#i’ve got an hour and a half left. let me out
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caustinen · 3 days ago
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Callum's LV campaign is sooo #hollywood au coded!
I know Gale is too shy but arghghgh can you imagine them in a brand campaign? Or Vogue photoshoot? Dayum.
oh oh oh how i’ve missed this au, thank you for this!!!! since i already headcanoned gale would feel to awkward posing i’ll let everyone decide for themselves if this is au of an au or did john manage to talk him into it after they did their private photoshoot 🤭
we’re trying another social media au today!! idk if it works in this format but i hope you enjoy <3
@_vogue_
EXCLUSIVE: ”He keeps me wanting to be better, as a human and as an actor” — Be the first two see new exclusive pictures of John Egan and husband Gale Cleven-Egan posing for this month’s #VOGUE cover shoot in brand new Louis Vuitton! ❤️‍🔥
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@_hollyB34: sigh since vogue didn’t bother with alt texts i’ve got you covered (but we expect more from you @_vogue_ get your shit together)
photo 1: john leaning at a wall in white coat facing the camera, gale is on his right as if walking away but they’re holding hands
photo 2: picture taken from the side, gale leaning against the wall with right hand on the elbow of the left one and looking away from the camera, john has his right hand on the wall next to his head and he’s staring down at him kind of towering over him crowding him into the wall
photo 3: close up of their hands holding the same louis vuitton bag, john’s fingers looking much bigger than gale’s delicate hand, two of john’s fingers streches to cover gale’s
photo 4: standing side by side, john’s arm around gale’s shoulders and gale is holding that hand with one of his and the other is wrapped around john’s middle, they’re looking at each other.
photo 5: close-up of just their faces, gale is holding the back of his hand to his lips and covering laughing, john is staring at him with the worst case of heart eyes you’ve ever seen, he’s also smirking
photo 6: john staring at the camera, hands on gale’s waist, gale’s back is facing the camera and he’s leaned into john’s torso, cheek resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his middle. Keep reading…
@_clegan4ever: did i die. is this heaven.
@_rosiecheeks: if someone told me a year ago clegan would actually drop this kind of blessing upon us i would’ve laughed them out ALAS HERE WE ARE HOW ARE WE FEELING
@_egansgrl: why does that bag photo look POSESSIVE it’s literally just hands asdf like chill man ain’t no one taking him away from you
@_adamadam: it’s literally insane how the two most attractive people in the world found each other??? and actually seem like a good match???
@—keirak77: no offense to egan but damn his hubby should be a model fr
@_€urovizion: gale would literally tower over me HOW DOES HE LOOK SO TINY NEXT TO HIM john do be built like a brick house
@_cleganists: i want to cry the fact that they’re willing to share this with us despite of everything they’ve been through with the media over the years :((((
@_buckholic: THANK HEAVENS THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING THESE TWO MEN
@_ourbaby82: john is serving so hard i’m amazed the camera didn’t just melt
@_CLEGANUPDATES: #clegan has been trending worldwide for 6 hours
@_marymecurtb: so much to unpack here but like the sexiest part of this is literally the way they look at each other. like how are you together for like a decade and still be this down bad for each other omg
@_misscleven: i wouldn’t mind being squished in the middle of this sandwitch
@_johnegans: oh damn that gale cleven-egan truly is the finest piece of ass i ever saw on a cover of a magazine that john egan is one lucky bastard
@_CLEGANUPDATES: ASDFHAFAHAJAVAJSK JOHN LMAO
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
”John?” ”Yes, dear?”
John doesn’t look up from his phone from where he’s half laying across their bed waiting for Gale to be ready. They’re seeing Sabrina for her LA show tonight, and Gale has helped him with the glitter on his face before disappearig back to the bathroom to get ready himself.
Gale’s tone is filled with suspicion but not accusing — yet. ”Do you happen to know why John Brady has called me 12 times?” John makes an exaggerated ”thinking face”, and he can practically feel Gale squint his eyes at him. ”…No idea. You’ve been friends with him longer, your guess is better than mine!” Gale looks at him for a moment more before talking again.
”Mm-hm. Somehow I get the feeling he’s calling not as my friend but as your publicist.”
John finally looks up and he can’t help but let his face fall into a smirk as he sees Gale assessing at him with his eyes. He gets up from the bed and walks up to his husband who’s still following him with his eyes. ”Who knows? Probably phoning to congratulate us on a beautiful photoshoot.”
He delights in the blush on Gale’s cheeks, visible even underneath the glitter hearts. He looks adorable, and delicious, and John can’t wait to see his current favorite popstar but he also can’t wait to get back home with his hubby and try whatever position she suggests during Juno with him.
”Oh yeah, that came out today…” Gale mutters and looks down, and while the blush truly is so cute, John knows they need to get going soon. He tilts Gale’s face back up by his chin and pecks on his lips gently.
”They love it. They love you.” He considers it for a moment, getting lost in Gale’s eyes, before smirking again dropping his hand to squeeze his ass. ”I think I even recall someone calling you the hottest piece of ass they’ve ever seen on the comments.”
Gale rolls his eyes. ”That’s not what I- Nevermind.” He sighs and pushes John away but his husband can tell the blush is a pleased one now. One day he will make him believe how beautiful he is and he won’t need these constant reminders (John’s gonna keep giving them anyway, of course).
”Should we get going then?” He asks casually, and Gale has just had time to nod when his phone starts ringing again. He checks the ID and frowns. ”It’s Brady again. I’ll get this and then we can go.”
Bucky responds with a seemingly careless uhm but grimances as he turns to face the other way. He’s just made it to the door when the scandalized yell of JOHN CLARENCE EGAN fills the air.
”I’ll wait at the car sweetheart!” he yelps back and starts running. He even makes it down two sets of staris before Gale manages to tackle him down.
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gristlegrinder · 6 months ago
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they’re just a little guy, officer. they’ve done nothing wrong in their life ever—
trapped at work for seven hours. send help
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icterid-rubus · 2 months ago
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I agreed to meet up with someone for dinner and I just found out the whole polycule is coming.
#jeeeesuuuuuusssssssss. like I don’t even want to meet her let alone the throuple.#I didn’t know it was possible to come on too strongly platonically until now. chill please.#I’ve met her 1.5 times and get multiple daily messages and if I don’t answer I still get ‘HAI!!!’. I want to step in front of a bus this is#stressing me out so badly. I already said before I couldn’t meet. I said I couldn’t go to dinner. then I went to a local meet up and saw#her at the end of the table. I waved at sat at the other end but tried to not really engage. I feigned difficulty hearing over the din. she#started texting me. At the end she came up and was like ‘it’s too noisy here’ and I agreed and left then BEFORE I GET HOME I get a text#TELLING ME when she can go to dinner. I did not suggest we meet somewhere quieter.#she brought someone from the polycule with her to the event and they were just. so dejected and sullen and wouldn’t really acknowledge me#when she tried to introduce us at the start. why why why why. I don’t want to do this.#all because she asked about my sexuality and I got a little too open being glad to speak with another queer lady for like half an hour on#insta. if I could go back in time I would not have responded. this is just insane to me. I regret that so much this is going to suck ass.#my social anxiety is causing such a spiral right now.#it’ll be fine. it’ll be fine. maybe I’ll have fun. I just hate getting spammed messages online and I hate meeting up other strangers.
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exopelagic · 6 months ago
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ohhhh my supervisor is so sick of me
#which is annoying as FUCK because this guy is most of the reason why I’m so behind rn#he’s getting a plane later today and so was frustrated that I kept asking questions#when this is kinda the first chance I’ve had to ask most of my questions and actually get a response#which. incidentally. is why my draft sucks and I have a week and a half left to finish it#but man yeah like 20 minutes into the meeting I stop to ask if there’s anything else he wanted to say#bc he had a bit at the start but the man never stops talking so I took a brief silence as a way to start grilling him and didn’t let up#for ~15 minutes. and he’s like yeah I wanted to check some stuff before my flight later today#I am aware flights are stressful but sir you have been doing less than the minimum for weeks and making my life hell#you can handle half an hour of talking to me#like I had no idea how I was meant to write this!! I’ve asked and he brushed me off!! and nobody else explains it#bc your supervisor is meant to!! so from the comments on the draft and grilling him I’ve only just figured out#what the fuck I’m actually meant to be writing#I also gave up on not talking over him bc he does to me and if I don’t cut in he will talk for 20 minutes straight#AND HE TALKS OVER ME. I keep forgetting that part#but god rn in every aspect of this I’m just scrambling to get as much done as possible which means everything is a mess#but first draft by Monday now (I’ve set my OWN goal to have everything figured out at least by Friday night so I can just be refining shit)#I’ve had a Lot of first drafts at this point huh.#I think. I need to break this down again so that I can get some sense of accomplishment here#luckily I just got a new structure!#god I just realised one of the things I asked him was abt restructuring some objectives. so now half of what Ive written is gonna be changed#I have so much editing to do. and so much writing to do. someone pls help me#luke.txt
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milo-is-rambling · 6 months ago
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Weight talk tw I guess idk how to describe the post sorry im a little high
It’s so weird being around people who talk about weight problems (IOP) and like idk it brings up weird shit in my brain almost anxiety that I should feel bad about myself somehow like I’m doing this wrong being confident idk. Weird self doubt thing that happens when you’ve loved yourself (hmm. Rephrase. I don’t care about being fat. let’s say that.) and then you’re in a room full of people having a group discussion about how they avoid living their life in happy ways because they don’t want to become like you. But you love yourself. But everyone in your life since you were little has been dieting and talking about weight and specific numbers (someone was anxious about gaining seven pounds! SEVEN. If they saw my scale they would shit themselves. I put on seven pounds taking a big bong rip Jesus fucking Christ seven pounds. I wanted to rip my hair out.)
Next time weight issues come up in IOP I’m stepping out of the room. Like idk how to explain it cause it’s like not a trigger but I guess it is ? But it’s just so weird like the way I’m triggered makes me want to cry why does the world hate me for being fat what the fuck !!!!
#me when I gain weight issues through thinking about my own body in a group setting#ughhh#whatever fuck it#taking an anxiety med chavas at work Levi’s on a train (EXCITED!!!!) I’m gonna take my little sedative friend and try to take a nap bc six#and a half hours after the last two days I’ve had is fucking nothing. going to nap city will fix me.#also taking my morning med. I haven’t done that yet I need to eat *stares into camera* to take my meds gahhhh I hate having a human form an#intestines just take the med with one cracker and not get sick what the fuck body I’m so sick of heart burn I want to burn down the world#and now that I’ve had a med increase I get fucking withdrawal symptoms if I miss a morning dose which I found out bc I left my meds at home#accidentally on Monday when I was so overtired and forgot to put them back in my bag for IOP (cause they have food at IOP so I take them#there once I’ve eaten) and then I had a headache for like half of the day and I was so overtired I was crying on the drive home cause I#wanted to sleep so bad and then I got home and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up even on the sleep meds until I talked to kath and she#calmed me down just existing the little sweetheart god I love her okay anyways babble over I’m very overtired and a little cranky and my#brother has been in a very bitchy mood recently idk what’s got him on edge but everything is setting him off into little fights like not#just with me he was fighting with mom this morning he’s just kick to getting worked up recently which leads to me being angry wanting to be#rude which means do the opposite which means show extra compassion woohoo coping skills 🗣️🗣️#anyways. post panic attack sedative nap (my beloved) or perhaps work on editing my vlog#I’m high ​ I forgot you can’t hit comma on tags. edit my vlog. vacuum. (I always spell vacuum with two c’s and not two u’s and I think#autocorrect should not correct me on that one bc I think I am right in my soul idk why#there’s another word I’m like that with but I forget what it is . okay bye thank you for listening to my type words goodbye goodnight mwah#it’s ​nap time babyyyyyy#idk if I have to trigger tag this ? someone let me know if I do please
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lis-likes-fics · 3 months ago
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Casual
Pairing: bff!Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 12.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, protected sex (birth control), virginity loss, friends with benefits, Eddie talks you through it, constant consent, humor during sex, Eddie calls you "mama" but no mommy kink, fondling, slight hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, a million different positions, slight edging?, L-bombs but not romantically, swearing... A/N: So I wrote this as a best friends with benefits thing and not a best friends to lovers, but the line gets blurry sometimes with besties. I really fucking loved this one because they're like...they literally never stop being besties, they're so fucking dumb, I love them. So yeah, this is platonic in the least platonic way possible, and I love that for them. Thank you so much and enjoy! A/N #2: While I was writing the first author's note, my typing kept popping my ears. *cries in adhd like a little bitch*
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Eddie finds you in his bedroom doorway moments after hearing the front door close. He half expected Wayne to be coming back home early from work, but that didn’t make sense because he only left an hour ago and he probably would have called ahead.
But, no. You stand there with damp hair from a fresh shower and dressed down in some shirt you stole from his drawer and pajama pants. He raises a brow. He hadn’t been expecting you, but he isn’t surprised in the slightest. He doesn’t even bother to move from his spot, leaning back on his bed with an arm behind his head and a book in his hand.
“Hey, there,” he mumbles.
You stare at him for a while, saying absolutely nothing. You don’t seem particularly pleased. He stares back. Neither of you move.
“I’m upset,” you finally say, still staring, still standing.
If Eddie’s remembering correctly, you’re supposed to be out on a date. So hearing that you’re upset isn’t necessarily pleasing to him. Judging by the time, you should have had a very entertaining night. But apparently not.
He’s the first to move as he lets his book fall down to his lap. “Why?”
You think for a moment and then drop your stuff at his door, walking inside as you use your foot to close the door. There’s a long pause between speaking, as you use it to walk around his room and look at all of his stuff. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” You pick up a random pepper shaker on his desk, swirling it around and then turning on your heel to look at him.
He’s got his head tilted to his shoulder with a look on his face that reads “seriously?”. He sits up, lifting a brow. “I’ve seen and learned a lot about you since we became friends, so I doubt there’s anything you could do or say to embarrass yourself in front of me.”
You roll your eyes, licking your lips as you set the pepper shaker down again. “Okay, well…” you trail out, trying to decide how you want to tell him. “You know how I had that date?”
He puts his book away, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows. “The drive in?”
“The drive in.”
“What about it?”
“Well…” you sigh. “Okay, so…” You lick your bottom lip, trying to form the words. You’re never shy in front of him, so there must be something wrong. You chew on your lip, thinking to yourself with a heavy sigh. You plop down onto the bed next to him. “God, so, we got there and the movie was fine and whatever–” you roll your eyes, “–and we watched most of it but at some point, we started, like, kissing, and whatever, right?”
Eddie shrugs, laying back to stare at the ceiling as you continue to recount your night. “Yeah.”
“And it got a little…”
He raises a hand to prompt you, “Hot and heavy?”
“Yeah.” You look down at your lap where you fiddle with your fingers. “So we drove away somewhere more…more private?”
He looks at you, sitting back up enough to fully see your face as he smirks lightly. He gives you this devilish look that makes you want to hit him. “Did you...?”
You nod a little. “Yeah.”
Swallowing thickly, you watch his face shift as he takes in your demeanor. His head slumps to one side, his smirk falling off his face. “Oh…” he mumbles. “How do you feel?”
You stare at him. He can see you mulling over your response as you struggle to find the right words. Despite yourself, you feel a knot tying itself in your throat. You force it down and away, pretending it’s not there and hoping it’ll help. And it does…for now, at least.
“I’m upset.”
He cringes a little, lifting an arm to give you a place to lean into him. “That bad?”
You bury your face in his shoulder and pout. “Yeah.” You pull away suddenly. “I mean, I know everyone’s first time sucks ass and whatever, but, like…” You drop your head in your hands, wiping at your face as you find yourself glad for washing your makeup off earlier. “Eddie, I didn’t even…”
He almost seems offended. He doesn’t care about announcing it because you’re alone and also it’s outrageous. “You didn’t cum?”
“No!” you exclaim. “I…faked it.” You’re almost disgusted with yourself for it. It sort of just happened in the moment. He was clumsy in trying to get you there, but it wasn’t working. You just wanted to end it off and move on, so you just…made the sounds and the faces. He seemed pleased enough. “I feel kinda bad. I mean, he was sweet and all, and he, like… He tried, but…”
His question is crude with as little hesitation as humanly possible. Again, he doesn’t care about being awkward or guarded because you’re his best friend, and you’ve talked about worse, and there’s no filter with you. “How big was he?”
“Eddie, what?” Usually you wouldn’t mind his brashness, but you’re still trying to get over the events of a couple hours ago.
“Honest question,” he shrugs. “I just wanna know. Was he like…” he lifts his hand, squinting his eyes and hunching over and pinching his fingers together, “little?”
You shrug. His bluntness is rubbing off on you. You feel a little less awkward and you hunch a little less. “He was fine…just a little too…short? To reach?”
He makes a face, like he’s shocked and disgusted. He looks you up and down almost like it’s your dick. “That’s rough,” he says. “How many times did he cum?”
“Why do you assume he came?” you raise a brow.
He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Please, guys always cum.”
You roll your own eyes and push yourself off the bed. You’re roaming his room again as you mess with all of his stuff. You open his drawer and ruffle through his unfolded clothes, you pick up empty beer cans and turn up your nose at the smell, you strum the strings of his acoustic. You do all of this instead of looking at him when you answer. “Twice.”
