unfortunately for me,” you muttered, though the warmth in your smile gave you away.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @flufflights

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mintmatcha · 2 months ago

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tiktok reader universe

contains mentions of sexual assault. cisfem reader.

There's still times when Bakugo can tell your mind wanders during sex. The focus drains from your eyes, your grip goes limp, and your smile slips just a bit. You always come back to him if he says something, but... sometimes he lets it happen, lets you drift away. Maybe the distance is needed.

Even after all this time, you still never sleep over after sex. Tonight, you're a bit more impatient than usual, fixing your hair and wiping your brow right after he pulls away.

"I was offered a job today," you say casually.

"Yeah?" Bakugo loops an arm around the empty pillow that could be yours, if only you'd lean back into it. "With who?"

Instead, he's left to study the curve of your spine as you throw your legs over the side of the bed. He loves the story your body tells, with its scars and marks. Even the acne pocks are a reminder you were once just a teenager, just like he was. His own scars have puckered with age, still the same raging pink they were when they first healed.

"Someone with way too much money-" you say. -"who likes what I've done for your image and thinks I can fix theirs."

"And can you?"

You shoot him a grin from over your shoulder. "Is that even a question?"

Truthfully, Bakugo thinks you could do anything if you wanted to. You could lean over and rip his heart from his chest with just your fucking teeth-- and you'd make it look easy. He'd maybe even thank you. He'd definitely let it happen again.

Bakugo gives up on luring you back. "Well, when do you start?"

Your head tilts.

"I don't," you say."I didn't take the job."

Bakugo sits up straighter.

"I didn't want to leave you."

The statement sits warm in his chest, then quickly cools.

"Well, maybe you should have."

That makes you turn. You cock your head the other way, expression neutral, but still gracing him with a closed lip grin. The stare lasts for a long while before you crawl back under the covers and return to his side. Your lips find the side of his neck and your hands grip back to him, hot, heavy, breathless in that way you think he likes. A hum builds in your throat, a rolling, performative sound.

"Pull your cock out," you demand, right into the shell of his ear. "If this is the last time, I want another round."

"What?"

He doesn't have time to react before you're gripping his half hard cock, jerking it up gently. It's still wet with you and buzzing with sensitivity, so much so that he can't help but enjoy it, enjoy you-

"If you're about to break up with me, I want to at least cum one more time."

He loses the remnants of his erection.

"That's not what I fucking meant." Bakugo tries to meet your eye, but you just keep kissing at him, gripping at him. "Just-- stop stroking my cock for a second and be fucking serious."

You freeze, but keep your hand on him.

"I don't wanna work together," Bakugo reaches for your hand. The free one. "I just want to date."

You don't respond.

"I want to take you places and have you meet my parents and-"

God. this is so unlike him. When did he lose his teeth? Did you pull them straight from his skull and hang them from your neck like jewels?

"I want you to sleep over." He means it. "Like a real fucking couple."

The ceiling fan hums with an uneven hitch, catching in the same spot each time. It's an easy fix, but he's been ignoring it for so long that it's almost blended into the tapestry of his home. Click-click-click-click-click: now it's deafening, overwhelming the silence you're choosing to sit in. Just as he's about to open his mouth, you look away from his body and meet his eye. There's no sharp edge to your eyes.

"'tsuki."

You say it like a mother about to comfort a child, with a rounded curve to your tone that he's never heard before. You're trying to dull the blow, but it does nothing. It's a fucking knife to the gut.

"I'm serious. I'm really serious." He points with his whole arm towards the bathroom. "I've had a fucking toothbrush ready for you for weeks now. It's right there, in the fucking package."

You withdraw, smile long gone. The air between you two, trapped under the covers, goes cold.

"The girlfriend thing." You are unrecognizable without your Mona Lisa grin and he's obsessed with it. He wants to consume these rare moments, chew on them until he's full of you and only you, despite how it makes his stomach turn. "It was never real. You know that."

You cover your bare tits with one arm, but leave your pussy exposed. It feels like a reflex more than an actual concern.

"I'm not meant to be a girlfriend. You don't want me as a girlfriend."

Bakugo's quick to close the distance between you, but he pauses when you full body flinch. Your quirk activates for a moment - you glitter out of existence and then immediately back in- like it's unwittingly done. It's another incredibly un-you moment, but one that he doesn't want to drink in.

"I do." He keeps his voice as delicate as he can. "I do. I fucking do."

"I don't know how to do the things you need. I don't know how to be a girlfriend," you say. The corners of your smile return and he can see the wall coming back up. The arch of your back, the way your hand suddenly cups your tit: you turn yourself into someone else, someone's who's happy to be here, in an instant. "I can make myself girlfriend shaped. I can open my mouth and let you fuck it. I can pose for a picture. I can make your friends jealous."

Oh, and that distant look comes back to your face. The dilation of your eye is just... wrong, even as you smile.

"But I'm just something that's girlfriend shaped," you say. "I'm an illusion, a creature, a tool, a hole-"

"Don't ever say that shit again."

It rips out of him too roughly. "A hole? That's-- why would you say that?"

It all seems to hit you slowly, as if you're processing your own words. Like it never occured to you that you were saying something foul.

"Because-" you try to explain yourself.

"You're just a girl," Bakugo doesn't let you finish the thought. He can't. Not when you're above him like that, so guarded and yet so vulnerable, neither predator nor prey. "I hate to break your fucking illusion or whatever, but you aren't this fucking lumbering beast or huntress or, or, or, I dunno, whatever the commission has tricked you into believing."

He tries to meet your eye, but you're ducking away from it.

"You're just a girl." He lets his hands fall back to his lap. The pinky that doesn't work twitches, kicking with it's old muscle memory. The scar tissue itches under it's own tautness. "Underneath it all. You're just a girl."

