#you’re worth all the doubt and nerves and patience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ayyy-pee · 6 months

Text

Chapter 11 - Kickflip

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: You and Choso take things to the next level.

Genre: Skater AU

Chapter Warning: Smut,P in V Sexy Time, Cunnilingus, Phone Sex, Profanity, Mutual Masturbation?, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex (don't be like them - WRAP IT UP), Creampie (at least we're on bc), Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior

A/N: thanks for your patience on this one! i took my time because i REALLY wanted to do this chapter justice. it's been a LONG journey to get here. this chapter ended up being JUST under 12k words omg. I hope yall enjoy!

When Choso pulls back, you find yourself chasing him, a small whine falling from your lips before you can even try to stop it. It’s pathetic really, how eager you are to be close to him after just this short time apart. He’s traveled for competition longer than this and yet, now that you’ve gotten a small dose of what life would be like without Choso within your reach, you’re positive that you never want to experience it again.

He chuckles softly, thumb caressing your cheek as you stare up at him. Those beautiful brown eyes of his seem to almost glow in the dark, hypnotizing you. You're not sure if you’d ever gotten lost in anyone's eyes the way you do Choso's. You’re so lost in them you barely notice when his lips begin to move, calling your name quietly. You only snap out of your daze when Choso cups your jaw in his hand and leans forward to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“So…” He looks away for a moment. Like he’s wondering if it’s worth asking. But it must be because he asks anyway, “how did the conversation go?”

Ah, right. With everything that had happened tonight, and the intensity of it all, you had forgotten you let Choso know you would be heading to Suguru’s to talk.

Earlier that evening…

You’d called Choso before texting Suguru that you were heading his way. He was a little taken aback since the first thing that had left your big mouth after Choso said “hello” was “I’m on my way to Suguru’s place”.

“Huh…” was all Choso could muster.

You quickly scrambled to recover. It probably wasn’t the best idea to start off your first conversation in days by telling him you were heading to the apartment of the man he despises.

“Sorry! What I meant to say is I’m heading over to Suguru’s…to end things. For good.”

“Oh.”

The silence hung heavily between the both of you and you wondered if maybe you’d gotten the wrong idea from the voice message Choso had left you. Perhaps when he said he wanted the chance to sit down and talk, he truly meant he simply wanted to talk, and maybe end this messy affair you had dragged him into. And if that were the case, could you really blame him?

“He’s here by the way,” Choso mutters, pulling you out of your anxious thoughts. “At the park…” It’s then that you can hear the distant sound of wheels on pavement, so familiar to you after all this time.

“Oh, that’s awkward.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, though it’s only been some days, you hear that cute little puff of air that you know as the sound of Choso trying to hold in a laugh. It makes you smile. You wonder if he’s smiling with you.

“Will you be okay going alone?” He asks.

Would you? You were nervous, of course. You’d become accustomed to having Suguru in your life regardless of how awful he was. But you had no doubt in your mind that this needed to happen. In order to secure your future, in order to show the man on the other end of this call that you were serious about him, you needed to do this – alone.

You inhale deeply, trying to steel your nerves. “Yeah. I– It’s gonna suck, but I’m ready to let this go…to let him go.”

You hear Choso hum distantly on the other end, followed by a light tapping noise just before you feel your phone vibrate. Oddly enough, it’s a text from Choso.

ChoCho: It’s getting weird. He thinks I don’t see him watching me from across the park.

ChoCho: I’m gonna hang up. Good luck over there. Come meet me here when you’re done? We can talk.

The line goes dead…

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the present. Choso’s question echoes in your thoughts. “How did the conversation go?”

“Not well,” you finally answer. “But that’s not my problem anymore.”

To this, Choso hums. “No, not anymore. Are you alright, though?”

Choso’s voice is gentle when he speaks, concern evident in his tone. He’s still holding your cheek, eyes scanning your face and your hand comes up to hold his wrist. You nod.

He is so perfect. You wish you had realized it sooner. You would have saved yourself, but more importantly Choso so much pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” Your words are failing you now, at the worst moment and you bite down on your lip as you try to gather your thoughts. Choso waits patiently for you, as always, and it makes you bite down just a bit harder. You know you don’t deserve him. You’re the lucky one here; the real winner between this fucked up love triangle you’ve been forcing everyone into over the last few months.

His dark, piercing eyes bore into yours, and the kindness and care you see in them makes you tear up. The tears prickle along your waterline and you almost want to throw your arms around his neck so you can bury your face and hide your tears there.

“I’m so sorry, Choso,” you breathe shakily. He holds your gaze steadily. He’s always steady. Never wavering. The security he provides you only makes you more emotional and you have to swallow down the sob that's threatening to come. “Really…I can’t even begin to tell you how fucking sorry I am.”