“Oh.” You fake disgust when he looks at you, smirking and bobbing his brows at you. “You must’ve been really fuckin’ nice.” He makes this weird growling sound, and the “ew” that comes out of you is guttural. He snorts happily, and then his humor is gone as he deadpans, “Or he’s a lightweight. Did he cum inside?”
You’re sick of him.
You shake your head. “I made him wrap it.”
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“Yeah.” He hums.
He watches you lean back against his desk, looking at this weird mask he had just sitting among the chaos. You move it around in your hands and force down the heat in your throat at the recounting going on in your head. Swallowing it down is a hard task that ultimately fails as he watches you begin to choke on the unshed tears.
He sighs, his chest warm with a bitter emotion as he watches your waterline threaten to spill over. “Oh, c’mere.” He stands from the bed, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bone crushing hug. It’s warm and it hurts and it feels so nice. He smells like he always does, green apple shampoo stolen from your house and cheap cologne and cigarettes. It’s a nice smell.
“I guess I like…I don’t know, I expected a little more. It was…really disappointing.” A couple of tears manage to get past you, and it pisses you off but you’re already over it. “I wanted…to get rid of it, and now it’s gone but it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but it also feels like everything’s changed, but not in a good way.”
He rubs your back, listening to you as you need him to listen. “I’m sorry,” he mutters when you stop. He sets his chin atop your head after a kiss to your forehead. Part of him wants to square up with the dude you went out with, but he sets that urge to the side in order to comfort you. “That fuckin’ sucks, and you deserve so much more.”
After a moment, you pull away from him, wiping at your face with a huff. “It’s stupid.”
“S’not stupid.”
You don’t argue, you just throw yourself onto his bed, laying flat on your back with your arms and legs spread so wide that you take up nearly all the space left. Eddie watches you lay there with your eyes closed and your breath slowed. He thinks you’re really pretty, especially right now with you wearing his shirt. He almost hates himself for thinking to ask–
“Look, it might be…creepy and weird to ask and—Jesus, if I’m being creepy, I want you to fuckin’ punch me s hard as you can—but, shit, maybe I should shut up.”
His rambling is cut off by you, still lounging on his bed. You haven’t moved, your eyes are still closed. You don’t seem fazed at all by his awkwardness. “What are you about to ask me, Ed?”
He sighs, sitting next to you with his foot shoved underneath him. He sets his hand on your thigh. You still don’t move, used to his touchy-communication. “What happened tonight fuckin’ sucks–”
“You say ‘sucks’ a lot.”
“It’s a nice word.”
You peek at him through one opened eyes. “You’re weird.”
“Nevertheless–” You laugh. He watches your belly tense as you do it, rolling over to sit up and witness his fumbling with opened eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…”
You laugh again, and he’s happy he could do that for you, especially after your rough night. You’re happy you could ease his worries, because he was being awkward, and Eddie isn’t usually awkward with you, and you know he likes your stupid jokes.
He takes a breath and starts again. “What happened sucks, and—only if you want to—I would be willing—if you’re comfortable—to…fix it for you.”
You raise a confused brow, less confused and more vaguely unbelieving. “Fix it…for me?” you echo.
He shrugs. “I don’t like when you cry, and I want to make you feel better. I’m not a total expert on sex, but I think I know my way around it pretty well.” He puts his hands together like he’s going to pray and points them toward you. “If you want…I can help.”
You raise a brow and stifle the smirk threatening to grace your lips, ready to tease him in order to push down the flush of heat rushing through you. “You wanna fuck me.”
He raises his hands. “I want to fuck you if you want me to fuck you. To help. But I’d love to fuck you… if you want…me to fuck you.” There’s a pause. “Maybe.”
You look away, scratching your head in thought. “Since when have you wanted to fuck me?”
He smacks a hand down onto your thigh just to do it. “Babe, it’s always been on the table. All you had to do was ask.” Whore.
You roll your eyes for the millionth time. “You’re such a guy.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care at all. “Like I said, guys always cum.”
You raise a brow at him, shoving his hand off your knee to stand again. You jab an accusatory finger into his chest. “Is that to insinuate that you’ve cum thinking about me?”
“I– Okay, I did not– Listen here, you little shit.”
You laugh out loud, still pointing at him to make fun. “I’m kidding!” He fake laughs, and you return the favor by tilting your head and questioning him further. “But have you?”
To avoid it being awkward, he just shrugs nonchalantly and answers the question. “A couple times.” It works, even though you flush at the answer.
“What? That is so weird!”
“That is not weird.” He hopes you ignore the way his cheeks turn pink, powering through it with more brashness and more jokes. “It is completely normal to think of your best friend when you’re cranking one out.”
You shake your head definitely. “No, it’s not.”
He challenges you. “Have you ever cum thinking about me?”
Without turning your head, you glance away from him. “I don’t think that makes it normal.”
“So you have, is what I’m hearing.” You turn to him quickly, raising a finger as you try to speak over his ad libbing. He thinks he’s really funny, and it’s gonna make you scream.
“Listen–”
“Listening.”
You huff, glancing away and then looking back at him. Well, not really him, but the ends of his hair over his shoulders. “Maybe once or twice…” you shrug, “Maybe even thrice, but that’s not–”
“You little freak!” He points his finger at you, his whole face wide with amusement.
“Hey– Be nice to me. Or I’ll cry. You don’t like it when I cry.” You pout to give him a preview. You’re sure you could summon more tears if you really need to…
“You’re evil,” he shakes his head, looking up at you with a huge grin.
You bob your brows. “Yes, I am.”
He surprises you. In the next moment, his arms are wrapped around your midsection, and your feet lift off the ground. He takes you in his hold and turns you until you’re being slammed into the bed. You laugh as you bounce, squirming around to push him off of you as he pins you under his weight. Both of you are giddy with the amusement, laughing at each other and playing along with the other’s fun.
When you open your eyes and the laughter dies down, you realize that he’s actually pinning you to the bed. It sobers you up almost immediately, and you realize that he’s really close. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to. You notice the exact moment he realizes it, too.
You gulp and take a breath for courage. Your voice is small—awkward—but it’s okay because he’s your best friend. “You can…” you mumble. “You can help, if you want to help.”
His eyes glance at your lips, and then he raises both his brows as he looks back at you. “You want me to?”
You nod, trying not to hold your breath to avoid dulling the charged air between you. “Yes, I want you to.”
He tilts his head and the tips of his hair tickles your cheek. “Is it because I have you pinned?”
“It helps.”
Eddie backs off of you, sitting back on his bed to allow you to sit back up. You do, crossing your legs underneath you. He thinks for a moment, watching you as he does. There’s a long pause where the both of you contemplate something, unsure if the other has the same thing in mind.
“Before we do anything,” he breaks the silence carefully and articulately, and you can see the moment that all his seriosity has set in, “I need explicit permission. And you gotta let me know how you’re feeling. I don’t wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
You listen intently, nodding along as he lays down the rules. “Okay,” you say.
He tilts his head toward you, looking up at you through his bangs. His brown eyes are so pretty. You’ve always thought so. They’re so warm and loving, just like him. It’s the reason you became his friend in the first place: because he’s warm and loving. “S0?” he prompts, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You take in a deep breath and smile, lifting a hand and slowly setting it on his own. “I want you to have sex with me, Eddie.”
He visibly shudders, and you think he’s a sucker. Technically, he is, but whatever. “Jesus,” he mutters, running his free hand through his hair. Then he smacks yours away, and your chuckle turns into a snort. He always knows how to make you comfortable. “Okay.”
You turn your body to face him, clearing your throat. “So… How do we…?”
“Okay, so…” He makes a “shoo” motion with his hands, so you get confused and raise a brow. You slowly and hesitantly lean back onto your elbows, staring at him with all the silent questions you can muster. He rolls his eyes. “No, get up. Sit over there, whore.”
You roll your eyes at him in return, moving to sit at the head of his bed with your legs crossed in front of you. Playfully, he rolls his eyes yet again and shakes his head at you like he’s disappointed. Eddie turns to lounge across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, I want you to walk me through everything he did.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thinking back to what happened in that car. “Well, he kissed me. We made out for a bit, and then he pulled me into his lap.” You only glance at him as you speak, but he’s so nice about it that you don’t feel so weird talking to him about being poorly fucked. “And he took off my shirt. He was, like, moving my hips and stuff.”
“Okay.” He listens so closely. His full attention is on you and only you, and it feels nice.
“Then he, uh, he played with my nipples. You motion vaguely to your chest.
“Did he use his mouth?” he questions gently.
“Mhm.”
He shakes his head then. He’s still gentle but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You gotta say yes or no, sweetheart, or I’m not touchin’ you.”
That’s fair enough. “Yes.”
“And it felt good?”
“Yes.” It almost sounds like a question, but he understands what you mean.
“Okay,” he gestures toward you. “What else did he do?”
You think for a moment. It’s already becoming a little fuzzy as your mind becomes distracted by the thought of Eddie, your sweet, idiot Eddie, doing these things to you and making it feel good.
This is the same boy you’ve seen fall out of his van because he tripped on the step and totally ate shit hitting the ground. This is the same boy you’ve seen stuffing his face with marshmallows because he was dared to by Mike and Dustin, and he was trying to prove that he could do more than they originally dared for him.
This is also the same boy you’ve seen absolutely shred his guitar with some fingering skills you’ve been envious of. And the same boy who’s seen you cry a million times and wiped away all the tears with plenty of jokes and compliments and threats of violence as were humanly possible. If there’s anyone who can make you feel good, it’s him.
You shake the thoughts away in order to get them straight. “He laid me down on the seat,” you remember, “and took off his pants and stuff.” You don’t really need the “and stuff” but it does make it a little easier…for some reason.
He furrows his brow in question, tilting his head like he’s grossed out all of a sudden. “Okay?”
“And then he…” you stare at his Dio poster across the room, “put it inside.”
He lifts his lip in disgust. He’s done that a lot tonight in response to this guy. “That’s it?” he asks with more distaste than you thought possible.
“What do you mean?” you furrow your own brow this time.
“Baby,” he says effortlessly, like he’s said it a million times before (because he has), “there wasn’t even foreplay.” He sits up, “No wonder you didn’t get off, girls need foreplay. Guys don’t need shit. We just think about tits, and we’re hard.” He shrugs, “I’m thinking about tits right now. Hard as a rock.”
The face you make transcends the rolling of the eyes or the upturn of a lip as you scoff. “Eddie–”
“You gotta be built up,” he continues, brushing past his comment like he never said it to begin with. You consider his words, taking them as the truth because he knows way more about sex than you would. He’s no prodigy, maybe, but you’re barely out of your virginity, so he’s got more advantage than you. “Did you blow him?”
You glance up, a bitter tone in your words as you mutter the first part, “Between positions… yeah.”
You don’t think “disgust” fits anymore. He’s just annoyed and entirely displeased. “You blew him, and he didn’t blow you?”
“I thought the term was ‘eat me out’.”
He shrugs a shoulder absently. “Symmetry.”
You airquote your response. “Okay, ‘symmetry’.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” you reply finally, still tasting traces of your toothpaste in your mouth. “I blew him, but he didn’t blow me.”
Eddie makes a guttural sound to try to properly express the amount of offense he takes to this. “You know what, fuck this guy.” He leans forward, placing both his hands on your knees and holding them there as he stares at you with those big, brown eyes of his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you now.”
It’s easy to take humor from that to avoid dealing with the arousal it sends through you. “You’re real confident.”
He’s not pulling back on anything, he has no reason to. He somehow becomes more intense as he effortlessly response, “Because I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you out like my life depends on it.”
“I–” There’s no way you can respond to that. “Oh. Uhm.” Your mind is immediately a jumbled mess of fantasies and incoherent words and more fantasies. There’s a heat between your thighs and an anticipation in your belly that makes it difficult to think.
“Relax,” he catches your sudden daze. He pats your thigh like it’s just something that he does and not a preface to him pulling them apart and having a feast. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
He gets up, stretching his arms high over his head to pop his back. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to the slip of his belly, spying a tattoo hidden away there underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He eyes you. “You don’t need any infections.”
You turn your lip up because you think he’s disgusting. “That’s gross, Eddie.”
He points at you. “But considerate.”
You get up specifically to push him away from you. “Go shower, you dirty whore.”
He winks at you. “Yes, mama.” You don’t know how to respond to that. “Get comfy, I’ll be out in a bit.”
You swallow thickly, trying not to dissolve into some pathetic puddle because he called you “Mama”. You’ve never been into that before, and all of a sudden, you can’t get the sound of it out of your head. He’s already long gone, leaving you alone in his room as you sit on his bed to wait for him.
You’re a total goner, you’re sure.
~
You’re going through more of his stuff by the time he comes out of the shower. You glance over your shoulder at him after the door closes, and you’re almost surprised by what you find.
It’s not like you haven’t seen Eddie shirtless before. The sight isn’t unusual to you, but given the context and the way his sweatpants hang low on his waist, giving the perfect view of his gentle V-line, his soft tummy. It’s a mouthwatering sight, and it’s taking everything to look away.
His hair is still dripping. The dampness is giving his curls a gentle shine in the lamp light in the room. He rubs his towel haphazardly through his hair as he speaks. “I know I’m gonna take them off anyway, but–”
He stops short when he finally looks up to see you. You’re rummaging through his drawers like the little thief that you are, your hand stopped somewhere in the second drawer in favor of watching him. But that’s not what makes him pause. It’s the fact that you’re in one of his shirts, one that goes down past the curve of your ass and stops short before even reaching your mid-thigh. Your legs are bare—you’ve discarded all your other clothes somewhere in the room and left yourself in some underwear and his shirt.
He always knew you were sexy. As your closest friend, it’s his duty to know how sexy you are, but this is another level and he doesn’t understand why.
Instead of pointing out the fact that his sweatpants are growing a sudden bulge, he gestures to the shirt. “Are you gonna steal that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, tossing his towel onto a chair stuffed in the corner of his room. It’s stacked high with clean laundry that he never got around to. He pays no mind to it when the towel and a couple of clothes fall to the floor immediately after.
Eddie takes a breath before he looks back at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles, raising a finger to make a come hither motion. You listen to him, walking over to stand in his space. Your hands rest at his sides because you always rest your hands at his sides, and, naturally, he holds you back.
“Remember,” he begins in a quiet voice (or as quiet as Eddie can be), “you gotta use your words. I gotta know if I’m hurting you, or I’m doing too much or too little.” His thumbs stroke your elbows. “You know your body better than anyone, but I’m gonna do my best to know it even more than that.”
You chuckle playfully. “Okay.”
“And you definitely, definitely have to let me know when I’m doing something right.”
“So you’ll keep doing it?” you guess.
He shakes his head and says in a flat voice, “No, to stroke my ego.”
You roll your eyes, and your humor is interrupted by his hand lifting to touch your cheek. You lean into it because his hands are warm. “You still wanna do this?” He’s completely serious, and a little nervous now as he looks at you.
You nod, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I trust you, Eddie.”
He nods, mostly to himself. “Good. That’s good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “That’s great,” he raises his brows. Then he sighs, glancing away from your intense gaze. “Let’s hope I don’t fall in love with you or something, or you’ll be getting your back blown out every night and twice on Sundays. Jesus H. Christ.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head at his ridiculousness, almost forgetting that he’s probably completely serious and you are about to fuck as you play into your banter. “You’re so–”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. You’re cut off by Eddie’s lips engulfing your own, warm and soft and really nice against your own. You let out a long breath, pulling him closer by the back of his neck as he takes a step forward into your space.
To be completely honest, you’ve kissed Eddie before. You’ve kissed him on a dare, you kissed him to trick people into thinking you’re dating. Hell—he was your first kiss because you and some friends were screwing around and then you happened to be picked to be locked in a closet for seven minutes because you were at a stupid party playing stupid games.
So the sensation isn’t completely new, but the making out part is. Eddie is a really good kisser.
When he pulls away, you aren’t really expecting it. He seems pleased by your daze as he bobs his brows. “So what?”
Instead of answering him, as you’ve forgotten what you were going to say, you kissed him again. It’s really nice, kissing someone. It’s nice to be this close, to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s lips. His tongue grazes your top lip, and you lean into it, because you trust him and it’s nice.
Eddie keeps you pulled close against his body as he starts stepping forward, keeping you from tripping as he does. The back of your knees hits the bed, and you hold on too tightly as you feel yourself falling backwards. You laugh when you fall back onto the bed with his weight on top of you. He laughs with you, “You’re okay, mama.”
He silences you with his mouth again, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He likes it just as much as you. Between that and his little pet name, your mind is swimming and your heart is racing. When he pulls away, it’s only to press his lips to the skin of your neck, suckling and nipping gently at the flesh as he does. You close your eyes, your fingers happily tangled in his hair as you keep him close.
“Mama,” you mutter under your breath, seeing just how much you like it as he nips at your neck. “I like that.”
You can feel him smiling against your skin. “Yeah? Want me to keep using it?”
You nod, “Yeah.” A hum echoes in your chest as he wraps his hands around your sides, lifting you a bit just to put you farther up the bed. He crawls on top of you, one of his knees settled between your legs as his hand caresses your side.
Your breath becomes thin when his hand smooths underneath his shirt, feeling the softness of your skin with a quiet breath. His palm stops at your belly as he slips the very tips of his fingers to rest underneath your breasts, feeling just how warm you are.
“Good?” he mutters, taking your earlobe so gently between his teeth and letting it go.
You nod, your eyes heavy like they’re glued down with sap. “Mhmm,” you breathe.