The mattress creaks under your weight as you shift back. Now, your eyes are incredibly focused, almost pinpricks. You watch him with an unreadable expression, one slowly inching more towards horror with every moment.

"You think I can't see you, but I can." Bakugo stays where he is. "And I think you want to be seen."

Everything moves slowly. You blink a couple times, with this meek nod, swallowing thickly as you listen. Then, you get off of the bed and head towards the door. All of your clothes are still scattered on the bedroom floor, your panties at the foot of the bed.

"Wait." Bakugo scrambles to get to his feet. "Don't- fucking wait."

He says your name, once, twice, three times, and gets no response. Panic and regret swirl in his skull, so violent he almost goes lightheaded. By the time he reaches the hall, you're gone, and he thinks you've activated your quirk to escape him. It's the nightmare he's always had around you, the one where you disappear into the night the second he gets too close.

And then the bathroom light flicks on. With a careful trepidation, Bakugo inches down towards the door, afraid the break the illusion. Maybe, if he moves too fast, you'll really scatter off into the night, a deer under his headlights.

But when he slides into the frame, you're just standing there, holding a familiar little tube.

"This it?" You hold the package in your hand. "My toothbrush?"

"Yeah."

With your thumbs, you crack into the packaging and carefully peel the toothbrush out. You run the head under the faucet, then turn it off.

"Toothpaste?"

Bakugo pulls out the top drawer. With a sullen nod, you take the toothpaste and unscrew the top. Bakugo watches you, both of you completely naked, both of you completely silent. It surprises him how unsexual it feels to be here, postcoital, still sweaty, watching you brush your teeth. After the moment settles, he steps over and grabs his own brush.

You're just a girl, he thinks as he brushes his teeth next to you. He likes that you're just a girl next to him.

The both of you finish up, then you silently pad back to the room. Bakugo follows, a healthy distance, but close enough the he watches you shrug on his sweatshirt before dipping under the covers. Your head rests on your pillow.

Bakugo finds his space on the other side of the bed and you lay there, in the dim overhead lighting.

"It's hard for me," you say.

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah."

Bakugo turns on to his side and almost reaches out. Almost. Instead, he goes back and turns off the light. When he returns, you're nothing but a dark lump beside him.

"That's okay," he says, "You can sleep however the hell you want."

Your silhouette stays still.

"Sometimes I wake up crying," you say. "Or kicking, or just remembering something I shouldn't."

"Remembering what?"

The click of the fan overtakes everything again as you lay there, pulling in even breaths. A moment passes, then another and another. You're silent for too long, long enough that he thinks you've fallen asleep. Just as he's about to give up, you sigh out a winding breath.

"He was a hero," you whisper. "I felt special when he paid attention to me."

A chill he can't place creeps up his spine. He wants to ask what that means, why you're telling him this, but nothing comes out when he opens his mouth. He has to swallow, then cleae his throat.

"Did-?" His voice crackles. "Did someone hurt you?"

Again, you're silent.

"Who?" This time, when you don't respond, he presses. "Fucking who?"

"Someone who retired a long, long time ago."

"Give me a name and I'll fucking-"

"Katsuki."

"Someone raped you."

He had to say it out loud and dispel the mystery behind it. It's selfish, brash, but he needed it- just as he needs this hand around you, holding, cradling-

"That's what happens when you're just a girl." You clutch at his forearm with a want that isn't present in your voice. "People hurt you."

The bite of your nails surprises him.

"It's safer to be something else."

It's his turn to be quiet.

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luveline · 2 months ago

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

You try to break up with your boyfriend. Aaron just wants to know why. (And what he can do to fix it.) [4k]

c: fem, stripper!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff epilogue, suggestive themes mdni. requested here

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

I don’t want to see you anymore.

The text doesn’t compute at first. He reads it twice. Reads the sender’s name, his heart stopped clean in his chest.

He puts down his pen.

The idea that the text wasn’t meant for him crosses his mind, but that might further break his heart. He knows you have clients, but you don’t contact them outside of the club.

His second thought is that he’d been a client unknowingly, but he made it clear to you those few months ago that he liked you as you, not as a service provider, and not as something to be bought. You thought he was trying to acquire you as a private escort. He explained it as what it was truthfully, if vulnerably.

He’s being broken up with, he surmises. Over text. By a woman he adores, who he’d thought was happy. Aaron opens his phone to call you, clicking your contact, bringing it to his ear. You don’t answer. He calls again and he’s clearly declined three rings in.

He puts his phone down and has a few minutes of unbreathable heartbreak. Just a few minutes, his hand to his stomach, trying to think of things as reasonably as he can.

Aaron doesn’t care that you’re a stripper. He might’ve at first. Denied his attraction to you, because of course he had feelings for you when you were standing against the side of the club in your dancing lingerie, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Every fool lucky enough to see you undressed must assume the same thing. He thought it wouldn’t work, and that you’d never be interested in a man like him.

Interviews for information lended themselves to rare moments of conversation. He liked how you talked, how your eyes moved to his, the way you watched his mouth. Your unusual friendship with Spencer drew you closer, and activated a rare seed of jealousy within him that helped him place you in his life. He had real, tangible feelings for you.

And now it’s over.

He scrunches his eyes closed and gets up from his desk. Puts his coat on, but leaves his things where they are on his desk.

“Hotch?” Morgan asks as he descends the steps down from his office into the bullpen.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“What happened?”

Aaron turns to Morgan, hiding his panic as well as he’s able to. “I have a small emergency. It’s fine. Can you make sure things are okay here?”

“Hotch?” Morgan asks again.

Aaron keeps on going. He tries your number again on the way down. Three times, a fourth by the time he’s at the parking garage.

The fifth time, you answer.