“You have no reason to be sorry.”

“Stop, I do!” You argue, voice rising. He always gives you grace, always finds a way to make it seem like you weren’t a piece of shit stringing him along. He’s only ever truly been upset with you once, that you know of - the day of the photoshoot. It was the first time you’d seen Choso lose his composure, really show how upset he was with you and this whole situation.

And while you want to tell him to yell at you, stop excusing your actions, to be angry with you – because honestly, he should be furious with you – you know better than anyone by now that Choso wears his heart on his sleeve. What he feels in the moment, you’ll see, without hesitation. So, you inhale deeply, calming yourself before you continue. The last thing you want to do is turn this into some big spectacle, although there’s no one around to actually witness it this late at night.

“I’ve been dragging you along all this time, Choso. And you…you’ve been so patient and so kind and understanding when you didn’t have to be. I’m just…so sorry.”

Choso purses his lips as he takes your hand in his and squeezes softly. “I chose to stick around because I wanted to.” He brings your hand up to his mouth, presses his lips gently to your palm with a sweet kiss. “Because you were worth it.” Another kiss to your hand. “I just needed you to realize you were worth it, too.”

Your vision blurs, hot tears falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You don’t want to cry in front of Choso. You don’t deserve to cry in front of him, but when you left Suguru’s and rushed to the park, you didn’t have much hope. You fully expected Choso to tell you he was done with you, that this was over.

You’d expected a “thanks for ending it with that loser, but it’s too late”. And you would have had to swallow that and accept it. It would have simply been your karma. So to be sitting here with Choso who sprinkles kisses along your skin…Well, the overwhelming thought of the night ending very differently has your emotions running wild.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you meet Choso’s gaze. His eyes have hardly left yours for a moment, even as he places delicate little pecks to your wrist, up your forearm. He leans forward, lips continuing their path as he kisses your shoulder. You tilt your head to the side so he has the space to trail those sweet kisses up your neck. And then he’s running his lips along your jaw, up your cheek.

The skatepark is empty, the only evidence of anyone around being the soft sighs from Choso and your quiet gasps when his lips touch the spots he knows make your knees weak.

And even in this wide open space, the air inside the little bubble that you and Choso reside in already feels thick with desire. With the way Choso licks at the most sensitive areas of your neck, groans quietly against your skin, you have an idea of where this night is soon to be headed.

You’re ready.

“Cho–”

You don’t have the opportunity to finish, the sound of Choso’s broken name falling uselessly between you as Choso seals his mouth over yours. Every kiss is tender, almost hesitant. It’s careful.

Just so Choso.

And that’s all that’s on your mind; the incredible man before you – Choso…

…who cups your cheek so gently as he pulls away and he asks…

“Will you…” A whisper into the kiss, and your brain is still stuck on Choso…

…whose soft lips caress yours again, just for a moment before he speaks once more…

“Come…”

You’ll go anywhere with him. Anywhere with Choso…

…who kisses you again, more passionately this time.

“Back to my place?”

And you nod without delay, because you have only a single thought rattling around in that head of yours…and it’s Choso.

- - - - - -

The air seems to have only gotten thicker between the two of you.

Choso had offered to follow you home, waited for you to pack your things and take you back to his place. It was then that the mood truly began to shift. From the moment you’d slid into the passenger seat of Choso’s car, it became a matter of whether or not you and Choso would even make it through the threshold of his home without tearing the other’s clothes off, the unspoken anticipation slowly eating at both your patience.

After placing your bag in the back of his car, Choso leaned over to grab the seat belt and buckle you in.

It wasn’t as if that was the first time Choso had done that for you. He always made sure to get the door for you, strap you in, ensure your safety. But this time, as Choso pulled the belt around your body, hand lingering so close to your chest, there was this spark of electricity between you that felt so intense, you could swear you heard it buzzing throughout the vehicle, felt it tingling along your skin. You know Choso felt it, too. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and how he was careful not to touch you when he quickly secured the belt around you and clicked you in before putting the car in gear and driving off.

It happened once more when you finally pulled up to Choso’s house. Too in your own head and not paying attention, you’d opened your car door without looking only to run straight into Choso’s hard chest. He caught you easily, both arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while your palms rested flat against his pecks.

And there was that buzz again, radiating heavily between the two of you. The spark had always been there between you and Choso. This low, constant hum that kept steady. But tonight…tonight, this electricity felt dangerous, in the most exciting way.

You watch Choso’s gaze drift to your mouth, watch how his tongue pokes in his cheek. He’s kissed you already tonight, but he seems hesitant now. His hands grip onto the fabric of your clothes like he wants to pull you into him but he’s resisting the urge.