“Yes or no, mama?” he reminds you, gently kissing your lips.
“Yes.”
He smiles, rewarding you with another kiss as he whispers against your lips. “Good girl.”
You don’t have time to think about that right now. It’s too nice, too fuzzy. It sends a warm flush straight to the pit of your stomach and makes your breath hitch. Eddie knows and adds it to the list of things you like for tonight.
The slightest whimper slips from your lips when you feel his warm fingers reach up to brush your breast, gently groping you as he plays with your peaking nipples. He hikes your shirt all the way up until your bare chest is revealed to him, and he takes them in with an appreciative breath before leaning down to take one between his lips.
It’s much different than the guy before him. Eddie’s deliberate, licking and sucking and so, so gently nipping the bud. It sends a strange sensation through you, lighting every nerve ending and making it impossible to think straight as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair. You keep him close. It feels too good to do anything else.
You speak between breaths, your heavy eyelids and sticky lips working against your attempts to speak. “You’ve seriously cum to the thought of me?” you wonder, whimpering when his other hand comes up to pinch your other nipple between the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah,” he mutters, sucking harshly and making you gasp.
“Why?” you ask, making an attempt at playfulness between the haze of his ministrations. “Am I that irresistible?”
With only seriousness, Eddie looks up at you, letting his fingers take over in teasing you. “Yeah.”
Your grin falters, almost not expecting his answer—or at least the amount of honesty in it. “Wait, really? You’re not just buttering me up?”
He makes a face, a confused one that flatters you more than anything else. “No? You’re fucking sexy as shit.” He tilts his head, “You think I’m lying when I tell you that?” Eddie’s hand smooths down your side, gripping your hip as he goes.
You shake your head, bringing your knee up and sighing gently when his hand slides over the round of your ass. “You don’t have any weird feelings for me, do you?”
He pinches you, and you squirm away from him giddily. “Mama, I’m in love with you, but not like that.” He gently makes your side. “Now stop talking to me. It’s hard to kiss you if I’m talking.”
You chuckle. “Yes, si-”
Your words are interrupted by a tiny moan when his fingers graze the mound of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. Your back arches just slightly, the ticklish feeling making quick work of scouring your body.
“Does that feel good?” he wonders quietly.
You nod and bite down hard on your lip. The anticipation of it is eating you up. “Yes.”
“Good,” he lilts, continuing to brush his middle finger up and down the length of your panties until he’s pulling them to the side just enough to see you. Eddie licks his lips, leaning in to kiss your belly. You’re weak against him, trying not to cant your hips up into him and deter his work.
His finger caresses your folds through the bit of slick that had begun to gather there. “You feel the difference?” he asks between kisses.
“Yes.” Your voice is a squeak, and he seems quite proud of himself for making it that way.
“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” he says. “Then I’m going to put my mouth on you. You’ll let me know if I’m doing too much, right?”
You nod. “Yes, Eddie.”
He smiles, “Thanks, mama.” He feels the way you react to that, the slightest flutter of your folds. He sits up just to allow him the access to slip your underwear down your legs. The little, flimsy material comes right off. He drops it to the ground and comes to kneel in front of the bed. You hold your breath when his hands close around your waist, pulling you down to the edge to bring you that much closer to his face.
Instinctively, you close your thighs. It’s hard to will them to open and stay that way with the way his warm breath fans over your skin, his hands touch your body, his eyes stay glued to your own, constantly asking for consent.
You think he’s going to say something smart, smirk at you and chuckle at your shyness. But he does. Instead, he just gives you a calming look and asks, “You still okay, mama? You wanna stop?”
You let out a gentle breath, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “Just not used to this.”
“That’s okay,” he reassures. His kindness is honestly making your arousal worse. You feel like you’re going to start shaking if he pulls away from you. “Can I open your legs?”
You nod. “Please.”
He nods back, kissing your knee and smoothing his hands down your thighs, one on each side. The hand on the inside of your thigh dips so slowly between yours, seating deep between them until he’s slowly pulling them apart. The sound your thighs make when he opens them is lewd, it’s the quiet schlick sound that comes from the arousal that seeped out of you. You start to feel embarrassed, but then he sighs like he’s so relieved to see it.
“Tell me why you’re so fucking pretty,” he shakes his head. Your thighs are itching to close as you watch him lean in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, just to kiss you. You bite your lip, nervous and so ready.
But then he stands. “Give me a second,” he says, walking away from you as his hands slide off your thighs. You sit up higher on your elbows, watching in confusion and slight annoyance as he leaves you on the bed.
“Eddie,” you call while he walks to his dresser.
“Hang on,” he smiles. “Jesus.” He does that thing where his tongue sticks out over his bottom lip as he sorts through the junk on his desk. “Not leavin’. Just lookin’ for something,” he mutters.
You fall back on the bed, willing your heart to calm. He makes a sound of success, turning back on his heel to get back to you. You look at him and watch as he cards his fingers through his hair. He pulls it back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair tie around it to make a messy bun.
You flush at the sight because not even a moment later, he’s on his knees again right between yours. “You can’t be serious,” you say.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replies, looking at you excitedly. His hands land on your thighs again, keeping them spread apart as he pulls you again to the very edge of the bed. “I’d say hold on tight, but there’s nothing to hold onto so… Enjoy!”
He dives between your thighs, and the heat of his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your mouth slips open and a deep moan rumbles out of you. Your thighs close around his head as you feel his tongue licking at you, lapping at your folds as he delves between them.
“Eddie,” you call, one of your hands reaching down to touch the top of his head, trying to find some purchase at his hair. His tongue swirls around your clit, and you’re a total goner when his lips close around it and suck. You mewl at the unfamiliar feeling, enjoying every bit of it with an immense amount of pleasure.
You’d expected him to go slow, hesitant little licks against your folds as he worries about overwhelming you. But this is not that. It’s hot and heavy with deep strokes of his tongue and the tiniest nips of his teeth. There’s no way to keep yourself calm. Your hips are tilting up into his mouth, meaning he has to hold you down with his arms wrapped around your thighs.
Eddie seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He moans into you, heavy breaths fanning over your skin as he eats you out “like his life depends on it”. Your open-mouthed moans encourage him, especially when you say his name in this high-pitched gasp and slam your eyes shut. Your ankles hook behind him, pulling him in closer.
Eddie’s making the most obscene sounds—sounds worse than what you’re making. He slurps and laps at you like a dog drinking water. You’d call him a whore again if you could think of humor at the moment, but the only thing you want to tell him is to keep going and never stop.
When he pulls his mouth off of you, you whine. He smiles, knowing he’s doing a good job as he shushes you gently. “It’s okay, I’m not stopping,” he says. In the next moment, you feel his hand cup your pussy. “I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Please, Eddie.”
His fingers tease your entrance, though you don’t think he means to. He looks at you as he prods a finger at the seam of your cunt, slowly pushing it in until they part around him. A short “ah” sound is what he hears as he presses his finger inside of you, moving slowly until he’s got it all the way in. “Good?” he checks, the slightest thrusts moving in and out of you as he does.
Your nods are becoming insistent. “Yes, Eddie.”
“You want more, mama?”
“Yes, please.” He loves how polite you are. You’re usually so mean—though, he loves that about you, too. It just means you love him.
He sets a steady rhythm, one that’s still slow as he focuses in on your face, the way it shifts and squints at every little push of his thick finger. It feels really nice, the way he takes his time with you, making sure you feel everything he gives you.
“M’gonna add another. You ready?”
“Yeah.” He rewards you with a second finger, pushing it inside along the first and stretching you out for him some more. He thrusts them in and out, a slow and steady motion slowly building as he massages those inner parts of you. He curls them, and they press against a spongy point inside of you that has you rolling your eyes. “That feels good, Eddie. Don’t stop.”
He smiles at your initiative, giving you what you want with as much enthusiasm as you give in wanting it. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy. You’re wetting his fingers so nicely, making it so easy to slip them in and out of you.
His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks on it while you whine, while his fingers curl inside of you with every intent of coaxing an orgasm out of you. Little ramblings fall from your tongue as you grind against his. He's greedy in the way he licks around his fingers, over your clit, tasting your arousal as it seeps out of you.
A knot is tightening in your belly. Your hips reach for him with each little nuance of his skilled fingers as you seek out the release he's promising you.
His name comes out as a moan on your tongue. If either of you hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have made fun of you for it. Instead, you're spread out on his bed with his fingers inside of you, a moment away from cumming on his mouth.
Your hips try to lift up into him as you get closer and closer. He holds you down with one arm, his lips and tongue and prodding fingers working in tandem to taste you.
Your ankles hook behind his head as your back arches off the bed. “Eddie,” you whisper. He feels the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his tongue becoming more insistent in the way it flicks and laps at your clit.
He makes these sounds of encouragement, humming and mhm-ing into you as he goes. Your release is like a burst in your belly, it starts there and swarms into your legs, your chest, the base of your being. Eddie’s tongue keeps licking and lapping at you as your back arches off the bed and your legs tighten around his head. You moan his name as white noise erupts in your ears, the distant murmuring of his words muffled as you try to cope with the pleasure that has begun to set every nerve ending on a wild fritz.
Eddie seems more enthused than anything else by your orgasm. Both his arms wrap around your thighs and hold you down. He actually stands, bending at the way to get closer as he longs to taste all the slick and arousal that leaks out of you. As he sucks on your clit and hums at the way that you taste, you grip his hair and pull him in closer.
But there’s a point where you think you might die if he touches you any more. There’s a gasp in your chest that rips its way out as you push him away from your fluttering pussy as kindly as possible. He leans in again, just for a moment, before he registers your body pulling away from him, notices the way your thighs unclench and your fingers loosen from his hair and your moans and gasps of his name turn into weak whimpers and grunts.
“Fuck,” you huff as you lay back on his bed. You turn onto your belly, crawling up his bed and collapsing into his pillows that spell like him. He watches, licking his lips and wiping his face with a smile.
“I was right,” you mumble, feeling your body coming down like you're floating back to the ground.
“About what?” You feel the bed dip next to you where Eddie sits down. Then you feel him lay back, his head laid out on your thighs.
“You're a whore.”
He rolls his eyes, smacking your leg with the back of his hand. “You liked it.”
“Doesn't mean you're not a whore,” you say. “Just means you're a good one.”
He sits up, moving over you so he's caging you in. His hair has come mostly undone by now, and it's more of a mess due to your insistence on how wonderful he is. His guitar pick hangs down in your face. Your eyes cross and uncross trying to watch it dangle.
“Well, if I'm a whore,” he bends down, his soft lips pressing into your neck as your lashes flutter, “then I'm gonna charge you. It's three dollars a minute.”
You chuckle. “Well, guess what?” He hums. “I'm poor, so no.”
He breathes in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Then I guess you'll have to work it off.”
You try not to be too timid as you press your fingertips to his chest, guiding him back so he's sitting up. You move onto your knees, pulling your arms around his shoulders and relishing his hands on your waist.
“That shouldn't be too hard,” you mutter. You are timid when you lean into him, testing the air between you to make sure it's okay that you kiss him.
When you still haven't made any contact, he nudges your nose with his. “C’mon,” he goads, his lips sticky when he speaks with all the familiar affection between you.
Your lip quirks a bit at his humor. You kiss him, biting his top lip just to confuse him. He laughs and you consider your goal achieved. You run a hand down the center of his bare chest, pausing at the base of his belly to tease the light happy trail disappearing into his sweatpants.
You slip your hand just underneath the waistband of his pants, tickling his skin as your fingers brush the base of his length hiding poorly behind the fabric. He flinches slightly from your touch, chuckling lightly as his hand comes to cup your elbow.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask suddenly, slightly startled by his reaction.
He shakes his head. “No, mama. You just surprised me.”
“Okay,” you murmur, your timid fingers slowly attempting to try again. But he just shakes his head.
“This isn’t for me. This is for you,” he says, pulling back enough to see you.
“Yeah, but,” you lick your bottom lip, “I wanna make sure you’re enjoying yourself, too.”
He licks his own lips as if to remind you that they were just wrapped around your sensitive cunt. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enjoying myself, mama.”
Your finger hooks around the waistband of his sweatpants, a slight pout arising from your face. “Can you take ‘em off, at least?”
His hands are already pulling them down his legs as he teases you. “So needy.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” Your response falls short. As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, his cock springs from its loose confines and reveals itself.
You flush at the sight of him. You’re not a cock-hungry whore or anything—but if you were one, you think his dick would be a perfect subject for it. It’s not like he has this perfect cock that was hand-crafted by the gods or anything. But you think it’s safe to say that calling Eddie a freak is a valid name.
He’s long, freakishly so. He’s got a nice girth to him, you think, but you don’t know if he’s going all the way in—but, of course, you could be exaggerating. You’ve seen two cocks in your entire life, and Eddie’s is one of them and, admittedly, the better of the two. He will definitely reach.
“What the fuck, Eddie?” you look up at him.
“What?” His face falls slightly, his eyes widening just a bit as he wonders if your comment was good or bad. “What’s wrong?”
“How the hell do you fit that thing in your pants?” You shake your head. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
He just shrugs, but he’s a little relieved that you’re just being his asshole and not just some asshole. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
“How is it supposed to fit inside of me? What is that, like a foot long?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m flattered—really, I am—but it, most definitely, is not a foot.” He looks down at the erection between his legs. The tip is flushed, and it kind of looks like it hurts. “Seven and a half.”
“What the fuck?” you whisper under your breath. You reach down, brushing your fingers over the tip. He gasps through his teeth, and you watch the way it kicks up in response. “Sorry,” you tell him, ignoring the amusement in your chest. It reminds you of a spring, the comedic kind that goes “boing!”.
“S’okay,” he murmurs. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb over the rise of it as he asks gently and genuinely, “You still wanna go?”
You nod, “Yeah. That monster isn’t gonna scare me away.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big.”
You shrug. “You know, I heard Harrington’s like that big, nine inches.” You make a circle with your hand, moving it up and down like you’re jerking it off. “You think it’s true?” You bob your brows up and down.
He shakes his head, running a hand down his face as he snickers at you. “I doubt it. He could be one or the other, but both seem a little excessive. Have you seen how tight his pants are?”
“Yeah… you might be right.”
“We gonna talk about dicks, or are we gonna fuck?”
You sigh, shrugging like it’s nothing as you look back at him. “I guess, we’ll fuck.”
He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “Well, then, c’mon, mama.”
You actually giggle, surprising him as you bring a leg to wrap around his waist, pulling the other up to follow suit. He kisses you, his hands supporting your thighs as his dick nuzzles between the both of you, kept warm and wet by the way your folds sit against him as it pushes into his lower belly.
Eddie reaches between your bodies, taking his weeping cock in his hand and stroking himself a couple times with little wavers of breath. You watch some precum spill from his tip, sliding down the bottom.
“You want me to use a condom?” he asks.
You swallow thickly, thinking quickly before shaking your head. “Pill.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
You’re touched by his consideration but you don’t really want to put into words how much you actually want to feel him inside of you. You shake your head again, kissing him quickly to soften the slight awkwardness in your chest. “I don’t want you to use a condom, Eddie.” You almost whisper it, but he understands.
“Okay, mama,” he whispers back. He kisses you, lifting you up from his lap just enough to tuck the head of his cock at your soaked folds. “You ready?” You nod. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathing makes it feel better.” You nod again.
“Ready.”
You try not to hold his breath as he slowly lowers you down onto his lap, splitting you on his cock as you take him inch by inch. At one point, you’re sure he can’t go any further as you feel him seated somewhere deep inside you. And he’s right, it feels really nice.
Your breath is so light and airy when you sigh against his lips, holding him tight as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Fuck,” you huff, hearing his own breaths pass heavily in your ear.
“Fuck,” he echoes. “Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me, mama.”
You don’t know how you feel about the way this makes you feel, the way it makes you act. Your voice gets sort of whiny, breathy, this little thing in his ear that makes his cock twitch slightly inside of you. “Can’t help it,” you sigh. “So fuckin’ deep.”
He nods, his hands steady and firm at your backside and your arms tight around his neck. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”
You just nod, knowing he’s not going to move until you give him an explicit “yes”. It’s a lot to adjust to. He sits really deep inside of you, and he’s pressing against a spot that makes you delirious with just the pressure the head of his cock puts on it. But when you can’t take the suspense anymore and you’re too excited to see how it would feel, you nod again.
“I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go slow.”
You nod.
Holding your waist, Eddie begins to thrust his hips up into you. He does as he says and moves slowly, guiding your body in his lap so you grind down on him. A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, and you almost immediately seek out that pleasure with the eager roll of your hips into him.
“Not too fast, not too fast,” he hisses, lightly patting your hip.
You nod into his shoulder, feeling his hands roaming. His arm wraps around your waist, his other arm comes up to hook over your shoulder. He keeps thrusting, moving so slowly and filling you so deep. Following his commands, you roll your hips slowly into him, meeting each of his own movements in a building rhythm.
There's an ebb and flow in the way that you move together. Tiny whimpers fall from your lips, and his heavy breaths join them.
Somewhere along the way, it's not enough. Your insistent hips grind into him in search of more. He feels it in the way you breathe, the way you move, the way you hold him just a little tighter.
“Eddie,” you huff. “C’mon, I need more. Please.”
The way you say it is a little more whiny, a little needier than you intended. It feeds his ego, and he can't help but to lose some of his reassuring kindness. He starts making fun of you because he likes making fun of you, and he thinks that you'll probably eat that shit up.