He almost breaks the phone, its plastic body creaking in his hand. “Honey?” he asks.

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Aaron. Is it hard to understand?”

He’s taken aback. Some part of him had held onto the hope that it was a mistake. “Yes,” he says slowly, struggling to pull his keys out as his car comes into view, “it is.”

“I don’t want to be with you.”

“Have I upset you?”

“Would that make it easier?”

“No. I don’t think anything would make it any easier. Honey, this feels so sudden. Can’t we talk about it?”

“I don’t want to see you.”

“Please.” He can’t imagine never seeing you again. Just a few days ago he was sitting at the dinner table with you laughing opposite, your socked toes brushing his ankle. “Please, give me the chance to fix this.”

“Aaron, it’s not really fixable. Please don’t call me again.”

“Y/N,” he says, firmer now. Anger leaks into his tone —what’s going on? “Let me come over. We need to talk about this.”

“No–”

“It’s not fair to me for you to do it over the phone.”

“…Okay. Fine. I’m at home, but I have work at six.”

“I’m on my way.”

He hangs up. Your terse allowance is all he needs to get in the car and drive, checking his watch. There’s plenty of time between now and six. He can figure out what’s wrong and hopefully change your mind.

He thinks about it more seriously as he’s parking outside of your place. Perhaps he doesn’t want to change your mind. You aren’t acting like you, none of your kindness can be found in such a swift dismissal, but he thinks of your foot under the table, your sock rubbing along his ankle without comment.

He takes the stairs to your apartment. It’s not the nicest place to stay, but it’s far from a slum, either. He doesn’t worry about you when you’re home beyond the usual everyday fears: Is she eating? Sleeping? Having a good day?

Now he’s thinking, What did I do?

He gets to your apartment and pauses at the threshold. After a moment's deliberation, he knocks.

“Come in, Aaron.”

He pulls down the handle and lets himself in. You’ve mail piled on the sideboard and your shoes tucked under it, a coat rack further in bragging scarves and coats and jackets of all different colours. He’s always liked the interior of your apartment. It doesn’t feel as cold as his own, parts of your personality peeking in through everything, from the flowered tiles in the bathroom to the glass lampshade in the bedroom.

You’re sitting in the kitchen with the light off. “Hey,” he says, voice already laden with relief he doesn’t mean to share.

“Hi.”

“Can I sit down?”

You gesture for him to do as he likes.

Aaron sits down at your table. It’s a small square just big enough to share dinner, plain wood edged in a darker slate grey outline. Sometimes when you’re feeling especially pretty, you’ll lean heavily on an elbow and grin at him, enticing him in for a kiss.

“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly.

“I just think we’re… at the end of our relationship.”

You don’t sound truthful. He knew there was something strange in your voice over the phone.

“What’s making you feel that way?”

“Does it matter?”

Again, avoiding and evasive.

He meets your gaze unflinchingly. “I care about you. I love you,” he says. “I know I can’t be who you pictured for yourself, and if you really can’t see a future for us, then… I’ll have seen it alone. I just wish I could understand this sudden change. Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re not who I picture for myself,” you agree.

“No?” he asks.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I can’t see us together. We’re not the right fit.”

You twist a ring around your middle finger. He thinks he’s starting to understand. “Do you think we’re not the right fit?”

“Please don’t use your psychoanalysis on me.”

“It’s not psychoanalysis, sweetheart, it’s– I know you.” He grimaces. “I’d like to think I do. And I’m allowing myself the audacity to believe you were happy with me just a few days ago. What happened between then and now to change your mind?”

You stare at your two-toned table. Your mouth opens to talk, little but air making it out. Your shoulders begin tightening like you’ve been keyed between them, twisting and twisting.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask.

Dramatic, he’d hope you could say you don’t love him, or don’t care about him enough to let him convince you the rest of the way. “Is this really what you want?” he asks instead.

Your staring turns to squinting. With a start, he watches a small tear drip from the corner of your eye to your nostril, to your cupid's bow.

“No,” you say carefully, “it’s not what I want. I don’t like you being against me.”

“Then what’s making you feel this way?”

You cover your eyes with one hand. “I wanted to do this over the phone,” you say in a squeeze.

He reaches for you but doesn’t touch. “I couldn’t let you.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say, so high he can barely understand you. “I’ll never be like you, Aaron. You’re so smart, and you’ve done so much. You’re a hero, and you must look so stupid with me. What do you think people say when they realise what I am?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what they say. I know you, and they don’t.”

“What about what I think?”

“What do you think?”

You wipe your face roughly, eyes lit with an anger he’s unprepared for. “I told you, don’t psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to have to explain it, I just want to say what I have to say. I don’t want to be with you because you won’t be happy, and neither will I.”

Aaron isn’t too prideful to recognise when he needs to fight for what he wants. He reaches over the table and takes your arm into his hand, picking it up, feeling down The length of it until he’s curled his hand over your smaller fingers. “We are happy,” he says softly, giving your hand a small shake. “I understand where you’re coming from. When we first met, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be here with you now. I do wonder what people think when they ask me what you do and I tell them you’re a performer. I know we agreed to it, but there are moments where I feel like I’m being cruel to you. But just because there’s a stigma surrounding what you do, it doesn’t mean that you’re any lesser than me. You’re not less intelligent, or less accomplished. We chose different paths and I’m glad we did. If you weren’t a dancer I never would’ve met you.”

“Do you know how it feels for me to come home to you sometimes?” you ask weakly.

“I’d hope it feels as it does for me. Every time I see you, I’m relieved.”

“Aaron, I get this rush of safety, like you’re– I’m finally safe. I can take care of myself, you know that, but now I have you it’s that I don’t even want to. And that’s stupid. I know that that’s stupid.”