Maybe he thinks you’re not ready to take the next step with him. Or maybe he’s trying to take things slow for his own sake. Knowing Choso, he probably doesn’t want to give you the wrong idea. Doesn’t want you to think he only asked you to stay over because he’s trying to sleep with you. Another thing you really like about him, but you don’t give a shit about that right now.

Your heart is racing, pounding against your ribcage in anticipation. You’ve only got eyes for this man and you want him to wreck you. And it’s apparent he wants to do the same. You see the desire in his eyes, the way his pupils are so dilated his eyes are practically black as he stares down at you.

Your pulse quickens the longer you match his gaze. Then you finally speak, a hushed “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” Choso asks. You feel his hands tracing up and down your spine and your skin ignites with goosebumps.

“Yes.”

“And what exactly were you thinking?” His voice comes out rougher, raspier than normal and it only sets the small fire in your core ablaze.

“That I couldn’t wait to be with you…be alone with you.”

“Hmm.” His tongue slides along his bottom lip and your eyes snap down to the motion.

You want to kiss him again, taste his tongue on yours and have him taste you.

“Do you want me?” He questions. His hand slowly slides down to rest on the small of your back and just his touch has you so turned on you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out into the night.

“So badly, Choso,” you confess. Choso watches you squirm beneath his touch, trying to contain yourself. He’s trying to do the same, but he’s slowly losing the battle.

Every time you speak, every time you peer up at him with those pretty eyes and even prettier lips, he’s that much closer to losing himself to you. And he knows he will lose himself in you once he has you completely. Your taste has haunted Choso since spending your first night together. The memory of your mouth on him has taken over his thoughts more times than he can count. He daydreams of you constantly.

He needs you.

Choso releases his hold on you, then reaches into the back seat of his car and grabs your overnight bag. “We should get inside then.” He tells you. He swiftly turns around and you practically run after him, following him towards the entrance.

When you reach the front door, Choso lays his hand on the doorknob. Instead of turning it, he pauses briefly, then turns to you. And his stare shoots straight to your core. It reminds you of the very first time you’d ever been intimate with each other. Your cheeks warm and your heart thrums excitedly in your chest. You don’t dare look away.

Time seems to stand still, even as Choso pushes the door to his home open. Even as he takes your hand in his and lifts it to his lips, eyes still locked onto yours.

And your head swims once again with nothing but thoughts of Choso…

…who has never been anything but patient, kind and gentle with you…

…which is why it shocks you just a bit when Choso roughly slams his bedroom door, pinning you between it and his large body. His lips capture yours hungrily, greedily, desperately. Like kissing you is what keeps his heart beating. Your thoughts are foggy, Choso the only thing on your mind. You feel lightheaded from the intoxicating way Choso kisses you right now. You think you’ll float away if he stops.

He breaks the kiss, groaning when you take his bottom lip in your teeth and suck lightly. “Can I ask you something?” He mutters when you release him. There’s a crimson hue that has now appeared on Choso’s cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. It’s so cute.

You make a mental note that it seems when Choso is feeling shy or nervous, that’s where he blushes the hardest.

“Anything,” you answer easily.

Choso bites down on his lip, looking you over. When his eyes settle on yours again, there’s something different in them, something hungry. His gaze falls back to your mouth and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel Choso gently press his thumb to your lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, thumb gently caressing along your bottom lip.

Then he kisses you, his thumb still on your lips, like he’s so desperate to taste you that he couldn’t be bothered to move it. It’s quick, one or two pecks and then he’s back to absentmindedly watching his thumb stroke along your mouth again.

Every kiss is becoming more and more dizzying, has your heart beating so fast, and so hard that you think if Choso leans just an inch closer, he’ll be able to hear it.

And if only you knew that if you leaned just an inch closer, you would hear his own heart clawing at his ribcage as he asks, “Are you mine now?”

Your hands find Choso’s chest and you ball the fabric between your fists, confident when you answer him. “Yes.”

And it’s true; you’re his.

But your answer doesn’t satisfy the man before you just yet. You see it in the frown line that forms between his brows, in the way his eyes stare into yours, searching.

“I need you to say it,” he demands. His large hands grip your waist now, and he’s leaning forward to press his forehead to yours, eyes drifting shut as he inhales deeply. “I need to hear you say that you’re mine now…just mine. Nobody else’s…” Choso’s hold tightens, only slightly. “Because you have no idea how much I want you right now. I want…” He pauses, taking another deep breath. “No, I need you to be mine. I won’t share you again.”