“More?” His grip on you tightens just a bit. His thrusts become a little jerky, searching the same intensity you are. “You need more, mama?”
“Eddie,” you groan.
He pulls your face from his shoulder in order to look at you better. “You sound so whiny, baby. Like a little bitch.”
You roll your eyes because he's Eddie, and he calls you a little bitch anyway. Grinding in his lap, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. A strangled grunt comes out, and you smirk devilishly. “So do you.”
��Har, har,” he says.
“If this is all you can do, just tell me. It's okay if you're a one-pump-chump.”
You like vexing him. He likes when you vex him. But he also likes proving you wrong because he may be doing you a favor, but he can't let you go about thinking he can't fuck.
“Fuck you,” he scoffs. Then he's pushing you onto your back and wrapping your legs back around his waist, slipping out in the process. He towers over you like some wolf, bushy hair accommodating as his necklace swoops down to brush your skin.
“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” he says. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He guides himself back into you, embedding himself within you until you're full. One of his hands grips your hip while the other takes a hold of the headboard. It's this metal thing that squeaks whenever you move. So when he's thrusting into you with a vigor that has grown in the past couple of moments, it's accompanied by the constant whine of the metal. It's sort of funny.
His hips roll into you, waves of pleasure coming with each one. His hand cradles your neck, and you lean into him as he latches onto the sensitive skin of your throat, teeth scraping and tongue licking up the taste of your skin.
One of your legs comes up to wrap around his waist, and you moan as you pull him in deeper. His pace builds into this steady, needy kind of rhythm. The harder he thrusts, the more you clench, and the harder it is for him to stifle his grunts.
But you like the sounds he makes. Sometimes they're these deep groans that rumble in his chest like thunder. Sometimes they're these weak moans that you're pretty sure is him trying not to whimper. And you like the moans so much that you card your fingers through his hair and tug on a chunk of it as his head pulls back. His muscles flex, and his lips part. You watch his eyes flutter, this shocked whimper comes out of him.
“You did that on purpose,” his word and your moan mix together with the thrust of his hips.
“Ah…haha,” you gasp, nodding a little. “Yes, I—Oh, yes, I did.”
“What, are you a top or something?” he wonders, raising a brow.
You shrug, your mind a little blurry with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you. “Dunno.”
He's interested enough to find out.
Once again, you're being moved around. You whimper when he pulls out of you just to sit you up again. Eddie moves to the head of the bed and pulls you back into his lap. “Let's find out.”
You take him in your hand, lining him up with your waiting lips. As you slowly sink back down onto him, your eyes flutter shut as you feel the way he fills you. And it only gets better from there as you slowly take him farther inside until he’s buried so deep that you can feel him pressing somewhere inside of you that you can’t quite pinpoint.
You’re fully seated on him now, eyes squeezed shut as you adjust to the feeling. Your hands come to rest on his chest, the fingers of your right hand brushing over the demon head on his pec. When you roll your hips and feel the way it presses inside of you, you’re immediately done for.
Your rhythm isn’t steady for a while. You move purely out of an urge to quell this need in the pit of your stomach. As you fuck yourself on his cock, Eddie’s hands hold your waist tightly just to have something to hold onto. You move quickly and without remorse, your head thrown back in pleasure as your hips lift up just to smack down on his lap once again.
For a while, you just grind on him, focusing on that deep spot that shoots electricity through your thighs. This pitiful sound flutters out of you, like a shudder running down your spine as your hands move to cup the back of his neck in your palms. His name falls from your lips with a plea, it’s a weak sound that would bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on his back.
“Fuck, mama,” he huffs. “Keep going, just like that.”
His hands caress your skin, roaming your body underneath his shirt still draped over you. He hikes it up farther and farther until he feels your warm breasts. “Can I take this off?” he asks. You just nod, muttering an “mhm” as you keep bouncing with closed eyes. He pulls the shirt over your head, revealing your bouncing breasts to him as he takes a hold of them with greedy hands. He palms them, kneading them like he would dough. You just keep moaning as he builds you up.
You don’t mean to, but in an attempt to respond, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a repetitive “yes, yes, yes” that echoes in the room alongside his own loud, open-mouthed breaths. “Shit, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.”
That makes you whimper, moving almost ruthlessly just to satisfy the rising need in your belly. “Fuck, I need cum, baby,” you whisper, repeating that again and again with each little roll. Eddie wastes no time in bringing his large hand to rest at the juncture of your thigh and your hip, his thumb swirling insistent circles into your clit. You gasp at the feeling, which is way more electric than you thought it’d be.
It becomes a little difficult to think. Visions of Eddie and his hands and your bodies, and the sounds of your slick and skin, and the smell of sex and body wash and cigarettes cloud your mind. You’re on the verge of tipping over the edge, you can feel your fingertips tingling with the wild sensations of your pleasure, so, so close to you now–
Eddie pulls you up from his lap, unsheathing your cunt from him. Your moans and your breaths are interrupted, and this weak cry tumbles from your tongue. He grunts, laying his head back and making this “hmph” sound.
You blindly reach for his cock, trying to guide him back inside of you before he’s lightly smacking your hand away. “Wait, mama, wait.”
“Eddie,” you whine, thoroughly unhappy with the way the growing waves in your belly had begun to retreat. “Please.” You could honestly cry. It had felt so good—you had felt so good, and he’d taken it all away in a matter of a second.
“What the fuck, dumbass?” you huff, looking at him with eyes unfocused with frustration and face flushed with lust.
“You’re so mean,” he says, almost as put off by the failed release as you.
“I was so close.”
“I know.” He sits up a little more, moving you off his lap. Your arousal is coating both of you, your thighs are sticky with it, his lap and his cock is glistening in the dim golden light. “That’s called edging.”
“I know what the fuck edging is. Why are we doing it?”
He laughs at your frustration, and you want to hit him. “Relax, we’re not done yet.”
“Well, hurry up,” you whine, already trying to throw your leg back over his legs. He just swats you away again.
“Turn around.” You would argue, but you’re too horny. So, instead, you turn around so your back is facing him. His hand spreads out along your back, and you nearly squeal when he pushes you down so your face is pushing into his covers. He pulls you up so your ass is in the air, grabbing one of your cheeks and squeezing.
“You still good?” He’s checking up, trying to be nice even though he was just the cruelest he could’ve been.
“Yes, please.” He likes you like this, honestly. It’s fun to see you so needy. It’s just something he can hold over your head.
He lightly smacks your ass, not enough to hurt but enough for your hips to jerk at the unexpected sensation. Immediately, he smoothes the skin with the palm of his hand and hums. He nudges your legs apart, spreading you open for him just enough as he pumps his cock in his hand.
“Just testing out some positions,” he says simply before he’s guiding himself back inside of you. It’s a welcome feeling, one you’re beginning to become accustomed to. Once he’s fully inside, he bottoms out with a heavy sigh. “It’s good to see which ones you like.”
“I like when I’m being fu–”
You’re cut off when his hips thrust into you, an almost cruel snap that makes this filthy smacking sound. You moan, literally feeling yourself melting into the bed as one of his hands comes to fist the sheets by your head. The other holds your waist tight, keeping you steady as he begins to fuck into you.
You really like this position. Being on top of him was so, so nice, but being underneath him is a feeling that makes your brain numb. You wrap your hand around his wrist as your other curls in the bedsheets, mewling feebly with every snap of his hips.
It’s dizzying, having him take you like this. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, encouraged by the warm air straying in through the slightly opened window. His breath is heavy, and you can hear him grunting every time his hips meet your ass. “Do you like this one?” he huffs, moving his hand to wrap lightly around your neck. He pulls you up from the covers so you can speak, your bodies bumping back and forth in the dance you’ve created.
You’re being kept steady only by your hand on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. You like saying his name, especially when you feel so good. It’s like a wave through your skin. It falls off your tongue with ease. “That feels good.”
He’s happy you’re happy. He keeps it up, losing his breath the longer he goes as your loud ones mix together in the heavy air of his bedroom.
You’re so glad Wayne isn’t home because there’s no way you would’ve been able to keep quiet. You respect that man too much to put him through this. The loud squealing of the bed certainly doesn’t help.
You turn your head to his arm, pressing your nose to his wrist to smell him. He smells like he always does, cigarettes and cheap cologne, like leather and maybe a bit of metal. But under that, you can still smell it. Green apple.
You kiss his wrist, and something snaps in him. For the hundredth time, Eddie pulls out of you and moves you back onto your back. Once again, you’re looking up at him as he locks you in. There’s a wild look in his eyes that makes you breathless, and when he’s pushing into you again, you moan.
“Right there,” you mutter incoherently when he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you keep your legs spread wide. “Yes, fuck, right there.”
Eddie focuses on that spot, punching the head of his cock into it over and over again and watching the way your eyes roll, your head falling back into the sheets and your hands tightening around his arms. He loves the way your lips part, your soft lips split open by the feeling of him. He bends down and kisses the exposed expanse of your throat, sucking on the skin and nibbling hickeys into your skin.
When he pulls away from your neck with a light smack, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down so your bodies are pressed flat together, skin to skin. He ruts into you, pressing his forehead against yours as you both breathe the other’s air. It’s all heat and lust and something else, something hot and heavy.
“I needa cum, Eddie,” you mumble, “For real this time.” You manage to get it out with a minimal amount of stuttering. You’re surprised you were even able to put the sass in it that you managed. He’s made such a mess of you.
His thumb finds your clit once more, and he’s circling the bud with a fervent kind of eagerness. “Keep breathing for me, mama. Breathe in deep.” You do as he says, so much so that you get a little dizzy as the air comes and goes. You buck your hips up into his thumb, your whimper getting higher and higher with each swirl.
You feel a knot curling in your belly, followed by a startling heat. “Eddie,” it comes out almost as a question. You’re addicted to the way his name feels in your mouth. You repeat it over and over, squirming and breathing and tightening your hold on him. He keeps fucking into you, focusing on that spot that makes you see stars as he just thrusts faster until his hips are moving in short, hard spurts.
When the dam breaks, it's with a slack-jawed gasp and a tight embrace. Your whole body tenses, like a coil tightening. It gets hot and hotter and hottest until a band snaps and you're trembling. You moan his name like a cry for help, holding his face between your hands and marveling at the softness of his skin. A brilliant shudder makes its way through your body, the quivering of your limbs making it impossible not to whimper and whine at each little shake.
Eddie helps you through all of it, keeping his in and out pace until it becomes unsteady with the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. Your mouth latch onto one another, more heat and lust and longing to fill the space between you as you recover with a dizzying head and buzzing veins. Loud and sloppy smacks accompany the ones coming from your hips, still meeting with the last sparks of your orgasm and the drive for his own.
His steady thrusts are unsteady now, just tiny little pumps of his cock inside of you as his breaths build into gasps just as small. You’re already coming down from your high, and your whines are sounding a little different now as you tilt your head to the side and hold onto his arm, the punch of his cock bordering on an overstimulated feeling after trying to recover from the large crash of your orgasm.
“Eddie,” you whimper, one hand still splayed across his cheek.
He pulls out of you suddenly, peeling his hand off of you to grab his cock. He tugs harshly at it, bucking his hips into his hand until he’s spilling out over your belly in warm spurts, these shuddered moans coming with it. “Oh, fuck, mama,” he whimpers in that sticky tone, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the last ropes of cum coat your skin.
There are a few moments where there’s complete silence—save for the sound of a car here and there, or a dog barking in the distance, or some people laughing even farther away, or your heavy breaths huffing between you two. Your fingertips caress the skin of his cheeks, drawing patterns into his face as he simply enjoys it with closed eyes and settling breaths.
When Eddie sits up, he takes your hand to pull you up with him. You both sit on his bed, looking down at your bodies now sticky with his cum, though his isn’t the only fluid sticking to your skin. Your thighs make a wet sound whenever you move.
You run a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, popping your toes. Eddie watches you stretch your arms over your head, enjoying the way your tits look when you do.
“So I did good?”
You look back at him to see the way he watches you, his brows bouncing with a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes, not looking at him as you chuckle. “Yes, Eddie, you did good.”
He smiles wide.
Eddie stands from the bed, and you watch the way he sort of limps from his room. You can’t help your grin at the sight. At least that means you did good, too.
Eddie returns with a wet cloth in his hands, which he uses to clean you up first, wiping away all of your slick and his cum and even some of the saliva from your neck left behind by his sloppy kisses. He takes care in the way he does it, paying such close attention to you to ensure you’re just as clean and comfortable as he wants you to be.
When he’s done with you, he wraps his hand gently around your throat and pulls you in for another kiss. You lean into it. His kiss is like air in your lungs, and you sigh gently. Then he disappears again and comes back clean (and still deliciously naked—you enjoy the sight of his chain link tattoo curling around his upper thigh). He rustles through his drawers, pulling out another shirt, this one clean and not somewhere on the floor.
“You’re staying over, right?” he asks, as casual as ever as if he hadn’t just cum all over your stomach.
And, just as casually, you nod and turn onto your stomach to stretch again. “Mhm.” He tosses the shirt at you. It lands on your head, and you don’t move to put it on just yet. He picks up his sweatpants from the floor and puts them back on.
Eddie nudges you to the side so he can pull the covers back, and that’s when you sit up to put on his shirt. You stand, padding across his tiny room to turn off the lamp on his dresser, shrouding the room in relative darkness. When you climb back into the bed, you latch yourself onto his back and hold him to your chest. He’s really warm, and it feels nice to be this close.
Sometimes you wonder if you and Eddie are supposed to date. There’s nothing casual about your friendship, and there never really has been (especially not now). But you think that having Eddie as your best friend, perhaps just under unconventional circumstances, is the best thing there is. If you ever decide to get together, that’ll be a moment for a time in the (relative) distance.
For now, you just rest your ear against his back and listen to his heartbeat. “Eddie,” you mumble, bringing your leg up to rest over his body like he isn’t bigger than you.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
There’s a huff that you think is him chuckling. He pulls a hand up and pats yours a couple light times. “Anytime, mama.” There’s some silence. “I love you.”
You smile. You love your best friend Eddie.
“I love you, too. G’night.” He hums back at you.
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swordsandholly · 5 months ago
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part 2: Piercings and Puns
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“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.
You roll your eyes. “No.”
“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.
“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”
“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”
A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”
Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”
The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”
“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.
You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.
You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”
“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.
He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.
You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.
It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.
With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”
You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”
“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.
“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”
“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.
He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.
“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”
You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”
“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.
“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.
“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”
“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.
Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.
Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”
“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.
The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?
“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”
“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”
Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.
“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”
“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.
“Wouldnnae be the first time.”
You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.
You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.
“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.
“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”
You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.
“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.
You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“
“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”
When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.
“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”
“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”
It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.
Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”
“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.
He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.
“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.
“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“
“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.
“It’s not a far walk-“
He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”
You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.
It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.
He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”
“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.
“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.
You frown. “Huh?”
“What falls but never gets hurt?”
You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.
His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”
“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”
“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”
You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.
“They were being shellfish.”
“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“
“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.
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propertyofwicked · 3 months ago
Text
BITTER - LN
summary - lando and y/n will go to any length to piss each other off, which works well as long as she doesn't mention another man.
warnings: smut! MDNI!! doggy (who am i??), oral (f! receiving), lowkey hate sex but honestly it's just a miscommunication trope. NOT PROOF READ
song rec - bitter by fletcher
masterlist the playlist
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she loved her job at mclaren. race days, office days - she loved all of it. except for one thing.
lando was that one thing. she got along with all the team members but him, and she didn't really know what was the problem, it just never clicked between the two of them.
"talking to your boyfriend?" he asked as he walked by her, noticing the hurried typing on her phone.
“….no?” she replied, half disinterested in the incoming conversation, half defensive.
"then why are you all giggly while staring at your phone then?" he asked, smirking as his plan to piss her off was working - he loved to piss her off.
“and why is it any of your business?”
“just curious is all,” he smirked as he came to stand next to her desk, leaning against it while his arms were crossed against his chest.
“why?”
“just is,” he said, smirk widening. he then glanced over her desk, curious to see what she were typing, trying to peer at her phone screen, “ooooh, is it about me?”
“of course it is,” she replied, grinning sarcastically, “because obviously i don’t have anything better to do on my paid hours.”
“well obviously, have you seen me?” he joked, using his hands to gesture to himself.
“meh - i’ve seen better.”
he raised an eyebrow, a curious look in his eyes. he then pushed away from the desk to stand in front of her, towering over her.
"oh really? who?”
“i mean, have you seen oscar lately?” she replied, hiding the smirk that so desperately wished to rise on her face as she tormented him.
“sure, i’ve seen him,” he muttered slightly bitterly, as rested an arm on the desk next to her, leaning down slowly till he was level with her ear, “bet he couldn’t fuck you like i could.”
and with that he stood up once more, spun on his heel and left the room, leaving y/n to sit in her own thoughts, a blush rising from her cheeks.
and the thoughts stayed with her for the rest of the day, on the cab journey to her hotel, on the ride up the elevator to her room, and as she sat trying to distract herself with mindless scrolling.
she wouldn’t deny lando was an attractive man, no. but would she ever give him the satisfaction of letting him know that? most definitely, but not without a little reluctancy. such reluctancy that had her hesitating outside of his hotel room door, raising her fist to knock then lowering it quickly as she reconsidered her options.
lando had just gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist while his hair was still damp when the sound of the knock on his door echoed through the room, making him frown slightly as he went to answer it.
when he opened the door, he saw y/n standing in front of him, a surprised expression appearing on his face.