“What I’m thinking,” he says, soft, not as worried about being without you now as he is of the horrible way you’re feeling, “is that you’ve thought about all of this a lot. I’m glad you’ve taken time to reflect on us and your life, but I wish you’d thought more about what we both want.”

“I want you to be happy,” you argue, as you had a few moments ago.

“And I’m never happier than when we’re together.” He shrugs. “Love isn’t about work. Your job shapes you as mine shapes me, but you have to know that who you are is what’s important.”

“I don’t know who I am…”

“I know exactly who you are,” he says, rubbing a loving thumb over your knuckles.

“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, on the phone. I knew if I talked to you like this I’d be too much of a coward to really see it through.”

“I see. You’ve planned my heartbreak weeks in advance.”

You shake your head sadly. “Aaron, we’re not good for each other. You make me this awful, weak version of me, and I’m no good.”

“We have been nothing but happy since we met.” Aaron pulls your hand up and kisses the side of your wrist. He isn’t ashamed of you. He doesn’t make you weak, you aren’t. “I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it feels like we’re from different worlds, but it’s not that melodramatic. You’re my partner. I love you. It’s hard not to think about what others think of us, but I know exactly what I think of you, and I know what you think of me, too.”

You share a look.

“I’ve never heard you talk so much,” you say, your frown fading. “I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“When I thought I couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” you mumble.

“You aren’t embarrassing. Please, put the thought out of your head.”

“Thought out of my head,” you repeat, still mumbling as you flex your fingers, pushing them between his and intertwining your hands. You bring them linked to your forehead and take a heavy breath.

“Do you really want to break up?” he asks softly.

Your breath warms his arm. “No.”

“You can have the things you want, you know? I imagine that there are people who laugh when I tell them about you, but you have to know that their opinions would never matter to me.” He pulls his hand from your head to encourage you to meet his eyes. “No one else matters but me and you. We don’t have to factor in other people. We can just be together.”

“I’m not worth all the fuss,” you say under your breath.

“What, this fuss? Honey, a few weeks ago you cried in my lap because I got you that cake from the bakery. And you know what? I didn’t want you to cry, but getting to rub your back?” He chances a smile. “That made my night.”

“You like making girls cry.”

“Yes,” he says, trying not to grin like a fool as you stand from your chair and put yourself in front of him. He is no saint. He pulls you onto his thighs and wraps an arm around the small of your back, your legs either side of him. “That’s my goal in life, sweetheart.” His voice falls to a whisper as you hang your head against him, tip of your nose to a rough cheek. “Making you cry…”

Your arms creep to his neck. Resting on him, rather than hugging. He doesn’t mind, he’ll do the hard work.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s okay.” He turns your face with his to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s alright, honey, bumps in the road happen with everyone.”

“All my fault.”

“Maybe next time, if you feel so strongly about something, you can just extend me that little bit of faith and… know that I’m here for you. Even if it did mean we wouldn’t be together, it doesn’t have to be that you’re alone, making such a big decision. Valiant,” he adds, enjoying the warmth of you seeping into his shirt, his face, his neck where your wrist is laid against it. “You’re not a coward. But I wish you wouldn’t be this brave about breaking my heart.”

“Stop making me feel guilty.”

His laugh is a breath against your cheek. “No, it’s fine, isn’t it? Use me and abuse me.”

“Shut up. Stop, what is this weird guilt tripping you’re doing?” You laugh at his absurdity. “I’d never abuse you.”

“I know. Just step on me a bit.”

“Stop, stop,” you mumble, your voice turning slowly from self-pitying to honey, all that love for him he knew you still had like threads of gold shooting through it, “I don’t wanna step on you, I never would…”

“Just rough me up a little.”

“Never.” You press your face to his neck. “Thank you for not letting me do it.”

“I won’t let you go so easily.” His hand trails up your back, feeling the softness of you beneath your t-shirt. Fat, muscle, all of it familiar, and treasured by his touching.

He squeezes you rather tightly, then, but you don’t complain, you just sigh.

“It’s not that you’re not who I picture for myself, like I said before,” you confess, leaning all your weight against him, barely held up by your legs either side of him. “You weren’t, but I didn’t realise that I could have you. I didn’t really know men like you existed. I should’ve known I was looking in the wrong age bracket.”

“That’s not very nice. In my line of work they call that a feedback sandwich, honey. Something cruel between nice things to distract me.”

“Sorry. Just had to get it in.”

He considers your teasing a return to normalcy, guiding your head away from his with a hand to the back of your neck. “If this was a ploy to make me leave work early, consider it successful.”

“I know your attention usually falls to other places, Mr. Hotchner–” You burst into giggles as he pinches the back of your neck, but it’s only to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your parted lips as your laughter fades away.

You scrunch his shirt in your hand and kiss him nicely.

“Sorry,” you say.

“Forgiven.” Even if he did almost go into cardiac arrest at his desk. “I like begging to stay. It builds character.”

“How long will you be like this?” you ask, shaking your head slowly, your smile poorly hidden.

You’d needed a reminder, is all. Aaron isn’t solely business and sternness, he’s an idiot, your idiot, who likes to tease you, and doesn’t care who knows that. When he’s working he’s one person, and when he’s with you, he’s another. Both have their qualities and faults, but only one version is the one he needs to be with you.

“At my age it’s perfectly normal to have a young and beautiful wife,” he says. “You’ve seen some of the other Section’s worker’s wives.”

“I’m not that young,” you say.

“So you admit it?”

You reward him with a tired sigh, cuddling into his collar.

—

…I'll never be your beast of burden. So let's go home and draw the curtains…

Aaron’s humming from the bedroom. He knows every classic rock song to exist, every word to every Beatles song. When the chorus comes, he sings under his breath, but you can hear him regardless. “Am I rough enough, am I rich enough? I’m not too blind…” he fades off.