Your pulse picks up, the need in Choso’s voice only making your heart slam faster, if that’s even possible. You loop your arms around Choso’s neck, pulling him down just enough for your lips to touch. You want him to hear it when you say it. You want him to feel it when you say it. Feel it against him, feel it in him. And know that you mean it.

“I’m yours, Choso,” you whisper against his lips, and you can feel him melt into your embrace, a heavy sigh leaving him as he presses himself into you. “Only yours.”

Choso’s mouth finds yours, lips slotting against you, greedily swallowing every moan you let out as his hands trace a path to your waistband. He toys with the fabric between his fingers for a while, his lips now busy kissing and sucking what you’re sure are marks into your neck. This is a side of possessiveness you haven’t seen in Choso before.

It’s so fucking arousing. The way Choso tugs at your waistband, how he nips at the skin on your neck just before he runs his tongue over the mark to soothe the sting. You’re whimpering with every bite. You’re so painfully turned on, you can’t help but to push your hips forward, meeting Choso’s hard length confined within his pants. Then it’s Choso’s turn to whimper, face buried in your neck as he meets your hips, pressing himself into your groin again and again.

Choso wants to have you so badly, he can’t think straight right now. All he knows is that he wants you, and you want him. That you told him you’re his, and he’s always been yours. His heart swells with this news. This type of happiness is foreign to him, but he wants to get used to it…with you.

He kisses his way down to your collarbone, where he sucks new marks as his hips continue to grind into yours, pressing you harder and harder against the door. Your skin, your sweat, your taste on his tongue is intoxicating, and he only wants to have more.

“There’s so many things I wanna do to you,” he rasps, as he tugs at your waistband again.

“Yeah? Like what?”

To this, Choso hums as he leans back to look at you. “Honestly?”

Your brow arches, a slow grin spreading along your face. “Have you ever been anything but honest?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I always say what I mean. I always mean what I say.” He’s kissing along your neck again, pulling moan after moan from you as he breathes into your skin, “I wanna taste you, love.”

Love.

It’s not like Choso is telling you he loves you. It’s simply a term of endearment. And yet, the pet name has your silly little head spinning.

“Wanna make you cum on my tongue again.” He trails kisses down your throat, your chest, talking to you along the way. “You know the first time you did it?” He scoffs to himself, like he can’t believe that happened. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. I still think about it.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, watching Choso’s slow descent along your abdomen, where he leaves sweet smooches along the way.

“I’ve been thinking about doing it again…” He’s on his knees now, fingers still hooked into the waistband of your pants. He kisses your left hip and your mouth falls open with a quiet sigh, clearly a sensitive spot for you. “Been hoping to do it again. So please…” Choso leans over, kisses your right hip and you can’t help the broken whimper falling from your lips. He peers up at you, brown eyes blown out with lust as he asks, “Will you let me taste you?”

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a sexier thing. This man who has quickly become everything to you, on his knees, begging for you to let him have a taste of you…

Suddenly you’re very aware of the extreme wetness pooling between your legs. You feel self-conscious for all of a second before you meet Choso’s lustful stare again. How could you deny him when he so clearly craves you?

You place your hands on top of his, pushing down and letting Choso drag your pants and panties all the way to your ankles before you kick them off to the side.

“You can have all of me,” you breathe. “I’m yours.”

Choso feels his heart skip.

“I’m yours.”

The words echo in Choso’s head, over and over until he can think of nothing else but you. Which is not unusual for him, but it feels like now that you’ve confirmed you’re his and his alone, he has this strange urge to also claim all of you.

Choso sits back on his knees, admiring the view as he cards his fingers through his loose hair. Is that all it takes to make you putty like this? Have you absolutely drenched with arousal? A few kisses to your neck and your chest? Your panties were drenched when he pulled them down. And the apex of your thighs, your pretty lips…they’re all soaked with evidence of your desire for him.

It makes Choso think that Suguru must not have been that good to you. Which is a pity because you’re so fucking beautiful when you look so disheveled like this. But that’s okay. He’ll treat you right. He’ll worship you like you deserve to be worshiped.

But he needs to pull himself together first because he’s not much better off than you. Clearly, a few kisses to your neck and your chest are enough to make him putty as well because he’s so turned on by just the sight of you. His dick is screaming to be released. He can’t seem to pull his eyes from your core, and he’s not sure if he wants to. He wants to taste you desperately. Even more so when his eyes drift up to yours and find you already looking down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy breaths of anticipation.

You want him just as badly as he wants you. And he doesn’t want to keep you waiting for another fucking second.