"hey. what are you doing here? is everything ok?" he asked, slightly concerned at her unusual quietness.
“prove it.”
he looked confused for a moment, having no idea why she was here. but, seeing the determined look in her eyes flipped on the lights in his brain. she wanted him to prove himself, prove that he could do better than oscar. smirking as he stood to the side, he let her into his hotel room before quietly closing the door and trailing behind her. he noticed how nervous she looked, sitting on the edge of his bed and fidgeting with her hands.
lando walked over to the bed, standing in front of her. his eyes never left her body as he stared down at her, wearing only a towel around his waist that highlighted the water that clung to his torso, something that her eyes tried not to linger on for too long.
“see something you like?” he teased. his ego inflated more when he saw how her cheeks gradually reddened under his gaze. lando chuckled lightly at her embarrassment, before taking a step closer to tower over her and lean down, his face close to hers.
“so cruel,” she almost whined, raising her gaze to meet his. his hands reached out to her face, grabbing at her jaw, and tilting her head slightly as though her were weighing up his options. he knew he had her right where he wanted her, and he loved it. he relished in the power he had over her.
he leaned down, kissing her gently, slowly - his soft lips moving against hers, gradually gaining confidence with every moment. he wanted to savour this moment. his hand moved to rest on her waist, the other remaining on her jaw as he swiped his tongue across her low lip, desperate for more.
lando’s body trailed down hers, nipping at her neck, kissing his way down until he sat on his knees in front of her.
“is this ok?” he asked, so desperate to taste her that his nerves slipped out with every word, though she only nodded in response, “words, angel.”
“yes, fuck. please,” she mewled, nodding as she did and eliciting a satisfied hum from the man kneeling in front of her. in that moment she felt like a goddess, and god did lando think she looked like one - half convinced if he looked up at her face quick enough, a halo would appear around her head.
“up,” he prompted, hands tugging at the waistband of her shorts, urging her to raise her hips enough for him to drag them down her legs, her underwear in tow, taking his time for what she supposed was dramatic effect.
“beautiful,” he whispered, his breath fanning the expanse of her heat sending a rush of ice cold blood through her entire body. he gave her no time to react before his tongue swiped through her folds, briefly circling around her heat but not enough to elicit the pleasure she craved so desperately, “taste so good,” he added, though his mouth turned to her inner thigh, nipping at the skin lightly as his hands gripped her legs, pushing them up to her chest.
he ate her like a man starved, a man desperate to prove himself, a man who was convinced that if this was his last meal on earth, he would die a happy man. her legs wriggled in his grasp with every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth on her inner thigh, but he just gripped at her flesh harder, keeping her legs still.
lando could feel her getting closer and closer to her high. he was enamoured by the way her legs tried to clamp closed around his head, caging him in, but he never relented. his tongue lapped up at her slick, flattening against her clit before slowly dragging the tip through her folds, circling her sensitivity. he pulled back to catch his breath, loosening his hold on her legs momentarily as he brought his face up to look at her.
her eyelids were heavy, her chest heaving as small pants and whines fell from her lips. her face had screwed up slightly, desperately holding onto the rising pleasure in her stomach that had been halted.
“please,” she begged.
“patience,” he reminded her, running his fingers down the skin of her thigh softly, “need to feel you. you want that? you want me to fuck you?” he added, egging her on to keep begging for him as his fingers returned to her clit, dragging the bud through his fingertips. he loved it, he relished in the power.
“please lando,” she panted out, staring down at him, “need you. need you to prov-”
“fuck off with this “proving myself” bullshit y/n,” he huffed, rising to stand in front of her once more, a playful anger in his tone, “when im done with you, you won’t be able to think about any one else again.”
his hands grabbed at her waist, turning her over quickly and pulling her hips backwards to meet his. his movements were harsh but god did she love it. lando leant over her frame, his lips pressing soft, deceiving kisses to her shoulder blade.
“oscar this, oscar that,” he muttered in her ear, grabbing his cock in his hand and sliding it through her folds, “don’t even need to fuck you to prove i can make you feel better than he ever could.”
she smiled at the thought. why was he so driven by the thought of proving himself - she’d only jokingly mentioned oscar to piss him off and clearly it was working. his tip pushed at her clit momentarily as his slid his length through her folds, covering herself in his slick. she whined out for him, wiping the smile from her face.
he pushed into her slowly, feeling the way her walls clamped around his cock at the intrusion before loosening, allowing him to take her fully, their skin connecting for a moment as her hand reached around to grab the hand that rested on her hip, urging him to pause whilst she caught her breath.
“what’s the matter baby?” lando questioned, voice laced with genuine concern despite his previous demeanour.
“too big. need a moment,” she breathed out, relaxing her muscles to accommodate him. lando couldn’t help the smug smirk rising on his face, knowing the effect he had on her.
“s’ok angel. i’ll go slow - okay?”
“mhm,” she murmured, rocking her hips back into his slowly to set her own pace, “fuck. move.”
his hips rolled into her slowly, jutting slightly when his tip hit her spongy walls, watching as her head dropped to the pillow, resting on the side, her mouth parted as she breathed through it. her hand finally dropped his, allowing him to return it to her hip, holding onto her for leverage as his thrusts quickened, cock slipping in and out of her with ease as she opened up for him.
“feel so good y/n,” he grunted, his fingers trailing down her skin, a hand stretching the expanse of her ass cheek before gripping at the flesh harshly, “look so pretty filled with my cock. sound so good when you’re moaning my name.”
“as opposed to complaining about everything you do?” she quipped back, taken them both by surprise at her level of coherency.
“i love when you get pissed off at me,” he grunted, lifting his hand up to plant a light smack across her flesh, “love to know you’re thinking about me,” he continued, grabbing at her skin quickly before slapping at the skin again.
“keep going,” she babbled, face turning into the duvet cover to silence her moans.
“what was that angel? i didn’t catch that,” lando’s voice let slip the smirk on his face, “you like it when i take you from behind?” he cooed.
“fuck yes. feels good.”
“speak to me baby, who makes you feel like this?”
“you, lando, you,” she moaned out, beginning to shake around him as her high approached, bringing him closer to his.
“no one else?”
“no one else,” she echoed, unable to think for herself.
“good girl,” he muttered, grabbing at her waist to hold her still as he fucked into her, resorting to using her body to get himself off. lando could feel the way she tightened around him, watching intently as her back arched for him, pressing herself impossibly close as his thrusts quickened, heightening in intensity.
“you gonna cum for me, angel?” he grunted, thumbs stroking gentle patterns into her skin, opposing the brutal snapping of his hips that echoed around the hotel room. she couldn’t even respond before she was shaking around him, rocking herself slowly into him as his hips faltered, allowing her the chance to catch her breath as she chased out the remanence of her pleasure.
“so good,” lando grunted out, “take me so well,” he continued, rambling as her heat squeezed at his length, luring him into orgasm. he pulled out quickly, pulling his cock through his hands a few times before watching as ropes of cum shot from his length, painting her back with intricate design.
he reached down quickly grabbing his towel from earlier to clean her up as her body collapsed in a pile on his bed, thanking the high heavens that he was in a hotel and would be able to request a new towel, no questions asked. manoeuvring her body, lando laid next to her, pulling her naked frame into his embrace and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“it’s interesting,” she uttered after a few moments of silence.
“what is?”
“you’re the one that brought up fucking me better than oscar could,” she replied, smiling, “i never said anything to the contrary and yet somehow just the mere thought got you so riled up.”
“…isn’t it obvious?”
“what?” she echoed his previous confusion.
“i want you. and i want to be the only one you want,” he replied bluntly, as though it was a fact, “so if i get riled up by the thought you with someone else - shoot me, i guess,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly.
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benevolentbones · 5 months ago
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me before you | spencer reid x reader
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warnings: angst!!! kidnapping, graphic depictions of injury, death, female reader
word count: 2.6k
summary: you go missing on a job and spencer goes ballistic
a/n: i hope you guys enjoy a touch of angst! i think this is my longest fic i’ve ever written:) reblogs & comments appreciated <3
“where is she.” spencer’s voice boomed as he bursted into the conference room. every set of eyes in the cramped police department office shot to the loud sound.
spencer stood in the doorway, his fbi vest still strapped to his body. his hair was disheveled and brushed off of his face, his white button up was half buttoned and the sleeves were messily rolled up to his elbows.
his eyes scanned the room, flickering over the local police force until they landed hotch. he stormed into the room, his face contorting with rage. before hotch could even utter a word out, spencer’s hands were on him, gripping a handful of the older man’s shirt.
“where is she, hotch.” he snarled, hotch using his hands to create a distance between him and spencer.
derek immediately jumped up, pulling spencer’s flailing form off of his superior. everyone watched in shock and horror, spencer had never acted like this, and certainly not on a case.
“we don’t know.” hotch stated, a calmness to his voice, but he was as just concerned as spencer was.
“why- get off of me-“ spencer fought back in morgan’s strong hold eventually breaking free after lashing around.
“why did you let her go in without back up- are you out of your fucking mind.”
“outside. now.” hotch breathed, he didn’t want complete strangers to witness whatever was about to occur. he walked calmly through the doors, his oxfords thudding against the marbled floor.
spencer followed suit after shaking derek off, his steps messy as he fumbled behind hotch, who made a turn into a private empty office.
“reid-“
“no. don’t go there- what were you fucking thinking hotch-“
aaron leaned against the desk, his arms folded over his chest. spencer stood a few feet across from him, pacing the room.
“we didn’t know what we were in for, the house was clear..” he trailed off, recounting the events that took place an hour prior.
~
you, derek and hotch were staking out the potential unsubs house, it was a bungalow in the suburbs and a pretty run down one at that, sitting behind the van you had driven in.
“morgan, take the front. y/n, follow me around the side.” hotch spoke, his dark eyes landing on you.
you nodded, following the older man to the side of the house. from your position you could hear derek shout.
“FBI open up-“ followed by the sound of the door slamming open.
you continued to follow hotch to the back entrance, which he swiftly broke down and then entered the house.
he held his gun up, doing a sweep of the back room. “clear” he yelled out,
from the next room over he could hear morgan yell back. “hotch look at this-“
the dark haired man quickly walked to where morgan was.
they stood in the middle of the living room, the place was run down and smelled like mold. on the weathered coffee table laid a videotape recorder and a note.
hotch bent down, picking up the note. the words ‘i got you, your turn.’ were etched onto the page, hotch turned his attention to derek who beared the same confused expression.
“what does that even mean? l/n get in here.” he yelled out, attempting to get your attention to see if you could help make sense of things.
a few moments passed before he called out again. “y/n?”
hotch walked to where he had left you, the back door was still wide open, he eyes trailed down to the ground, which was when he saw it.
your gun.
from outside the sound of a engine starting up rattled, the tires screeched as the vehicle pulled onto the road.
fuck
“morgan, take the camera and the note- she’s not here.”
~
“what so you’re telling me you left y/n on her own? knowing that she fit the description of all the unsubs victims- you can’t, you can’t be-“ spencer cut himself off, letting out a choked sob.
“reid i am sorry. we will find her.” hotch reached a hand out to touch spencer’s shoulder, a wave of sadness washing over his body as he watched spencer begin to break down.
with hazel eyes brimming with tears threatening to fall, spencer sunk into hotch’s embrace. letting out shaky breaths in between cries.
“you- have to get her back- i need her- she-i can’t let her- go first.“ hotch rubbed soothing circles on spencer’s back, which proved to be hard through the bulletproof vest.
“we will find her, reid. let the team work, go home. you need rest.”
hotch was right, it was nearing two in the morning and spencer had not slept for almost thirty six hours. the circles under his eyes were noticeably more dark, looking nearly hallowed out.
spencer pulled away from the hug, his doe eyes red and puffy from the crying.
“i’ll send morgan with you, we will notify you when we find something. and we will.”
“okay. thanks.” the younger male sniffled, his tired eyes meeting hotch’s as he walked out of the office.
~
your eyes blinked awake, a slight grogginess to your vision. the florescent lighting above you hurt your eyes and your head ached.
you attempted to move but felt your hands and legs bound, your eyes darted around the room. you were tied up, sitting on a wooden stool, the room was practically barren except for a pile of sheets in the corner, a table lined with tools and a camera on a tripod. the red light blinking intermittently.
you spotted a small rectangular window at the very top of the wall, it was covered in weeds from the outside. i’m in a basement.
you wriggled, attempting to break free but only causing yourself to get rope burn, you hissed in pain.
“fuck sake.”
the metal door in front of you swung open, revealing a tall man dressed in black. he had an eerie grin etched on his face, his striking blue eyes staring at you like you were something to eat.
“hello agent l/n, nice to see you’re finally awake.” his voice sounded rough, as you ambled into the door, closing the door over leaving it a few inches ajar.
“thomas wilson.” you spat out.
“you have a smart team, y/n. you managed to find me just after five kills. bravo.” his voice laced with a mocking tone.
“it’s a shame they didn’t have your back.”
you stayed silent, eyeing his form as he began to circle the stool you sat upon.
“but i fear- this may be my last kill, so i’m going to be thorough.”
you felt your stomach drop. you were hoping, praying that maybe the team was on the way, that they would be able to get here in time.
you tried your best to read thomas, you could tell by the way he limped around you that he was injured, and he didn’t seem a hundred percent confident in himself. maybe you had a chance.
“how’d you get hurt? i’m a medic, i could help you thomas. you don’t have to-“ your attempt at empathy was cut off by a strike to your face.
the man pulled back his fist, as you slowly recoiled your head. you could feel your eyes swell, staring intensely at him through wisps of your hair that fell over your face.
“silence. we don’t have much time. i need to prepare.” he muttered to himself, walking towards the table to your right.
you racked your brain, trying to think about the other victims and their similarity to you. hair colour, eye colour, frame and stature, age. but they were all single women, involved in prostitution in one way or another. maybe you could convince him that way.
“i’m engaged, thomas.” you spoke, trying to get his attention. “i know your other victims were all single- i have a fiancé.”
“where’s the ring.” he didn’t bother looking back at you, your empty hand flexed into a fist. you never wore your ring on the field.
“i can show you photos- my phone, it’s in my jacket pocket.” you were trying to delay whatever he had planned, you were grasping at straws.
thomas limped towards you, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your phone. it was turned off, but he rebooted it, unlocking it and going straight for your camera roll.
he caught the bait.
~
“sir- y/n’s phone just turned back on.” garcia practically shouted.
“can you track it? -emily alert the swat team now.”
“on it sir.”
the majority of the team piled into cars, fbi vests strapped to their bodies. garcia sent the location to hotch and the cars sped off, it was just twenty miles from where you were taken.
“you sure this is the right place?” hotch spoke out into his phone, a slight anxiousness to his voice which didn’t go unnoticed by penelope.
“yep. i quadruple checked, the satellites picked up the van dropping the unsub and a victim at this exact address.” garcia stated from the other end of the line, faint clacking of the keyboard could be heard from her side.
“thank you, garcia. keep me posted.” he muttered before ending the call and stuffing the phone into his pocket.
“did anyone tell morgan?” hotch spoke, morgan had brought reid home and was told to stay with him incase of any updates.
“just now sir.” emily spoke, shutting her cellphone.
~
“see- that’s me and my fiancé, spencer. he works with me.” you stated as thomas scrolling through thousands of pictures of you and spencer.
you could tell this caught him by surprise, you were sure his other victims probably pleaded for their lives, saying they had families and partners to get back to. it made you feel sick.
“it’s not too late- thomas please let me go, i don’t want to leave him.” you mumbled out, fighting back tears at the thought of how distraught spencer must feel right now.
“i- i cant it’s too late. i have to do this.” he stuttered out, still scrolling through pictures on your phone, his face frowning when he came across your engagement photos.
“can i call him, can i say goodbye?” your eyes met his pale ones, you could see from his expression he was thinking things over.
“fine.”
he searched up spencer’s name on your phone, pressing the call button and holding it beside your ear.
spencer was in a car when his phone started to buzz, morgan had received the call about your location and immediately told spencer who refused to let the older man leave without him.
spencer picked up immediately once your contact came up on his phone.
“y/n- are you okay- are you hurt?” he blurted into the phone, putting it on speaker so derek could listen in. he felt a sudden relief at the sound of your voice.
“spence. i- i’m not hurt.” you paused briefly, eyeing the man next to you. he was listening in. “spence, i love you so much.” you mumbled out, white hot tears staining your cheeks.
“baby? what’s happening.” spencer questioned, his hazel eyes beginning to well up.
“i love you- and i’m sorry, i don’t think i have much time left.”
“no. no no no- you promised- me before you-you can’t leave me“ he rambled out, his heart sinking as tears began to flood from his eyes. derek gripped the steering wheel, pressing his foot down on the pedal, they were nearly there.
“i know baby- i tried-“ you choked out a sob, hearing spencer crying broke you.
thomas was getting visibly frustrated, his grip on your phone tightened. “that’s enough.” he muttered out.
“i have to go spence- i’m sorry i love you so much.” and with that, thomas had ended the call. tears streamed down your face as you tried to muster up the ability to stop.
the older man ambled back to the table, he had laid out a number of weapons. you recalled the details of how the other victims died, each one exactly the same down to the last cut. thomas likely suffered from remorseful ocd.
the man turned back to you, a knife in his grasp. he could tell he was battling within himself, he didn’t want to do this, but he felt like he had to. you could faintly hear the sound of cars passing the house, praying that someone would show up.