The music hums under your feet. Record player open on the floor, his Some Girls vinyl on the plate.

You press a hand down your side.

To inspire less worry on your part, you and Aaron are trying to be more open about the other sides of your lives. His work feels alien to you, and you worry that yours is dirty to him, despite reassurance that a job is a job. You know that already, but you can’t make yourself believe that he’s as happy as he could be if you were, say, a checkout girl.

You’d make a cute checkout girl, he’d said.

This is cute, too. Babydoll lingerie with feather edgings, starkly white against your skin. You fluff out the ends and neaten the crotch of your panties. Nothing is on show that shouldn’t be, but it’s still lingerie. It’s meant to excite.

“Honey,” he says, dulcet tone carrying to the bathroom, “are you stuck again?”

You laugh. “I bet you hope so.”

“That’s accusatory in nature.”

“I’m coming.” You give it a last glance in the mirror and head into the bedroom.

Aaron’s sat against your headboard, flowery pillowcases behind his head and back. He discards the little figurine he’d been playing with out of boredom and looks you up and down, corners of his lips curling.

“Home only,” he says.

“I knew you’d say that.”

“You look stunning.” His eyes seem darker. All pupil.

“I have to wear some of these at the club, Aaron, that’s why I bought them.”

Something in your voice makes him smile. “You said I could veto the ones that are too beautiful.”

“I said too slutty.”

“Honey, they’re all revealing in their ways. And I don’t have a problem with it…” He takes a breath. “Much. But some of these are meant for…”

“The man who loves me?”

“Exactly.”

He’d said something similar about the light blue set with darker flowers, the black set that showed the curves of your chest, and especially about the pink one-piece with white ribbons. That one gave him pause.

“Spin?” he asks.

One day it might bother Aaron that you dance, but for now he’s gently approving. Just wants you to be happy. So you do a little spin without any attempt to be sexy and beam when he whistles.

“Beautiful. Really, honey, that’s the nicest so far.”

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“This one was for you.”

He’d know if you were lying. “For me?” he says, in that tone bordering stern, as much of his professionalism as you’re used to hearing these days.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t,” he says, seductions gone as he tips his head back into a pillow patterned with lavender and peony. “Unless you’re done trying those on, I don’t want to hear it.”

“This is the last one.”

“In that case.” He covers his face with a cushion.

You look down. Your stomach is a little bloated from lunch, and you have a shaving rash on your left knee, but Aaron won’t mind. He never does. Without worry, you tread to the side of the bed and climb onto it, one leg over his lap. The last time you’d been sitting in his lap, you’d been teary-eyed and regretful. Fuck, what was I thinking? you ask yourself, slipping a hand under his rising shirt to feel his abdomen. It’ll never not be weird, the FBI man and his stripper girlfriend, but it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him and you.

You ease the pillow down his face.

“Are you blushing, Aaron?” you ask.

“Not purposefully.”

“You look a little… hot.”

“That makes two of us.”

It starts slowly. The heat of you atop him, the pillows moved out of the way. You didn’t expect him to stay unbothered as you paraded your new spoils, but his willpower is remarkable, and he only breaks when you let yourself settle on his lap. His big hand cups your face.

“That’s funny.” You lift up enough to be in kissing range, but don’t kiss. You just wait for him to react, holding your weight off of his chest.

He finds the small of your back and drags. Your gasp isn’t your own, a breathy, excited thing as he brings your face to his for a kiss. Your lips almost immediately part in anticipation of his eagerness, of his hand on the back of your neck, and the unflinching heat of his mouth as he turns his head. Your noses brush. He wades in deeper, his own breath already failing him as the bridges of your nose press hard.

They aren’t rough kisses, but there’s something desperate there. He holds you to him until he can’t, ushering you onto your back, his weight bearing down sudden and steady.

“I can’t believe I nearly lost you,” he utters, stroking your cheek, edging back in to kiss you before you can reply.

You wrap an arm behind his back and hike your leg, soft thigh naked and waiting for his touch. You didn’t nearly lose me, you think. To be lost, you’d have to be something worth losing, and you’re not sure you are, but Aaron?

“I don’t think you could,” you mumble, forcing him to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the line of your throat. He nips at your neck, a shudder racing through you.

“I have no intent of letting it come that close again, sweetheart.”

His hand dances up your side to the soft hill of your chest.

You hold the hair from his face and let him kiss you. He’s here to stay, no matter how odd a pairing you might make. You love him. That’s all he cares about.

“Want me to do that thing you like?” you offer softly, mildly playful.

He laughs into your neck. “No,” he says, “I think tonight is about you, hm? You’re all dressed up. I think that deserves a reward.”

You knew he’d like the white babydoll.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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1K notes · View notes

dhampir-dyke · 2 years ago

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#i cannot fucking believe that my half-baked psilocybin therapy is working. this is so crazy.......#less than 4 months ago i was incredibly suicidal and my depression + trauma kept me from doing basic shit. i couldnt fucking enjoy anything.#and now i take literally no medicine except a gram of psilocybin every month or so. and i hesistate to say its 'fixed' me bc i still have #a lot of issues and i still have bad days #BUT. my life is so much better now..... i can actually feel good when i do things i like. im able to get important stuff done much easier #and im having bad days instead of bad WEEKS. when my cptsd gets triggered its still horrific and debilitating but the come down from it is #much faster and im able to function properly sooner #today i managed to talk to my leasing office about moving in a few days earlier and they said yes!!! ive manage to pack a BUNCH #of my stuff into my car for when i start moving in tomorrow. ive made an important phone call!!!#i still had to jump through the hoop of executive dysfunction BUT. normally i have to go through an obstacle course of it #every time i do it i feel like i get a little bit better. i try to make a 'plan of attack' every time i take them.#make my place feel as comfortable and safe as possible. i keep a journal nearby and relaxing music playing. and i try to sortof like #i guess a mix of introspection + reparenting in a way. i go with the flow but i try to focus on a way of thinking thats unhealthy #and try to tease + pick apart the reasons its unhealthy; while also trying to replace it with a healthier way of thinking #if that makes sense??? all while just. idk. feeling safe and at ease.#and ill feel kinda weird for at most a day afterwards bc lets be real. its psychedelic mushrooms. but afterwards i just feel much #lighter and generally just more at peace?#maybe its bc of how vulnerable i am while in an altered mental state; it may replicate the vulnerability i experienced as a child.#but rather than be abused for being vulnerable im being gentle and kind to myself??? idek man its weird.#anyways thats the end of my rambling im just thinking outloud