Choso closes the distance, pressing a soft kiss to your bare pussy and you shiver, the coil forming low in your belly already getting tighter by the second. You blame it on all the teasing looks, and the building tension on the drive over. The coil only grows tighter when Choso fully dips his tongue between your folds and begins lapping at your core. Your head falls back against the door, eyes closed tight as you concentrate on simply trying to keep yourself from crashing to the floor the moment Choso’s tongue immediately finds your clit like it’s muscle memory for him, licking light circles.

“Ah, Choso–” Both your hands hold onto his brown locks.

He opens his mouth, presses his tongue flat against your clit, and places loud, wet kisses to your pussy. You quickly lose yourself to the incredible feeling of his tongue lapping at you. He’s as amazing as he was the last time he was between your legs. Just as skilled, just as attentive, finding any and all spots that make your legs tremble even in the slightest. And he enjoys every reaction you give him. Every cute little sigh, every broken moan of his name…Choso loves when you say his name.

Because it’s his name on your tongue, no one else’s. Because it meant you were only focused on him. His name falling from your lips was honest, gentle, and seductive. And each time you sighed it, moaned it, or whimpered it, it made Choso work harder to bring you closer to your peak.

A guttural groan comes from deep in Choso’s chest as he hooks an arm beneath your thigh and puts your leg over his shoulder and you gasp because now he’s somehow even deeper. His tongue teases at your entrance and you feel yourself clench around nothing, the light taps against your hole prompting it to seek for something to enter. Choso hums, the vibrations running straight through to your clit and you whimper softly.

His tongue is incredible, skilled as it runs flat across your cunt and sends shivers up your spine every time it rubs the bundle of nerves. Your mind is working overtime trying to keep up with your body. Every lick and smack of Choso’s mouth against you has your skin tingling.

Choso is attentive, carefully finding what spots make your breath hitch and staying there until you’re crying out his name. He wants to make a mess of you before the night is over and he’s going to be sure to do it. And by the way your back arches against the door, and your hands pull at his hair, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to take much anyway.

He pushes further into your pussy, seeking better access while his hands hold your ass.

“Fuck, fuck,” You gasp when Choso sucks hard on your clit just before he flicks that tongue of his over it.

“Shit,” Choso groans into your core. “Taste so…” he drags his tongue through your folds. “...fucking sweet, baby.” Choso’s cock is throbbing between his legs. Your fucking scent, your fucking taste. He’s so drunk on you. He never wants to stop devouring you.

You’re panting above him, soft moans rushing past your lips as your legs start to shake around Choso’s head. And while he doesn’t want you to cum yet, he wants to taste your release on his tongue again. Then he wants to feel your body wrapped around him when you cum again while he’s buried deep inside of you.

With his free hand, Choso runs his index finger between your folds, gathering your slick before he stops right above your hole. He teases at your entrance, reveling in the way you tug at his hair impatiently. You so clearly want him to fill you, stretch your walls in any way possible. He’s happy to oblige. He glances up to see you staring down at him again, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as your chest heaves. Your breaths come harshly. You look so beautiful, so ready to be fucked, so ready to be his.

He keeps his gaze on yours as he presses his finger forward, dick pulsing when your walls clench down on his thick finger immediately. God, he wants to feel you around him so badly. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Choso pushes into you until he’s knuckle deep. He’s grateful he’s been eating you out, the wetness adding to the ease in which he’s able to slip in.

“You’re so fucking tight. So tight, love,” he grits out, being met with a loud moan in response to his new pet name for you. Choso pulls his finger back, slowly pushing it back in and your grip on his hair tightens, making him increase the pace in which he fucks you with his finger. His mouth latches back onto you.

“M-more, baby,” you beg. “I need more.”

“Mmm,” Choso hums into you as he slips a second finger into your dripping cunt.

It’s like music to his ears. The way you cry out his name, the deliciously lewd squelch when you grind yourself against his hand, the slurping sounds from his mouth as he devours you.

You don’t want him to stop, don’t want this to be over, but you’re rapidly approaching your climax. And as much as you’re loving this feeling, you know you don’t have much longer until you reach your peak. Because the way Choso’s tongue runs over your heat, how his fingers somehow find the exact spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, how your heart races when you look down and see Choso staring back up at you, eyes full of all his desire for you, it’s enough to send you over the edge.

And it does, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm crashes over you without warning. You feel Choso’s free hand grip your thigh to keep you steady. It’s so intense, you don’t even realize you’ve bent forward, clutching desperately onto Choso’s shoulders. It’s so intense, you can’t even hear the garbled cry of Choso’s name leaving your lips over and over. All you can see is white behind your eyelids as you ride Choso’s fingers and tongue through absolute ecstasy.

When you straighten back up, Choso pulls back from your core, lazily pumping his fingers into you. You’re still squeezing down on him, so tight even as you’re catching your breath. And he wants to give you a moment to breathe, but there’s this primal part of him whose patience is wearing thin.