“i’m sorry” he muttered out as he brought the knife to your collar bone, pressing it into your skin and dragging it across.
you screamed, a wave of pain engulfing you. blood quickly began to trickle from the laceration, staining your white shirt a crimson hue.
if this was how you were going to die, you were going to make sure it haunted him forever. your eyes locked onto his, forcibly making eye contact as he switched to your left side, beginning to slice the other side of your collar precisely.
you gritted your teeth, feeling the cool metal of the knife drag across your skin. he pulled back, now pressing the bloodied knife to your throat. he was behind you, all you could do was stare straight ahead at the door in front of you.
suddenly the door burst open, hotch standing before you with a swat team piling into the room.
“drop your weapon.” he commanded, his voice booming as he pointed his gun at unsub. you have never been so relieved to see aaron hotchner in your life.
“i can’t, i have to do this.” thomas muttered out, his hand shaking as he pressed the knife to your throat. he began to press it firmly against your skin, you winced out at the pressure.
hotch immediately fired a shot, the bullet sinking into the unsubs shoulder causing him to fall back and shout in pain. a member of the swat team rushed to thomas, restraining the male as he put a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.
hotch was by your side in seconds, unbinding your hands and legs. “are you okay?” he questioned, concern lacing his usually stoic voice.
you nodded, rubbing your throat once your hands were free. you attempted to stand up, wobbling as you placed your feet on the ground, you felt weak, the bleeding around your collars had slowed but you were still losing blood.
“let me.” hotch scooped you up in his arms, carrying you up the stairs and out of the house. it was dark, and there was a swarm of swat cars and an ambulance waiting for you.
a car pulled up to the scene, the passenger door swung open and spencer stumbled out, barely getting his seatbelt off.
“y/n?!” he called out, scanning the area, once his eyes landed on your form in hotch’s arms he sprinted over.
“spence-“ you began before you were engulfed in a tight hug, hotch passed you over to spencer, making his way to the ambulance to alert the medics.
“i thought- you were-“ he blubbered out, his eyes puffy from crying.
he fell to his knees, his hold on you not wavering. you wrapped your arms around his neck to the best of your ability. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you in his arms.
“i’m going to get blood on you-“ you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.
he let out a short laugh, followed by a small cry.
“i’m okay spence- i love you, i’m okay.” you reassured him.
“i’m never letting you go again.” he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath.
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea
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ceilidho · 7 months ago
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]
first chapter >> last chapter
-
He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.
All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.
John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 
“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 
You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 
“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”
His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 
Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 
“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 
“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 
It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 
You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.
“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”
You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 
Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 
But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 
“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”
“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”
“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”
“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 
The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 
He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 
That gets you to zip your lips. 
When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 
A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 
He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 
John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 
Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 
Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 
It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 
“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 
His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.
“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”
“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 
“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 
John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 
And then he’s on you.
He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 
You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 
“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 
“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 
John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  
You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 
“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.
“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”
He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 
The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 
It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 
“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”
You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 
“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 
“I—I’ll—”
“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”
“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”
At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 
Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 
Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 
You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 
“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 
You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 
The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 
He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.
Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 
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Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 
It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 
It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 
From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 
When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 
He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 
You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 
When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 
Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 
Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 
Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 
The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  
The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 
Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 
The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 
The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 
When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 
You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 
“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 
She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”
You frown. “Gaz?”
“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”
“Way back when?”
“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”
You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 
The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 
“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.
Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”
“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”
You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”
She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 
“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”
Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 
You nod instead of answering. 
“Did you give it to him?” she asks.
“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 
“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”
Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 
“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 
“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 
Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 
“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 
It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 
You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 
When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 
If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 
It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 
If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 
You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 
It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 
It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.
“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 
He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 
You understand. It sits under your skin too. 
"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."
Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.
And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?
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jj-one · 8 months ago
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STRAY KIDS + WHEN YOU’RE BUSY AND THEY CRAVE YOUR ATTENTION !
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this is smut, do not interact if under 18
pairing: skz x f!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, nipple play, fingering, exhibitionism, voyeurism, marking, sexting, sending nudes, piv, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap ur willy), masturbation, oral (f receiving), dry humping, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, spanking, there is probably more but i’m too lazy to write them all words: 4.4k
[note] if you remember seeing this before yes i’m the original author i didn’t plagiarize lol, i made a new blog and was formerly known as @milkychae but deleted a while ago. i’ll be reposting all my old deleted fics and using this as an archive !
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BANG CHAN. It was finals week, aka your personal hell. You were always super nervous about tests and if you didn’t score over an 80% that may as well be a failure to you. You sighed as you opened yet another textbook to read, your dickhead professor thought it would be a good idea to pile more homework on top of the fact knowing you all needed to study. Your major was biochemical engineering so you shouldn’t have been too shocked by all this intense workload. As you were sitting on the bed you heard a noise come from the door, looking to the left of you to see Chan coming inside. You don’t really put much thought into it though since you see him literally everyday and you were just really focused on studying right now. That’s when Chan starts to come up behind you, rubbing your shoulders and planting a kiss to your cheek.
“Hiii y/n, I’m back!” He says cheerfully, “I couldn’t wait to see you baby,” he proceeds to try and pry the textbook out of your hands so you can give him your full, undivided attention but you pull it back.
“Sorry babe but I really, really need to study right now.” You tell him with an exhausted look on your face. You’ve been studying for only 2 and a half hours but it feels like the entire day.
Chan looks at you and puts his arm around you, “You look so tired sweetie, why don’t you let me give you a massage?” He asks, already starting by wrapping his hands back on your shoulders.
You loved this man dearly, he just came back home from an 8 hour shift at work but is still offering to give you massages and help you out when you’re stressed. You want to tell him no and that you seriously need to focus back on studying but the intrusive thoughts were slowly winning. Ultimately you gave in to Chan’s desires and he gave you a gentle massage. The massage started off pure at first with no intention of going any further but then his hands slipped a little too far and came in contact with your nipple. He noticed you weren’t wearing a bra underneath so he slips his hand through the opening of your t-shirt, light moans were now leaving your mouth from his touch.
“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day babe,” Chan softly whispers while pinching your nipples, bringing his other hand down to your thigh and gently caressing it. Chan has always been good at being a distraction for you and his cock is definitely what you need instead of reading about the Principles and Techniques of Molecular Physics.
LEE KNOW. Saturday nights were the best, you had no work and got to do whatever you wanted for the whole day. You weren’t much of an outgoing kind of person so you chose to stay in and have your boyfriend Minho come over and be lazy with you. You were wrapped up in your cozy sherpa blanket watching your favorite kdrama season finale, you and Minho both loved kdramas but you got way too into them. Your eyes have been glued to the show since Minho got there and you only spoke about three sentences to him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you and he’s not as remotely interested in the show as you are, he keeps looking around the room and sneaking glances at you from time to time.
He can’t stop noticing how cute you look today, you were wearing very light makeup and had messy hair. He thought you looked so adorable in your current state, just in awe of your natural beauty. He wraps his arm tightly around you and tries to give you a kiss, but you quickly pull away from him so you can focus back on the TV, not trying to miss anything. Minho gets visibly upset by this, he wants to give you his affection yet you’re currently denying it. He tries one more time to kiss you but you continue to keep pulling away to watch the show. That’s when he decides he’s had enough and grabs the remote to turn off the TV, causing you to get frustrated with him.
“What the hell Minho?!” You say in confusion, you were getting so close to knowing who the girl’s father finally was.
He doesn’t say anything, instead he just starts roughly kissing you, pushing you down on the couch and hovering over your body. He pulls away leaving you breathless, then proceeds to nibble on your earlobe, dragging his tongue further down to lightly suck on your neck, touching a certain spot that makes you inhale sharply. He brings one of his hands to your stomach, rubbing it gently. Beginning to toy with the hem of your sweatpants and wants nothing more than for them to be off.
He was almost going to give in to that idea but a new one came to mind, an even more sinister thought. He grins as he continues rubbing down your thigh, you want him to wipe that smirk off his face so badly because you have no idea what he’s up to. Wondering what he could possibly be thinking about right now. Minho brings his fingers to your clothed heat, sliding them inside the sweatpants and starts rubbing your clit through your panties. You moan for him as you close your eyes, feeling the friction. You buck your hips in the air so you can feel more of him, but Minho grips your hips and holds them firmly in place.
“No, stop. No moving ‘til I say so,” Minho says sternly, giving your clothed pussy a little slap as he looks at you. “Since you’re so willing to ignore me, I get to tell you what to do from now on.”
CHANGBIN. You’ve been cleaning the entire house preparing for your parents to come over for dinner. You wanted to make sure that everything was perfectly spotless and the amount of cleaning you did today could account for your whole lifetime. You were cleaning the stove and just as you were about to grab another clean sponge you see Changbin with a whole box full of donuts from Krispy Kreme.
“How’s it goin’ babe?” Changbin asks while setting the donuts onto the table, he sees you wearing an apron and giant yellow gloves, “looks like you’ve been doing some serious, hard labor!”
“I’ve been cleaning for 5 hours now..” You say with an exhausted look on your face, “I haven’t even finished cleaning the stove yet.”
“Who cares about the stove y/n,” Changbin says, chuckling at your frustration about needing everything to be neat and tidy.
“I’m serious Binnie, I need to clean everything and make sure it’s all perfect!” You tell him while pouting.
“Why don’t you take a break babe.” He suggests out of concern, grabbing your hands to take your gloves off and sets them aside. He slowly brings your body up against the wall behind you, kissing you passionately. He must have been wanting you all day by the way he was hungrily kissing you, the man was sucking on your face for dear life, exploring the depths of your mouth as both your tongues were intertwined. He takes off your apron and grips his hands around your waist while your leg wraps around him, he held you so securely.
As things got more heated, and all your clothes were off, he aligned himself inside you. Your hands were snaked around his neck as you desperately move your hips to feel his cock, feeling every bit of his thrusts in you. Letting out a high-pitched moan as you grab a fistful of his hair and scream his name. Your legs grew weak with each and every stroke Changbin gives you, feeling like you’re going to faint. He continues pounding into you like no tomorrow and you hold tightly onto his shoulders for support. His skin was sticky and sweaty from all the work he’s putting into fucking you, his face looked super focused as he was hitting all the right spots. He was fucking all your stress away at this point and you were feeling so good. You feel yourself coming to your peak as he thrusts into your dripping heat, you’re seeing stars at this point. The harder his strokes were getting, the faster you were to reaching your climax.
“Mmm…gonna cum!” You cry out in pleasure, slowly losing your grip on him as you slip from his grasp. Changbin swiftly picks you up and pins you harder into the wall, making sure you don’t go anywhere by fully pinning his body up against yours. You feel so connected to each other in this very moment as you’re both about to cum, both letting out a string of moans in unison. You both reach your highs together, dizzy as your orgasm washes over you, feeling his cum leaking out of your cunt and dripping down to your leg. You just spent the whole day cleaning and now you have to get cleaned up before your parents come in approximately 30 minutes.
HYUNJIN. It was a long day at work, you were about 6 hours in and you already wanted to end it all. You work at a clothing store and on this particular day for some reason everyone and their mom wanted to come shopping. You’ve been working the register nonstop and you had yet to take a break, you were so busy that you forgot to even take one. You asked one of your coworkers if they could cover for you while you go on lunch and they said yes. You were so excited to finally be able to get to sit down and eat. As you sat in the break room you checked your phone for any missed messages, you see that you have a bunch of missed texts from the new guy you’re seeing. Hyunjin’s name is plastered on your phone and you check the messages straight away, eyes growing wide at what was shown before you. Hyunjin sent you a string of messages:
‘Hey y/n, what’s up?’ [1:15 pm]
‘Imyyy’ [1:25 pm]
‘Wyd? Are you at work?’ [1:42 pm]
‘Yea you’re prob at work :P’ [2:26 pm]
‘I’m a little horny lol’ [2:41 pm]
‘I want youuuu’ [3:02 pm]
He then proceeds to send you a couple shirtless pics of him in bed and a short video of him stroking his erect cock through his boxers. You quickly look around to see if anyone would be able to notice and you don’t see anyone else in the break room besides you. That’s when you open the video fully to see the rest, quickly get turned on as your wetness is only growing. You ran to the bathroom so you can send a photo back, snapping a quick pic of your boobs under your shirt and telling him how wet that video made you at work. You love that he now comes to you for when he feels needy, you like that he craves your attention while you’re gone. He sends you another message saying how much badly he wants to fuck you and he can’t to pick you up from work. You smile at that and tell him you only have 2 more hours to go.
You realize it’s time to get back to work and now all you can think about is that damn video Hyunjin sent you. The way he was stroking his cock all nice and slow made you want to be there to give him even more pleasure. You were walking around all day with wet and sticky panties since you came a little bit from fingering yourself in the bathroom to the video. You couldn’t wait to bounce on Hyunjin’s cock all night after you get off work.
HAN. This was now the fifth dress you tried on and you still haven’t figured out a style you liked yet. You were getting frustrated but you weren’t going to let your pickiness get you down from shopping. You were at the mall with your boyfriend Han and as much as he hated shopping he liked to see you try on the pretty dresses for him so it was a win-win. You go to a different store now and you check out those dresses, making a beeline for the pink ones since that was your favorite color. You check out all the various designs and ask Han which ones he liked best, he didn’t really give much input and just picked the shortest one for you.
You gave him a playful side eye and put the dresses you didn’t like back, heading over to the dressing room so you can try everything on. As you were trying on the dresses, Han was sitting on a bench outside the door, texting all his homies. He soon started to notice how long it’s taking you in there and although you were busy trying on dresses he was getting tired of sitting here and waiting for what seemed like an eternity. He sighs as he figures out what to do, but he ends up deciding to knock on your dressing room door. You don’t reply but he can hear stuff rustling from the inside so he knocks again and tells you it’s just him.
“Uh… I think I need help,” you tell him reluctantly, he’s not sure what you need help with but he comes in anyway. He sees you standing in the dressing room with your hands in the air and the dress halfway up your body, he starts to laugh at how you were stuck in it.
“This isn’t a laughing matter, please help get this damn thing off of me!” You whine, and he begins to unzip the dress from the back, releasing you from its tight grip. You feel like you can finally breathe once again and slip the dress off of you, now completely naked in front of Han. You were only wearing your skimpy g-string and you had your nipples pierced which Han loved about you. He looks you up and down, licking his lips as if he was about to destroy you. The only thought in his head right now was to kiss you, so he grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours, moving some of your hair out the way. You kiss him back but harder and even more passionately, letting him fondle your boobs and play with your piercing. As he toys with your nipples he looks at you with pure lust, his eyes were all hazy and he looked nothing but in love with you. He started kissing your chin and licked the side of your neck, making you get all wet and worked up for him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this right here baby,” you tell Han as he continues roaming all over your body.
“Doesn’t that make you wanna do it even more though?” He says mischievously, sucking on your neck and giving you small hickies. You knew the chances of getting caught were very high but at this moment, you didn’t really seem to care. All you wanted right now was Han and that’s all that was on your mind. His hands slid down between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers and coating them with your essence. Your wetness was leaking down to your thighs and it took everything in you not to scream from Han’s touch. He inserts two fingers in your tight little hole and goes in and out slowly, you press your lips together trying not to make a sound, so he covers your mouth.
“Shhh… quiet babe,” He whispers into your ear.
FELIX. It’s not secret to Felix that you were a workaholic, you often immersed yourself in your work a little too much. He knows you are an independent woman that enjoys the freedom of working but at the same time he really wishes you’d give that same energy towards him sometimes. You traveled a lot for work and although you two live together, it still puts a strain on your relationship being apart for long periods of times. Felix loves to be around his lover and the fact you are always so busy with work makes him want to shower you with even more love and affection when he sees you. You were gone on another usual business trip but this time it was for a week, that was the longest you’ve gone for work and it was driving him insane. Everyday he thought of you and he would text you little things that he saw randomly throughout the day that reminded him of you. You always appreciated how much Felix adored you and your work ethic, he loved you for you.
The day you came back home from work Felix came to you with open arms, he was more than excited to see you again and all he wanted for the past week was the attention of his beautiful lover.
“I’ve missed you so so much baby,” Felix says whilst giving you the biggest hug, his body was so warm and you melted right into him. You gave him a kiss and he moves you both over to the couch, pulling away from kissing you for a second with a weird grin plastered on his face.
“What’s with that look?” You ask, wondering what he’s thinking in that head of his.
“I got you a little something, I’ll be right back,” he quickly runs to your shared room and comes back with a black box in his hand.
“What’s this?” You ask curiously, holding the box up to examine what it could be.
“Just open it, you’ll be surprised.”
You do as you’re told and open the box, you see a purple velvet bag and you open to see what’s inside. It was a vibrator, it had multiple settings and looked very high quality and expensive. You instantly blushed as you held the item in your hand, looking up at Felix so he can explain what’s going on.
“I wanted to get something to relieve your stress..” he continues “because you’re always so busy and stuff, y’know.”
You smile at the naughty gift your boyfriend gave you, giving him another kiss and thanking him.
“Want to use it on me now?” You ask, knowing that he’ll say yes to you in a heartbeat. Felix’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store and he agrees without hesitation. He sits next to you on the couch with the toy in his hand and you’re now making out. As one thing leads to another, you end up naked lying on your back with your legs spread wide out for him. He has the toy on one of the highest settings and you’ve squirted about three times for him already.