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solxamber · 4 months ago

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⋆˚✿˖ Twisted Wonderland Masterlist I˖✿˚⋆

Masterlist II

Heartslabyul

Trash Novel Chronicles: System vs World - Riddle x reader

You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.

This is Love - Riddle x Reader

3 times he notices your acts of love and realizes it doesn't have to be grand and overdramatic like the movies, it could just be like this– sweet and considerate.

Dragon's Favorite Sacrifice - Trey x Reader

Trey finds himself volunteering to be the human sacrifice to you, an ancient dragon, in place of his siblings. What he didn't expect was to become your housekeeper instead of being eaten.

Cocoa Conspiracy - Trey x reader {Request}

He knew you as his partner, the love of his life, but he didn't realize your real identity: a spy vying for pastry destruction.

Donuts and Dark Arts - Trey x reader

All Trey wanted to do was deliver the bread he was supposed to and be on his merry way. Instead, he stumbles on you... in the middle of a ritual?

Birthday Party - Trey x reader {Request}

Trey is more worried than suspicious when you keep disappearing and acting suspicious. He gets more worried when the rest of heartslabyul join in. (Spoiler alert: he doesn't need to be)

Crisis Averted - Cater x reader

After a royal screw up, Cater is left scrambling trying to fix his mistake before you find out. Best part? You've known what he did from the start and you think it's hilarious.

Moments in Bloom - Cater x reader

Cater’s life is a perfect illusion, curated with smiles and snapshots. But beneath the surface, he wonders—what would it be like to be truly seen? To finally stop pretending and let himself bloom?

Forgiveness - Deuce Spade x reader

When Deuce accidentally breaks an item that you treasured, he's worries that he's broken your trust as well. But there's nothing that can't be fixed with a hug and an apology.

Savanaclaw

Knights and Oaths - Leona x reader

You come from a long line of knights that have served the rulers of the Savannah. But sometimes traditions are meant to change and the second prince is looking like someone worth changing them for.

Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona x reader

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

Burn Wild - Leona x reader

Always so close, yet so far away. Leona pushes it down—he keeps pushing and pushing, until one day, he lets it break.

Royal Scandal - Ruggie x reader (personal favorite)

You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.

Octavinelle

Shark Tanks and Shady Deals - Azul x reader

After narrowly dodging a one-way trip to the sharks, you've hit rock bottom, career-wise. Enter Azul: your friendly (totally-not-shady) talent manager. In a moment of desperation, you sign with him. Wait, he's actually really good at this. Like, too good at this. Maybe the near-shark experience was just the universe’s weird way of setting you up?

Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul x Reader

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

Love Bites - Floyd x reader

You like him quite a bit, you really do but you're really questioning your decisions after some time spent with him ends up sending you to the ER.

Match Made in Madness - Floyd x reader

Soulmates get updates of each other's lives through an overly enthusiastic dream narrator. What's worse is that your soulmate seems to be completely unhinged.

Witch, Please - Floyd x reader

You're the best witch to go to for getting the job done. Your potions? Absolutely foolproof. At least, that's what you thought until a certain Floyd Leech waltzed into your store.

Cakes and Crime - Jade x reader

After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.

Love in Contempt - Jade x reader

When you take your ex, Jade to court over a ceramic octopus, the reason he wants it so badly might be sweeter than you thought.

Scarabia

Recipe for Love - Kalim x reader

You know you can't cook, your cat knows you can't cook, everyone who has seen your lunch box knows you can't cook. So why is Kalim so insistent on eating the monstrosities you conjure?

Rest Assured - Jamil x reader

4 times you see Jamil nearing his breaking point and the 1 time you intervene.

Pomefiore

Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil x reader (personal favourite)

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think?

Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

Fairytales and Fever Dreams - Vil x Reader

When you decide to beg a fairy for help at your lowest point, you didn't expect that he'd decide to help you— at the cost of you making skincare for him.

Of Seashells and Sweet Nothings - Vil x Reader

You're cursed to love everyone except Vil, and he's cursed to love only you. And yet somewhere along the way, it seems the cursed gene has skipped you.

aka Merman! Vil x reader

Roommate Rumble - Vil x Reader

You and Vil end up as roommates due to administrative error. Unstoppable force (Vil's perfectionism) meets immovable object (your chaos). It ends up working out perfectly.

Date(?) Night - Rook x reader

Rook is convinced that you have feelings for him after your "date". You have no idea what he's talking about, considering that you've never been on a date with him.

Ruler of My Heart - Rook x Reader (personal favorite)

He has always pursued beauty, and he sees everything. But has he ever been seen?

Ignihyde

Coughing up Love - Idia x reader

You don't think much of it when Idia starts acting weird because let's be real, that seems to be his default around you. Wait are those flowers he's coughing up?

Reaper's Guide to Romance- Idia x reader

When reaper Idia Shroud is assigned to collect your soul, he can't help but come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to spare you.

Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want to Retire - Idia x reader

You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it. Now, as the villainess you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.