So he stands, pulling his fingers from inside of you, crashing his lips into yours and swallowing your whimpers. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue as he tangles the muscle with yours. The kiss is sloppy, a mix of both your saliva and release.

And it’s intoxicating.

It sets you right back at square one, a messy puddle with arousal dripping between your thighs.

All for Choso.

He places his hands beneath your thighs. Gently, he lifts you, carrying you to his bed where he lays you down on your back. Choso slowly crawls along your body, a hand coming up to brush his knuckles across your cheek. His eyes stare softly into yours, silently asking for your consent. Because he’s ready to take that next step if you are. To solidify what Choso intends to be a full on committed relationship.

And you nod, because you believe him. Because you trust him. With your body, but mostly importantly, with your heart.

“I’m going to take good care of you,” Choso promises, still gazing into your eyes before kissing you tenderly. “I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt me. Never going to break your heart.”

“I know,” you tell him. “I won’t ever break yours again.”

It’s a promise you intend to keep.

You cup your hand to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and bring him down for another kiss. Choso groans softly into your mouth and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his. Your tongues dance together as Choso slips his hand down the hem of your shirt and under, his fingers ghosting back up to your breasts.

A quiet gasp interrupts the kiss as Choso’s long fingers find your nipple, taking the soft bud and rolling it between his thumb and his index finger. He pulls back slightly, watching intently as your expression beneath him changes from tender and adoring to lustful, raw with desire as you arch your back to push your breast further into his touch.

Choso has seen this look on your face less than a handful of times. And each time, the look shoots straight to his dick. He releases you for the briefest of seconds before he’s reaching down to hurriedly lift your shirt over your head. He tosses your top to the floor, doing the same with his own shirt right after.

His eyes rake over you and your breasts, drinking in the way your nipples seem to further harden the longer he stares.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells you, now that he can see you in all your nude glory. Just perfection.

Choso dips down to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts before taking your right nipple in his mouth. With his free hand, he takes hold of your other breast, caressing gently as his tongue rolls over your nipple. He tries not to smirk too hard when your hands find their way into his hair again, which Choso is beginning to find to be his favorite part of making you come undone. He loves the feeling of you trying your damnedest to bring him impossibly closer to you.

Your head lolls back, Choso’s tongue flicking over your hardened bud only serving to intensify the pleasure already building up in your core again. At this point, there’s a nagging worry in the back of your head that you’re absolutely soaking Choso’s sheets with your arousal. But you can’t bring yourself to care when Choso releases your nipple from his mouth with an obnoxiously wet pop.

He adjusts himself between your thighs, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, along your jaw and back to your lips. You feel him roll his hips forward, his own arousal evident between you. A gasp rushes past your lips when you feel his hard erection pressing insistently against your center, hot, heavy and pulsing. It leaves you breathless.

“You like that?” Choso questions, grinding his hips into yours once again and only receiving your moan in response. “Like feeling how hard you make me?” He dips down to place a kiss beneath your jaw. “Do you?”

Another grind of his hips. And you’re sure you could cum just like this.

“God, yes,” you whine quietly. “I love feeling how hard I make you, baby.”

Choso groans, rolling his hips forward another time, please with your answer. You can feel the smirk on his lips when your grip in his hair tightens as you moan.

“Wanna feel you, Choso,” you whimper. “Please.”

And it’s all Choso needs to hear before he’s lifting his hips, pushing his pants down and kicking them off to the floor in what feels like one swift motion. You spread your legs wider for him, giving him room to fully settle back in. The feeling of his bare cock resting between your slick folds has you both shivering with pleasure.

“This okay?” He asks through gritted teeth. Because of course he does. He never wants you to be uncomfortable.

“It’s so good.”

Choso’s lips find yours and he kisses you hungrily. It feels like hours of you both making out, tongues tangling as you adjust to finally being a step closer to fully having each other.

But when your hands, already buried in Choso’s locks, tug just right, he can’t help the pathetic whine that falls from his lips. Nor can he help the way his hips stutter. And neither of you can help the loud moans that come when Choso’s length slides along your soaking pussy.

“Ah…” You hear Choso exhale shakily above you, jaw taut. You can feel his thighs trembling slightly between your legs, like he’s trying to resist moving.

But you want him to move. So you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his as you move your hips, grinding his length between you. The ridges of his cock drag deliciously over your clit. You press your hips into Choso’s again and again. You don’t want to stop. And neither does Choso apparently, because he begins to meet every roll of your hips with his own until it’s just the both of you exchanging moans between you as you grind against each other.

“Fuck, babe. So damn wet,” Choso grunts.