“Come on baby, you can give me another. Just one more,” Felix says demandingly, having too much fun with this toy.
You spring your head back as you feel the toy in your soaking wet entrance, you don’t know how much more of this you can take. Your legs were violently shaking and the couch was soaked with your juices, you felt like you didn’t have anything left in you. Felix keeps fucking the toy in and out of you making you scream out for him, he palms himself through his pants as he does it.
“I never want you to be away from me again y/n,” Felix’s deep voice rasps as he pumps the toy into you deeper, “I mean it this time.”
SEUNGMIN. You were laughing hysterically as you were scrolling through TikTok, you’ve been glued to your phone for hours at this point. You showed Seungmin, who was sitting next to you on his bed yet another TikTok that he probably wouldn’t think is funny. You put the screen up to his face to show him the video and he looks but doesn’t really seem that interested. You tell him how funny you think the video is and he just shrugs his shoulders.
“You know, I’d rather have you shoved in my face rather than a phone.” Seungmin says to you.
‘Ok boomer’ you think to yourself, not wanting to actually say it incase he gets offended. You decide to just ignore his comment and go back to watching hilarious TikToks. Seungmin starts to get bored and he when he gets bored he becomes bratty. You hear him whine a little bit, looking up from your phone to see him pouting and all you want to do is give him a kiss.
“C’mere,” You command for him to come closer, he quickly does so looking like a lost puppy. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, then begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slips a hand under your tank top and lightly squeezes your boob. You sigh as you feel him innocently brush past your nipples, then he trails some more kisses down your stomach. Once he makes his way down to your lower body, he quickly takes off your pants with ease. Teasing your clothed pussy a little bit, watching as a wet spot starts to appear from the outside, he circles your clit and starts to sniff you.
“You smell good baby,” Seungmin compliments, finally taking off your panties and tossing them somewhere on the bed. He kisses the inside of your thighs and feels the warmth of your skin on his lips. He loves every inch of you and he wants to take his time with you. Flicking his tongue on your clit and you hiss at the feeling, you want him to fuck you with his tongue. He licks a nice long stripe across your wet folds, staring up at you while doing so, your phone still in your hand the whole time. Seungmin brought his head up more to face you, “keep looking at your phone while I eat you out babe, pretend like I’m not even here.”
You comply with his instructions, continuing to watch TikToks like normal and Seungmin goes back to devouring your pussy like the good boy he is.
JEONGIN. It was a very nerve wrecking day for you, you were meeting Jeongin’s parents for the first time today. You put on your most expensive Dior perfume and prettiest heels to meet his mom since Jeongin told you she was very into fashion and can tell when girl’s wear cheap perfume. You wanted to impress this woman as much as possible since this was definitely going to be the man you wanted to marry someday. Jeongin reassures you the whole day that she was going to love you regardless,
“Even if you wore perfume from the Dollar Tree she’d still like you!” He tries to give reassurance. You don’t believe that’s true but when you get to his mom’s house you meet her and the rest of his family. His dad was super nice and everyone was very welcoming towards you. You were actually shocked by how chill and laid back everyone was, you felt bad for assuming that they would be mean to you. Jeongin’s mom was the last person you met, when you met her she came off as a little timid but then she started to warming up to you once you started having a lot of things in common.
She was really sweet and super funny, you now know why Jeongin is such a charming guy. You see Jeongin come up to you so he can pull you away from his mom for a bit but his mom brushes him off to tell him she wasn’t finished talking. He walks away with a defeated look on his face and you continue talking with his mom. When the food is ready everyone gathers at the table to eat and you sit beside Jeongin, his mom was across from you both. You were busy for most of the day talking with his family and getting to know everyone. He wanted to be with you but he couldn’t even get the chance, feeling left out in the conversation. You feel your phone vibrate from the table and you pick it up to see who it is, seeing that it’s from Jeongin but you’re confused because he’s sitting right next to you. You turn towards him to ask him why he just texted you but he puts his finger to his mouth to tell you it’s a secret. You place your phone under the table to look at the message,
‘Come meet me in the bathroom upstairs by the laundry room ;)’
You instantly blush from reading that text and try to hide your flustered expression. You look at him and nod your head to signal that you understand. Jeongin shoots his head up and tells his parents who were across the table from him that he needs to be excused to go to the bathroom. You shoot yourself in the foot thinking about what excuse you can come up with so you both don’t look sketchy.
“Sorry please excuse me I have to take this important call for my job,” you quickly say to his parents as you head over to where you’re supposed to go.
You meet Jeongin in the bathroom where he told you to and you went straight to heavily making out. He grabs your ass and spanks it lightly, “How long you think we can be in here before they start to notice?” You ask, his lips now glued to your neck.
“I dunno, I honestly don’t really give a fuck.” He says bluntly, turning you around to face the sink and the mirror, pressing his bulge against your ass. He starts grinding his dick against you slowly, kissing your neck and running his fingers down your body. He lifts up your dress and drags his cock to rub against your clothed cunt, you lowly moan his name and he smiles. He’s about to fuck you so hard against this sink all the while his parents not having a clue where you two went.
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Good Girl
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
-After a hard day at work, you seek comfort in Matt. He knows exactly what you need.
cw: explicit material (oral m!receiving, daddy kink, hair pulling, praise kink) looooots of pet-names, use of ‘sir’, he says ‘slut’ one time, rough!matt, patronizing!matt, matt’s sort of mean in this :P in the hot way
a/n: minors Do Not Interact!! i tried my best to not describe the reader or use any language that would insinuate anything about her looks :) also no use of y/n i hate that shit. this is the first fic i’ve written in like six years so i appreciate all feedback!
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It was Friday, the one day you got off work early enough to spend the rest of your night with Matt, it was around 6:30 when you finally parked your car in his driveway and made your way up the stairs. The day you just had was replaying in your mind, all the grief you got from your boss and the way every coworker on your floor watched you leave her office, eyes welling, face hot from the embarrassment. You couldn’t help but feel defeated, like you had deserved the verbal assault and all you wanted now was your boyfriend.
Matt was perfect. He knew exactly how you needed to be treated before you could even tell him, which was lucky for you, considering how flustered you got asking for anything, let alone something on the more sexual side. It’s why the closer you got to the top of the stairs the more your body started to relax, albeit this also meaning your eyes once again felt the hot prickle of tears ready to fall.
You felt relieved as you saw the living room empty with just one ambient light glowing from above the sink across from you. you followed your heart and the sound of Frank Ocean playing softly to Matt’s bedroom door, rapping lightly with your knuckles so as not to startle him. Walking in, you saw him doing what you expected, sitting heavily in his chair, headset half on so he could still hear the low melody from his speaker, making final edits on a new hour long video the boys had filmed that week.
Matt straightens in his seat as he turns to where you’re leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to welcome you in, nervously picking at your thumbnail. “Hey, doll, c’mere.” a smile breaks over his face as he takes his headphones off and twists his chair to face you, holding his arms out.
Walking in, you try and muster up a smile but it falls short as the comfort of Matt’s presence makes your damn finally break. You traipse over to settle into his lap sideways and tuck your head under his chin already feeling the tears spill over onto your cheekbones. Matt must’ve felt the drops falling onto his sweater as he cranes his neck to see your face where it’s nestled into his collarbones, “Whats wrong, honey? hm?” he rubs your leg where its propped up on the side of his chair, squeezing you closer by the arm he has wrapped around your shoulder.
You feel his lips meet your forehead gently, resting them there more than kissing you, you bring your hand to tug on his sweater, shaking your head and letting out an almost imperceptible whine. “awe, poor girl, d’you have a rough day? want daddy to help, baby doll? we can go lay down or…” his sentence trails off as you slip from his lap onto the floor between his legs.
Matt lowly chuckles as he watches you get comfortable on your knees, looking up through your still-wet-lashes at him, laying your hands on his thighs and resting your cheek on his left leg. Matt’s amusement is evident in his voice, “what’re ya doin, silly girl. not gonna even ask me?” his smile stays playful as he moves his hands from atop yours to rest on the sides of your head, the feeling of his cool fingers lightly touching your ears and the pressure of his big hands causes you to almost purr in his hold.
The tension from your day a thing of the past as you feel your mind floating to a place only your boyfriend can take you to. “s-sorry” speaking is the last thing on your mind but a part of you knows matt loves hearing you have to explain yourself, loves how you squirm at his insistence and especially loves your willingness to fulfill his wish through your embarrassment. “need daddy, need you ta just do what you want please, don’t wanna think.”
Your voice is meek as you move your hands up his thighs feeling over his soft sweatpants, not pushing too far as you know matt hasn’t given express permission.
One of Matt’s hands move to meet yours where it’s resting on his upper thigh as his right hand slides to cup your jaw, rubbing his thumb against the apple of your cheek.
“hmm, my sweet girl.. you need daddy? thats okay sweetheart, just need to ask like a good girl, okay?”
His voice is gentle and guiding with the slightest glint of condescension, just enough to make your eyes slip closed, melting into his palm as you blearily nod at his instruction. “could I please make you feel good, daddy, and let you do what you want to me, please, sir?”
Matt feels his heart clench at your words, always loving how he can get you so eager and desperate for him, your soft voice adopting that airy quality, eyes sparkling, looking at him like he was your whole world. Matt can’t help himself as he leans forward and lands a sweet kiss to your hairline, your cheek, then down to the tip of your nose. “My girl~.. so polite, you know how much I love when you use your manners, huh? Good job, sweetheart..” His voice soothing and husky, you can tell he’s beginning to give into you, but you also know he’s not that easily swayed.
Matt leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, like he’s relaxing on the beach and not mentally torturing you as you squeeze your thighs together, squirming where you’re propped on your knees between his legs. “Please.. please?” you’re trying your hardest not to break into a full-on beg but looking up at his smug expression, legs spread and chin tilted up as he stares at you down his nose, you feel like youre going to burst out of your skin, needing him to just grab you and take you.
The only response Matt dignifies you with is a low chuckle and a patronizing ruffle to your hair, you know you should be angry or even ashamed but the only thing running through your mind is how thankful you are for him. You feel your body temperature rising as his hand stills and starts patting over your head, “Okay, sweetheart.” he drags out the oookay in a placating tone, “Why don’t ya show me how bad you need it, hm? If you’re not gonna tell me whats botherin you, you can show me where you need me, at the very least, huh?”
Matt’s words are all you need to hear as you lift up onto your heels, planting your hands on the muscle of his thighs and tilting forward to shyly nuzzle against the slight tent forming in his sweats. You look up, gauging his expression, feeling nervous no matter how many times Matt has reassured you that there’s just about nothing you could do to him that he wouldn’t love.
“Ah…” he drags the syllable as if he’s just connected the final clues to a mystery. “That’s what my dirty girl wanted. Need me let you sit there and have daddy take over like a good girl?” You nod lethargically, head swimming with desire, your nose brushing against the part of him you want the most. “Need it, i’ll be good, promise..” Hearing your own words distantly, you almost feel like someone else is in your head controlling you, opening your eyes to meet Matt’s devilish expression, you begin to half believe he is in your head.
You mouth desperately at his bulge, wetting the gray fabric of his pants, digging your fingers into the meat of his thighs, furrowing your brow at how close you are to what you’ve been thinking about all day. Matts large hand thats still resting on the crown of your head suddenly tightens to grip your hair firmly, “Okay, okay… let daddy take care of ya, princess. I can see how bad you need it, hm? Need to be put to use?” You begin to nod as much as you can while he still holds you by the hair, Matt kicks the chair from behind him as he stands in front of you, using his tight hold on your hair to make you crawl after him as he moves closer to the end of the bed.
The whine you let slip could only be described as pitiful. It makes Matt’s face light up as he lets go of you, smoothing your hair down and bending to kiss where he had previously been tugging you.
“Alright, babydoll stand up for me.” as you rise to your feet, finally feeling how numb your legs had become, you lilt forward to hug around his waist. Matt chuckles sweetly and uses a gentle hand on your jaw to tilt your head back, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
The sheer intensity of the kiss makes you feel like you’ll never be able to breathe again, only able to inhale what he lets you, nose filled with his scent and a lingering breath of the cologne he must’ve put on this morning. If this is how you went, you would die happy. Matt holds you firmly by the back of the neck, using this leverage to pull back just slightly, lips barely touching as he examines the mess he made of you, in contrast, you study his composed demeanor, making you feel a flutter of shame at just how worked up you are knowing matt has barely even touched you.
The thing to snap you out of your own head is a soft thump from beneath you, looking down, realizing Matt has tossed a throw pillow on the floor in between you two. His hold on the nape of your neck stays firm as he lowers his head just a bit to really meet your hazy eyes, “You gonna be a good girl and get on the ground for me? I know your poor knees must hurt, hm? Sit on the pillow, doll, get comfy. Don’t wanna hurt ya too much.” The splitting grin on his face as he says this last sentence is enough to make you that much more aware of the arousal in between your legs.
Eyes never leaving each others as you drop to your knees, Matt’s hand cradling the side of your face. Once you’re settled his soft touch turns to a grip on your chin causing your lips to form into a pout, making him laugh at your position.
“Such a good slut, bet I could tell ya to do anything and you would.” He uses his tight hold on your face to manipulate your head into an exaggerated nod, “Uh huh, and you’d love it… love when daddy bosses you around, makes you humiliate yourself…” Matt’s smile stays wide but his eyes have lost all humor as he bends to be eye-level with you.
“But you don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart, you know i just wanna take care of you. Help you let go, stop doin all that thinking, huh? Yeah… ‘s too much for my girl, thats why you just gotta let daddy do all the thinking for ya.” He finishes his words with a light couple taps on your cheek. By the end of Matt’s monologue his smile is reaching his eyes and you can tell, even through the fog in your head, that he’s sincere, slightly teasing, yes, but he means what he’s saying, knows how much you need him to take over.
You only nod dumbly in response which gets you another tender kiss as a reward. Matt straightens out and lets go of your face, holding out his hands to you. “Gimme your hands, baby.” Your hands placed in his up-turned palms are then guided to hold his hips. “Want ya to keep your hands here for me, tap me twice if it’s too much, alright?” Matt’s stern tone letting you know that this was a rule not a suggestion, “Mhm, yes, sir.”
“Good girl~!” His voice as though he was giving a treat to a puppy who learned its first trick, causing you to squeeze your legs tighter, hyper aware of the wetness growing in your panties, and smile up at him lovingly.
“T-thank you, daddy..” Your low voice like kryptonite to your boyfriend, moving his hands from where they were settled over yours to play with your hair, gently twisting the strands with a blissed out look on his face.
“Okay, babydoll, I liked that little show you put on for me earlier but…” His voice trails slightly as he tugs on one of the strands of hair he’s still holding, “I dunno if you’ve demonstrated just how much you need me in your mouth, so daddy’s gonna let you try again, hm? How’s that sound?”
“Mhm mhm i’ll show you!” At this point your brain is so beyond feeling embarrassed you don’t even realize how pathetic you sound, only knowing you’re allowed to put yourself to some use, allowed to prove your devotion to Matt. Immediately leaning forward your mouth reattaches to the still damp spot on Matt’s sweats, licking and kissing at his erection, needing to convey all the words and feelings swirling in your head through your lips.
You’re still fully attached to him as your grip on his hips tighten, mumbling through the fabric, “Please, please lemme take ‘em off, your pants, please.” You feel like your skin is on fire, mouth too empty, head not empty enough. “Of course you can, princess, just remember, don’t move those hands.”
His words give you pause for a split second before you’re straining to bite at his waistband moving downward as you pull off his pants, you don’t even care that you hear him failing to stifle his laughter from above you, it only spurs you on, making you more wet, more hungry for him.
Matts hands in your hair start to move more to the back of your head, now pressing your face against his hard on, “That what you’ve been begging for this whole time? Daddy’s dick in your face, hm? Makes sense, what kinda guy would i be if i didn’t know how much my girl likes getting her face fucked, huh?” It’s these words that finally make you moan out loud, now more eager than ever to just get him down your throat.
“Please, please, need it so bad, more than anything please. Don’t wanna breathe anymore unless you want me to, need daddy to make it better~” You’re almost unaware of the words you’re saying as they tumble out of your mouth, Matt certainly enjoyed your little outburst as he lets out a quiet Fuck under his breath, now completely hard as he haphazardly tugs down his boxers, kicking them and his sweatpants from around his ankles, reaching to his back and pulling his sweater over his head.
Then just as you were about to get what you wanted, Matt pushes you back slightly at the shoulder, tugging meanly on your shirt, “Take all this shit off, keep your panties on.”
A shiver runs through you while you rush to take all your clothes off, obediently repositioning onto the pillow, feeling Matt’s scrutinizing eyes on you, making your face heat up. “Good job, doll, say ‘ah’…” His smile is verging on cruel as he holds your chin, pulling your mouth open.
You follow his orders and he immediately steps closer to you, slapping his tip against your tongue. “Ya look so pretty, baby…” his voice trails off as he uses the hand under your chin to guide your mouth onto him, letting out a deep groan and rolling his head back.
“Fuuuck, good girl…” Matt’s eyes are back on you as you slowly work your mouth up and down his length, your eyes slip closed, finally feeling your body and mind level out, you feel Matt’s big hands lay on your head, assisting your movements. “Open those eyes… ‘Atta girl.” his left hand moving down to lightly pinch your cheek, right hand petting you softly as he stares down at you- shiny lips, teary eyes, and puffed out cheeks.