Hook, Line and Shy Guy - Idia x reader

Idia loves your shark tail. You think it's adorable.

Diasomnia

Kidnapped(?) - Malleus x reader

You were sick of the taxes imposed by the aristocrats in your already poverty stricken village. Your idea of a solution? Kidnap their young master , and make them reduce taxes as the ransom, of course. Only problem is that you went into the wrong manor and kidnapped the wrong young master.

How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader

You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird?

aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.

Trash Novel Chronicles: Accidentally Falling For a Fae Prince - Malleus x reader

When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.

How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus x reader (personal favorite)

Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.

aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.

Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey, it looks like he likes you too.

Others

Frights and Fancies - Skully J. Graves x reader

Doing Halloween prep with Skully! (This is Grim's Night before before Halloween) {written before the full event is out so might end up ooc}

Chasing Fairytales - Neige LeBlanche x Reader

Neige is convinced that you're either allergic to him specifically or he's done something to offend you with the way you're avoiding him. You're just trying not to get blinded by his smile.

Project Love - Rollo Flamme x reader

When your eccentric professor pairs you and Rollo up for a study on attachment types, you didn't realise how much it would change your lives.

Romance Roulette- Rollo Flamme x reader

You, Rollo's self-proclaimed bestfriend, have been trying to set him up with someone for the past few weeks. If all your plans fail, maybe you should do it yourself?

Homecoming - Rollo Flamme x reader

You come home after a long work trip. Rollo is happy to have you back.

Sweet Encounter - Rollo Flamme x reader

You really want the parfait that's exclusive to couples. So you you do what anyone would do, pretend a random stranger in the café is your partner of course.

Escape Route - Rollo Flamme x reader

You're stuck at a party that you frankly don't give a damn about. And Rollo Flamme looks like he would rather do anything else than be here, so you grab him and bounce.

Yours to Keep - Rollo Flamme x reader

Rollo is calm, collected and confident. Jealous? Rollo Flamme? No way! ...unless?

Stolen Kisses - Rollo Flamme x reader

5 times you kiss him and the 1 time he kisses you

Multi Characters

Hanahaki with Overblot Gang

Making Up After an Argument with Overblot Gang + Rollo

Period Simulator with Adeuce + Overblot Gang + Rollo

Requests

Rook Hunt x reader (Shape-shifter! reader)

Malleus Draconia x Reader (24 Plum Blossom User! Reader)

All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Chen'ya (Wild cat beastman reader)

Dorm Leaders + Jamil (Colorblind reader)

Idia Shroud x reader (Sentient Otome Game NPC! reader) // Part 2

Azul Ashengrotto x reader (Insecure Mer-form Azul x reader, hurt/comfort)

All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige (White Rabbit! reader)

White Rabbit! Reader overblots

Aftermath of White Rabbit! Reader's Overblot

Epel, Vil x reader (Teaching Epel Capoeira)

Vil, (platonic) Crewel x reader (Fashion disaster reader)

Rest of the characters react to fashion disaster reader

Malleus Draconia x reader(Insecure reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending)

Lilia Vanrouge x reader (NPC! Reader)

Pomefiore x reader (Artist!Admirer! reader)

Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Pomefiore + Che'nya (Absolem! reader)

Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Ignihyde, Diasomnia + NRC Staff + Neige (Absolem! reader)

Malleus, Vil, Jade with Angel!Reader

Jamil, Rook, Vil, Lilia with cherub! reader

Tweels with a strong reader

Idia x reader (Reader gets turned into a cat)

Jamil, Azul with a super talented reader

Lilia with a reader who behaves like General Lilia

Leona with an unhinged reader

Vil, Malleus with an unhinged reader

All NRC + Staff + Rollo (Reader shapeshifts according to emotion)

7th Overblot Aftermath - All NRC + Staff (Hurt/Comfort)

Rollo Flamme x reader / Part 2 / Part 3

Savanaclaw, Scarabia with a silly but mature reader

Ace, Deuce, Silver with artistic reader

Grim vs Cat (Idia x reader)

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with Pomefiore! reader

Jade, Jamil, Azul with 'The Cat'! Reader

Vil, Rook Idia with 'The Cat'! Reader

Delinquent Deuce x Delinquent reader

Pomefiore + Jamil with a Maternal! reader

All NRC(-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader

Trey, Jamil, Platonic Adeuce with Rich! reader

All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Najma Viper with Slime! reader

Skully J. Graves with a Huohuo! reader

Overblot gang + Ruggie with a Princess! Reader

Idia, Cater, Rollo comforting recovering reader (Warning: Mentions of SH)

Octavinelle with Shark! Reader

Sam x reader(platonic)

Skully J. Graves x reader (Double Halloween!)

Octavinelle, Diasomnia x Freshwater Stingray! Reader

Main Masterlist

#Masterlist #twst x reader

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago

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“No more coffee, dove.” Remus takes the cup away from you and takes the mocha pot off the stove.

“But Remmy,” you whine and your boyfriend just levels you a look.

He pouts at you, all mocking and teasing which makes you want to stomp your foot. “No ‘But Remmy,’ you’ve had three. You’re cut off, my love.”

You can’t even be mad at him when he calls you nice things and gives you a kiss for your troubles.

Still you try. Then keys jingle in the door and your ability to get your way seems sparked up again, even if by a soft flame.

“Hi my darlings, I’m home.”

You give Remus a look that lets him know what you’re about to do and he resigns himself with watching you bewitch James like that’s your actual job.

“Hi Jamie! How was the gym?” Remus leans on the kitchen counter and watches you fawn over James to set you plan in motion.

“Good lovie. How was work? Were you trouble for our Remmy?”

You shake your head and Remus scoffs. James looks at him over your head and Remus only gives him a wink.