“Just for you, Choso. You make me feel so good,” You kiss him sweetly, swallowing his whimper when you praise him.

He keeps fucking himself against you, pulling away from the kiss to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

The heat from your pussy engulfs his cock. And it’s dizzying. He wants to be inside of you, but he can’t seem to pull himself away from just the sensation of your sopping cunt slipping and sliding against him. It feels too amazing. So good, Choso’s afraid he’s not going to last much longer here.

He’s desperate for you, has been desperate for you for some time. And the buildup that he’s had to endure in the span of having his face buried between your thighs, swallowing every drop of your cum and now losing himself to your pussy before even getting to be inside of it has him ready to explode.

It’s almost embarrassing to ask, but he wants to do this with you. If you agree, of course. So before he loses himself, even as the heat rushes to his cheeks and the coil in his groin tightens and threatens to snap, he whimpers out a quiet, “are you on birth control?”

You almost miss it, because your brain is frazzled, overstimulated because you’ve only just recovered from your last release and your next is coming up quickly. But you still hear it.

“Y-yes,” you answer, moaning when you feel Choso’s cock throb between your legs. And he’s thrusting against you just a little faster now, breaths quickening.

“I need to cum in you,” Choso grits between thrusts. “Need to fill you up with me. Need to make you mine.”

Your eyes widen, not because you're offended or surprised at how blunt he's being. Choso has never been anything but honest. You’re more surprised at the immediate flood of arousal that's just seeped between you both, only making more of a mess because of the way he's speaking to you. Your moans only spur Choso on, your core tightening because this new possessiveness Choso has been revealing tonight turns you on to no end.

“Yes. God, please.” You hear his breath hitch against your skin when you moan your response.. “I want your cum, please. Fill me up, Choso.”

“Yeah, baby?” Choso hisses against your skin. “Want me to?”

“Please, please. Gimme your cum, Choso, please. I want it.”

Choso digs his hips into yours roughly, the pressure to your already sensitive nub suddenly pushing you over the edge sooner than you thought. Your cry echoes throughout Choso’s room as your legs wrap around his waist, squeezing shakily as your orgasm rips through you once more.

And Choso is still fucking himself against you, loving the way your pussy is practically screaming for something to fill it. And when the sudden feeling of his own release shoots up his spine in a rush, Choso is happy to do so. You need no time to adjust, Choso dipping a hand between you and guiding his tip to your entrance. He pushes his entire length in, bottoming out easily and groaning hoarsely when your sweet, slick walls wrap around him, convulsing hard. You feel better than he imagined. So hot, so tight, so wet.

Choso rears his hips back, then rolls them forward again, sinking into you, slowly, and your body's reaction is immediate. Goosebumps ignite along your skin. Your heart races and your breath hitches as you savor the incredible feeling of every ridge and vein stroking along your walls, every pulse of his length as you take more of him, stuffing you so full you can hardly breathe. You writhe beneath Choso, moaning when Choso pulls his hips back once more before he’s wasting no time slamming into you frantically as he chases his high.

“Gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum, baby,” he grunts, balls slapping messily against your ass. “Need to fill this pussy. Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Shit.”

You’ve never seen this side of Choso before. It’s a new feeling to him, too. Choso is certain he’s never felt this way about anyone else before. But he can’t help it. He feels some primal need to suddenly claim you now. Because he has to. Because he can.

He wants to be sure that everyone knows you’re his.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” Choso begs. Because even he’s still having a hard time believing it. He’s got his head between your breasts now, pounding into you desperately. “P– please. Say it, baby. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your back arches, hands leaving Choso’s hair to grip at his sheets when the tip of his cock taps your sweet spot. It almost makes you cum all over again.

“Oh my god,” you gasp as your eyes roll back. “F–fuck!” You can barely form a thought with the way Choso splits you open. “I’m…ah– I’m yours, baby. Only yours.”

It’s exactly what he needs to hear. Every rough drive of Choso’s hips has you crying out for him, has you clenching down on him so hard that it’s impossible for Choso to not be overcome with the sensation of his climax violently washing over him. His mouth falls open, loud groans mixing with your cries as he bottoms out once more, pushing himself as deep as he can go before he’s spilling into you, pumping you so full of his seed that he’s sure it’s dripping onto his sheets. But he can’t be bothered to care. Not when your pussy hugs his cock so tight, milks him for all he’s worth.

Choso kisses between your breasts, up your chest, your neck, all the way up until he reaches your lips. His dick twitches with every spurt of his cum. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop. Even as you both catch your breath, and he’s quietly moaning sweet words to you, he can still feel himself pulsing with the shockwaves of his release.