Suddenly, the hand that was previously stroking over your hair, was now firm at the back of your head, pushing you forward.
Your brows furrow as you gag on Matt’s dick, feeling him hit the back of your throat as he holds you still, laughing under his breath at your spluttering breaths and the tears falling down your cheek.
“Such a good job, babydoll, know how much you love choking on it, hm?” the hand he has on the back of your head lets go, allowing you to pull back for a full breath of air. “So good, honey, i love how you take it, love how you’d do anything to please me..”
Immediately after taking a break to breathe you put him back in your mouth, fervently bobbing your head, sucking him down to his pubic bone, forcing yourself to stay there, looking up at Matt as he smiles down at you proudly. “That’s my good girl, want daddy to fuck your face, hm?”
You nod as much as you can with your mouth so full, Matts smug smile only getting bigger at your answer, he plants his hands on the side of your head and starts slow. Pulling you off him just a bit before tugging you back down, again and again. Matt’s moans and swears increase as you gag and choke on his dick, you can feel him pulsing in your mouth as he thrusts messily, “Fuck, so good, so perfect, angel.”, he pants out the words, throwing his head back and finally holding you down on him, cumming down your throat.
“That’s it, baby, good job. Swallow it all like a big girl…”, he pats your head lovingly, before nudging your head off of him. The floaty feeling not subsiding as you slump down, hands still gripping at Matt’s hips, looking up at him with stars in your eyes.
“Thank you, sir…”, is the only words you can think of, watching Matt as he slips his sweats back on, “Don’t need to thank me, babydoll, I love helpin you.”
Matt’s voice lulling you, he comes back over to you and leans forward, picking you up under your arms and holding you to his chest. “C’mon, sweet girl let’s go lay in bed, hm? Did so good for me, im so proud of you for tellin me what you need, such a good job.” Matt carries you to the head of his bed, laying you down and walking over to his wardrobe, grabbing a long sleeve shirt and dressing you in it, sitting sideways on his bed next to where you’re sitting back against his headboard. “D’you want daddy to take care of you, hm?”, he says this while rubbing up and down your thigh, lightly nudging your legs open. The blush that covers your face makes you feel more shy as you answer, “N-no, that’s okay… just wanted to make you feel good, it makes me feel good.”
Matt smiles brightly at you, cooing at your words. “Awe, baby, that’s so sweet…”, he brackets you in between his arms as he leans forward to kiss you deeply. “My sweet girl..”, another kiss, “You know I love you so much, right? More than anything, just wanna give you everything you ask for.”
Your arms reach up to wrap around Matt’s neck, tucking your face into his neck, your blush intensifying at his words, “I love you, too. So much. Thank you for always knowing what i need, you’re the best thing to happen to me.” You’re still hiding your face in his neck, too shy to see his face as you speak your mind.
Matt leans back, bringing you with him and positioning you in his lap, his hand on the side of your face pulling you away from his shoulder to look at him. “I’m always gonna take care of you, sweetheart, it’s my job.”
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thesweetestofdreams · 21 days ago
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hey gorgeous! I was thinking abt a reader who is a bit of a gym rat and her and James become friends in the gym and every day after the gym he tells rem and siri abt this girl and then one day they all meet somewhere (maybe like grocers i dont know) and the other boys fall in love and then next time they are at the gym James asks her to go on a date with all of them in hogsmeade or something cute like that and they all start going out!!!! Obviously just ignore if that sounded horrific, love you!!💞💞
poly!marauders x reader
A/N: OMg thank you so so much for your request!! I can’t tell you how excited it made me and you’re so incredibly kind! I really hope you enjoy and I hope I did your idea justice. Also let me know if you’d want a part two. I have some ideas!
You poke your head around the corner, eyes searching until you find him. A brick wall of a human, well more like a Greek god. You wave when James’ eyes meet yours in the mirror. He drops his weights and you try not to look at his arms, his hands. 
"You're going lighter," you tease instead, gesturing to his abandoned weights. 
"And you're late." He smiles at you.
"Ugh, I know." Little does he know you were obsessing over every part of your outfit and fussing with your hair. You were down bad, but you knew you couldn't be blamed entirely. You'd seen the looks of other girls, and guys, in the gym whenever James was around, yet somehow you seemed to have garnered his attention.
It all started when he saved you from an unsavory man at the bench press. You'd asked him to spot you, but apparently, he had taken that as more of an invitation than it was. He'd followed you around the gym the entire time, ranting on and on about aspects of himself that he thought made him attractive. After a half-hour of cold shoulder, he still didn't back off. He kept trying to put his hand on your waist, persistently asking for your phone number. 
"Take a hint dude," James said, pulling the man's hand off your waist. He tried to brush James off saying something about how you wanted him there. James made eye contact with you and the look you gave was all he needed. "Seriously man, shove off." Finally, after a particularly withering look from James, the man backed off cursing you for being a tease. 
"Thanks," you said, a hand pressed to your lips, clearly shaken. The whole thing made him incredibly angry. He watched your gaze follow the man across the gym, nervous.
"I'm at the weights if you want to join." The rest was history. Since then James made the gym a safe place for friendly competition and you wouldn't trade it for the world. Even if you did dream of the idea of having something more. 
James had been pretty transparent from the beginning about his relationship. The way he talked about them you felt like you practically knew his boyfriends. He talked about the two almost every chance he got. The way he lit up each time you asked about them, you could tell he loved them. 
"Oh don't let me forget I have something for you," he said from his station at the treadmill next to you. "I was telling Remus about that book you were telling me about, and he said he had one you might like." 
The idea of him talking about you in his home to his boyfriend made your head swim. "You were talking about me?" you half laugh half puff. 
"Of course," he said looking at you like it was the silliest question in the world. "I talk about them when I'm with you." 
By the end of it you were both sweaty messes, but you still let him hang an arm on your shoulder as you left. 
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That night James is cooking dinner, and he can’t get his mind off of you. “I'm telling you guys. She's borderline angelic. I mean how can anyone look that good after a workout for real?” 
“I’ve seen you after a good workout Jamesie,” Sirius says, eyes salacious across the kitchen island. 
Pointedly ignoring him, James continues, “She’s just so nice, the sweetest really. I wish you guys could meet her.” He strains noodles over the sink, the steam clouding his glasses. 
“I’m sure she’s lovely, and probably twice as gorgeous as you described, but Remus and I do not do gyms, dear.” 
“You could always invite her for dinner,” Remus says, stirring sauce on the stove. 
“Oh yeah, come on over to my flat and meet my boyfriends even though we never really see each other outside the gym and I could totally be a murderer for all you know.”
“But you’re not a murderer,” Sirius laughs. 
“And how is she supposed to know that?” James pours the pasta into the sauce as Remus stirs.
“If you’re too shy to ask, that’s fine love,” Remus says, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 
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You think the grocery stockers are out to get you. Your favorite granola is always on the highest shelf and this time it’s pushed back ungodly far. You're about to climb the shelves when you hear someone behind you. 
“I can help,” the man says. Of course he has to be drop dead gorgeous with honey brown hair and a worn sweater. 
“Thanks,” you say, trying not to fumble over yourself. 
“Oi Moony, they had your ice cream,” you hear from down the aisle, and to your surprise, you know that voice. 
“James?” you call peering over the shoulder of the man trying to hand you your granola. When you see the dark haired man next to James the pieces start to fall into place. There’s James next to what has to be Sirius and the man in front of you must be…
“Remus, I see you’ve met y/n,” James says walking to the two of you. “He must be putting the moves on you. He would just let us struggle.” James winks at you. Remus, on the other hand, is still reeling from your smile. It was like watching the way he feels when he sees James and Sirius played out right on your pretty features. 
Your almost star struck. It feels like meeting celebrities the way James talks about them. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say, smiling wide, hugging the granola to your chest. “James talks about you all the time.” It’s a funny feeling to have faces to add to all the stories you’ve heard before. 
“Funny, we could say the same thing,” Sirius says, giving James a look you don’t quite understand. 
“Sirius was starting to get jealous,” Remus jokes. 
“Yeah, of James,” Sirius says, winking at you. His flirtatious persona falters for a second when you laugh. He’s caught by the sound, and once it's over he already wants to hear it again. James was right, you're magic. “Who’d have thought we’d find an angel in the cereal aisle of all places.”
“Or the gym.” James smiles. 
They’re flirting with you. It feels nice you have to admit, but it’s starting to make your cheeks burn and your head spin.
“It’s been so lovely to meet you,” you say to them both, “but sadly I have to run.” It’s almost like they deflate. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” James asks, expectant. 
“Of course,” you smile, “don’t be late, it’s leg day.” He gives a dramatic groan, but you see his smile never falter. 
As you leave you hear James say, “I told you.” 
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James is all smiles the next day, well he’s usually pretty smiley, but he seems particularly bright today. You got there early just to tease him but his expression winds you. 
“How are you?” James always asks like he truly wants to know. 
You set your shoulders, hands on your hips, “ready to crush you.” He answers with a hearty laugh and you fall into the same comfortable routine you’re used to. First is warm up squats. 
“Remus and Sirius were quite taken with you.” You try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It’s not really working. 
“Me? You’re the ones who could be models.” You hope your flustering comes across closer to being winded. You notice James has stopped and now he’s just standing at your side. “Flattery doesn’t get you out of squats James,” you say pointing a finger to the ground.
“Actually I wanted to ask you something,” he says, he looks shy for once, a hand pulling at the back of his neck. You feel your stomach swoop, but you’re not trying to get your hopes up. 
“Of course,” you say, feeling somewhat like a deer in headlights. 
“Well, we were wondering… I mean I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, but now they’re really on me. Anyways,” his gaze meets yours, “would you like to go out sometime… with us?” 
“Like a date?” you ask wide-eyed.
“Yeah,” he smiles, “Only if you’d want to though.” You’ve never seen him actually look nervous before. It’s endearing really, charming even.
“Yes,” you say, you’re practically bouncing on your feet, newly energized. “I’d really like that.” 
James smiles wide, it’s a smile he wears with his whole face, crinkling eyes and dimpled cheeks. Just like that James is critiquing your form and things are back to normal, but really they probably just changed forever. 
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Hogsmeade is bustling with Autumn. Leaves flood the sides of the streets from where they flutter off stray branches. It’s like a scene from the movies except you’re in it and the scene is yours. You could be floating for all you know. 
Sirius is just as charming as James said. The four of you come upon a wishing well, and Sirius declares that you have to toss it over your shoulder for the wish to come true. After four successful tosses he looks at you conspiratorially. “What’d you wish for?” He smiles at you with a tilt of his head like he thinks he could guess, and you feel a blush burning your cheeks. 
“She can’t tell you, Pads, it won’t come true,” Remus says, shaking his head as he falls into step behind you. Remus asks you about the book he recommended. Bashful, you confess you haven’t finished. He feigns shock but it’s short lived. 
“That’s okay, no spoilers then, for now.” He points a finger in warning. “I can’t make any promises for next time.” Next time, you really like the sound of next time. 
As the night marches forward and the weather grows colder you find yourselves in the three broomsticks, steaming butterbeer warming you from the inside out. Talking to them is borderline dizzying. You’ve never had such undivided attention. Remus listens to everything you say like he’s taking notes, and Sirius like he’s drinking you in, hanging off of everything you say. He has a sharpness to his eyes that would be intense if he wasn’t practically melting into James. James smiles like he has everything in the world.
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago
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When Eddie is introduced to Jonathan, they both give each other a look that says “if you say anything, you’re dead” and naturally, Nancy clocks it immediately.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” they said at the same time, only growing the suspicion.
“Seriously? Do you know each other already?”
“No!”
“Yes, but-“
They glare at each other, but Eddie speaks up again.
“He bought from me a couple times. No big deal.”
Nancy looks between them, shakes her head. “There’s something else going on. But we’ve got bigger problems.”
And they did.
For months, their problems seemed to get worse by the day. It was a great distraction.
But honestly, anytime Eddie spent more time with Jonathan, it got harder not to say how they actually knew each other: a make out session in a bathroom at a party when Jonathan was yearning for Nancy.
He told Steve eventually, had to with the way he kept finding ways to avoid being around Jonathan and Steve got suspicious.
“If he said something to you about us, I’ll take care of it. He doesn’t get to say shit about what makes us happy.”
And Eddie couldn’t have Steve lose another fight, so he told him.
“So wait. You and Jonathan…”
“Made out. Yes.”
“Like…with tongue?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember tongue being involved.”
“And hands?”
“They were there too.”
Steve puts his hands on his hips, lifts one to wipe over his face, then settles it back on his hip. “And you liked it?”
“Considering at the time my options were Jonathan or the girl in Hellfire who insisted I wasn’t gay because I looked at her during campaigns, yeah. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve been through.”
Steve huffed. “Yeah, but like. Compared to me-“
“Oh my god.”
“What?!”
“I cannot believe you’re jealous of Jonathan Byers. Again.”
“I’m not! I’ve never-“
Eddie raised his brows. “Never? Not once?”
“That was different!”
“That was worse.”
“I dunno, finding out your boyfriend has made out with the only other guy in Hawkins who’d be up for it is arguably worse.”
Steve pouted for hours. Eddie let him.
It was cute, alright?
And when he got over it, they made out for hours in his bed.
Steve, of course, was the one who told Nancy.
In his defense, he was very high, and Nancy had been pushing him all night, from the moment she caught wind that he might know how they knew each other.
Eddie went inside to grab them all water, and she pounced.
By the time Eddie got back, Steve was half asleep and Nancy was smirking at Eddie.
“You could’ve just said.”
“He’s never getting high for free again.”
“He’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s back to being a paying customer, too.”
Nancy laughed, startling Steve into opening his eyes. He smiled up at Eddie, no clue he’d just given up one of their secrets.
“Hi, baby. You know Nancy didn’t know about you and Jonathan?”
Eddie glanced over to see Nancy rolling on her side, laughing hysterically.
“Yeah. I’m sure that was on purpose. How about we get you to bed, superstar?”
He managed to get Steve onto the couch, where he immediately passed out.
Nancy hugged him, kissed his cheek, like she always did before leaving.
“It’s not a big deal, you know. He’s mentioned that he isn’t only into women. We’ve talked a lot about the Argyle situation.” She walked towards the door. “Steve will get over the jealousy eventually. It’s not like Jonathan wouldn’t have made out with him if he could have.”
She left before Eddie could respond.
Eddie suddenly understood exactly what Steve was feeling.
“Not gonna happen,” he mumbled to himself before joining Steve on the couch and pulling him close.
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quillcraftconquer · 3 months ago
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TW: Angst (?), Divorce, little sad lol, WIP
John Price is a good dad.
When he’s home, he’s present. He changes diapers. He feeds the baby. He helps out with bath and bedtime routines. He’s up at every cry he hears.
But that’s not why you left him.
He’s a great dad.
Except he didn’t know what size diaper your son wore, or that he preferred to be bounced, not rocked. He didn’t know what time to give him his last bottle, or when to lay him down. It had only been six months since you had your son, and John was gone for over half of it. You knew he had to be busy, but fuck, you gave up everything, and it felt like he gave up nothing. You quit your job. You left the SAS. You stayed home. You took care of the baby. It wasn’t necessarily because you wanted to, either, but someone had to, and you knew John wouldn’t.
It ate at you that you knew John wouldn’t.
“I need help.” You begged him, and when he offered to have his sister or his mother stop by more often, you knew it was a lost cause. You didn’t want them. You wanted John.
You remember when you reached your breaking point. You laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as you listened to your baby cry for over an hour.
John said “I’ve got it.”.
When you finally burst through the nursery door, eyes blazing as you watched John attempt to rock him, again, you snatched your son from John’s arms. Your son was hungry, a cry only someone who spent countless hours with him would recognize. You gritted your teeth in anger when John tried to take him back.
“I’ve got him”
“Give him to me”
“I can do it”
Finally, you remember your anger boiling over, screaming at John through hot tears that he couldn’t even change a fucking diaper without asking you what size, or how much to feed him, or that he liked to be bounced and not rocked.
You remember the grief that filled John’s eyes when you pushed him out of the nursery, slamming the door in his face as he stuttered. You remember laying the divorce papers and your ring on the counter the next day, packing a bag to take you and the baby to his sisters until he left for deployment again.
You remember every feeling that rushed into your heart when he left, leaving the signed papers on the countertop.
When you moved out, he was on deployment. When you FaceTimed him for the baby, he always ended the call with “I love you.”. You could still see the flash of gold on his hand in the video.
You refused to say it back.
On the rare occasions he did come home, your house was the first stop he made. You would always meet him at the door with your son to exchange him, knowing if you let him any further, he would fill the spaces in your home with memories of him.
Until today.
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year ago
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hoodie season || Chan x Reader
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Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.
A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.
Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!
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It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?
It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.
“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”
He nods, and that’s all there is to it.
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It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.
After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.
“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”
You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.
“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”
“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.
He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.
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 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.
“Just in case you get cold.”
You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.
“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”
Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.
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 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.
He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.
“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.
Chan beams.
His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.
You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.
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It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.
He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.
“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”
“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”
It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.
“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.
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You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.
It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.
Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.
“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.
You miss the way he pouts at you.
It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that?” you ask with a frown.
Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.
“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”
You blink at him.
“…because they’re your hoodies?”
He opens his mouth, closes it.
“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”
You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.
“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”
The blush spreads.
“Do you like it when I wear them?”
You’re just having fun now.
“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”
You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”
He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.
You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.
So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.
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