“I was super good! Was it arm day today?” Your hands slide up to his shoulders and then down to his wrists.

James chuckles, dimples popping out at he flexes. Your hands squeeze at his arms as he flexes and when James leans down for a kiss you really put the moves on him.

Your hands bury themselves in his still wet curls, tugging a little as you let James kiss into your mouth.

When you pull away, “Can you make me a fancy coffee, please baby?”

Remus rolls his eyes, “I just told you no, dove. You’ve had three.”

James looks down at you, a little smile on his face. “That true, angel?”

You scowl, “I really feel like I need a caffeine kick to get through the rest of my work. It won’t take long to wear off, either James. Swears.”

James doesn’t believe that part. The sun’s setting now and you really shouldn’t be having another cup of coffee.

He and Remus have spent many a night up with you while you all wait for the remnants of the caffeine leave you - not that they mind for themselves, they just don’t like you unable to sleep when it’s three in the morning and you’ve got to wake up at six.

You pout at him, holding onto his forearms as you stare at him with your best puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, let me go take a shower and I’ll fix you up one.”

You turn to Remus and stick your tongue out at him when James swats at your bum quickly making you hiss. “Oi!”

Remus only shakes his head as James passes you by to kiss Remus. “Jamie she really shouldn’t-“ James gives Remus another kiss, placating him completely.

For all his cheekiness, James had a subtle way of putting Remus at complete ease with just a kiss. “Be back in ten my loves.”

“You’re a brat.” Remus says playfully as James bounds the stairs and you give him a smug shrug as you sit at the table and start typing away at your work.

James comes back down and heads to the kitchen and starts making your drink. You hear all the wizzing and wowing of his fancy coffee routine and when he brings you a mug you look pleased as punch.

You take a sip and frown, looking up at James with betrayal all over your face.

“Decaf, Jamie?” It’s Remus’ turn to be smug, you dislike it on him entirely.

“Yes lovie. It’s too late for full caffeine and you’ll have been bouncing off the walls if I’d made one for you and wouldn’t have slept tonight.”

You just stare at him, James walks over to the table and kisses you. He can’t stand your pouty face. “I’ll make you a real fancy one in the morning before I head to practice, yeah?”

He pecks your lips when you don’t answer, and again when you hardly kiss back. James keeps at it until you giggle which is only three more kisses. He savors the kisses and your giggle.

“Yeah, Jamie.”

Remus comes to the table to meet you two, “What about my kisses?”

You pretend to think about it before kissing Remus lips, pecks following a sloppy trail all over his cheeks making him blush.

“Love you, Remmy.”

He smiles, turning your face so he can kiss your lips again. “I love you too, dove.”

James pouts, both you and Remus kiss his cheek before he can even ask.

“We love you Jamie. Loads and loads.”

He smiles, a megawatt spotlight really, and kisses you both back.

“What are you thinking of for tea? A chippy?” James asks, hand in Remus’ hair and on your cheek as you look down to your laptop and save your work.

There’s no point in trying to do any of it now that you’re all home. “Yeah, can I have cod this time? Didn’t fancy the haddock last time.”

Remus nods, “Anything you want, lovely girl.” James is already on the phone placing everyone’s orders, not forgetting everyone’s add-ons.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 years ago

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UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

#aita #am i the asshole #aita update #the saga of proposal anon

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smileysuh · 1 year ago

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after the seminar

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.

tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k

🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.

Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you.

Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.

As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’

“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit.

Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends.

Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.

Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.

You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.

“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.

“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again.

“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again.

You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.

“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”

“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”

Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.

He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how.

You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.

“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.

“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.”

Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.”

“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”

“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”

“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”

“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”

You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.

This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh.

“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”

“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.”

Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing.

“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.”

This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”

“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”

“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”

The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest.

What was Wonwoo interested in?

He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate.

“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks.

Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”

Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere.

You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips.

The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh.

You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again.

The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.

God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles.

“Thank you,” you grin back.

“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”

Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details.

“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.”

“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”

“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins.

“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?”

Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”

“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way.

“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him.

Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”

Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.

You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.

“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.

“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.

You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together.

You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.

“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess.

Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes.

There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.

“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts.

You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.

“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”

To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”

This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.

“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”

You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one.

Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.

“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”

“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”

“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.

“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs.

It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin.

In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.

He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated-

God, you want him so bad.

You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.

It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library.

Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence.

As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.

You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust.

Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.

You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market.

Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are.

You need him so badly.

That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup.

You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core.

The conversation reaches a lull, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”

“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.

“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm.

He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right.

“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug.

Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you.

“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.

With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies.

Now you’re really turned on.

Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.

As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”

“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.

“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.

“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”

“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.

Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.”

“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.

“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.

“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”

“More than you realize.”

Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.

He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.

You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.

“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.

You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.

“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.

You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.

“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure.

“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already.

It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-

It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.

Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these.

“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-

“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.”

One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you.

If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.

He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.

Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.

“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again.

You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.

“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts.

In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?

When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.

“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby.

“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.

His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness.

When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through.

Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”

His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.

Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.

Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately.

You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.

Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”

“Fuck-”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.

“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”

You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit.

You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”

The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair.

“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.

You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words.

Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.

You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.

“Honey-” he groans.

You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”

“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet.

He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-

The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.

His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.

As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole.

Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.

You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.

Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.

He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.

He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.

It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.

“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks.

You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.

Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious.

Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.

There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.

Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.

“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.

“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”

“Of course, just tell me when.”

“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”

Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat.

“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-

“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.

The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy.

He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly.

You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.

When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”

Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”

“Yes, please.”

Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”

“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.

“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.”

Your entire body tingles with excitement.

While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.

“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.

“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”

“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.

“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.

Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”

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🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc. I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.

“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight.

Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement.

You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you.

Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.”

His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.

Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds.

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.

The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“Is this…”

“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”

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