He kisses a trail down to what he’s now discovered may be his new favorite spot – the crook of your neck – and moans lowly against you, still fucking into you slowly, draining himself of everything he has to offer. “God, your pussy is so perfect. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Choso breathes.

You laugh weakly, unable to do anything but attempt to catch your breath. Your chest rapidly rises and falls as you come down from your second release. Choso presses one last kiss to your neck as he pulls his finally softening length from you with a hiss. He climbs off of you, laying on your side and pulling you into his arms where he buries his nose in your hair.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, almost like he’s embarrassed about the way he acted a few moments ago.

You wrap an arm around him, hand finding his back and rubbing light circles. “I’m great.” You gaze up at the man, and he gazes back down at you, a small smirk curling on one side of his lips. You stay like that for a long while, your feelings for each other, and all the words left unspoken finally being seen in each other’s eyes.

It’s Choso who breaks the silence.

“We should shower,” he suggests. He knows there’s a mess to be taken care of before either of you can relax comfortably. “I’ll start it and get this cleaned up.”

You nod, glad you thought to grab a bag before coming over. It’s easy to agree to a shower when you’ve got everything you need right here. You reluctantly pull yourself from Choso’s embrace. You sit up, about to get up to go find where you’d tossed your things when you’d fumbled in together, but you feel Choso’s large hand grab your wrist.

“Hey…” he calls to you.

You turn back to him, brows arched in surprise. “Yes?”

But Choso doesn’t say anything. He just…stares at you. And there’s a tenderness in his eyes that you’re certain you’ve seen before. It’s the same look he had when he met you at the park earlier that night, like he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to just yet.

Instead, he sits up, presses one last soft peck to your lips. And then he’s out of bed, in the bathroom before you can blink and running a shower for you.

- - - - - -

After your showers, you and Choso lay in each other’s arms in his now clean bed. Choso hasn’t let you go since you’d crawled under the covers. It’s cute, the way he clings onto you like you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip for even a second. But you’re not going anywhere anymore. You’re content here, where you were always meant to be it seems.

“When do you go back to work?” Choso questions suddenly. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice. You know he must be tired. It’s the late hours of the night now, and the next day is slowly creeping in.

“I’ll be off next week and then I’ll go back.”

“So you can spend the week with me, then.” It’s not really a suggestion. Choso says it as if he’s noting that you’ll be with him for the week.

You giggle, and Choso snuggles even closer to you if that were possible. “Oh yeah? What are we going to be doing?”

Choso hums in thought. “I have a competition a few cities away. You could come with me.” You try not to be too surprised by this offer. Because you’ve never received it before. And it’s nice to finally get it. Choso’s hand holds the back of your neck, thumb slowly stroking back and forth along your skin. “I’ll only be there for a couple of days. You can come with me, watch me skate without the looming pressure of getting a good shot. We’ll hang out and come back.” He presses a small kiss to your forehead. “Like a long date sort of thing.”

You think about Yaga’s advice to take the next week off and get your shit together. Breaking things off with Suguru for good was the first step, and you and Choso just spent the entire night taking your relationship to the next level. Now he’s asking you if you want to spend more time taking things further. It’s a no brainer for you.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

- - - - - -

After your night with Choso, you’d spent the week with him as planned. You turned your phone off, resisting the temptation to check on work or see what your friends may be up to. You wanted to be fully focused on Choso and your new relationship. And you were glad you did. It gave you two a chance to truly spend uninterrupted time with only each other.

Choso had won his competition, of course, and despite the little promise you made to leave your camera at home, you couldn’t resist turning your phone back on for a few minutes while he skated. You couldn’t help it. You loved your job, you loved being behind the camera. And there was something just so majestic about the way Choso skated. It would be such a shame to not capture those moments. And surprisingly, you’d managed to get some incredible shots of him on your phone, which you promptly set as your screensaver.

Admittedly, you loved the way Choso’s ears practically glowed bright red when you showed him your screen.

But the week came and went in a rush and now you’re back at work. You thought your return would be awkward, your team having not seen you since the incident at the cover shoot. And yet, everyone was warm and welcoming upon your return. Funnily enough, quite a few of your team members had stopped you in the halls to quietly thank you. For what, you’re not sure, but you guessed it may have something to do with giving them front row seats to watch Naoya Zenin get pummeled.

You made a mental note to pass their thanks along to Choso, who shyly admitted to you one day that he loved the feeling of knocking him on his ass.

It was about three weeks after your return to work that the higher ups switched up your routine. You went from taking on assignments for the skating department of the magazine to researching up and coming athletes for a new department that was being built. This meant you were busier now than ever. It also meant you were traveling more. It started as small trips. You were never gone for more than a day and you’d be back at Choso’s as soon as you were in town again. But the constant travel still meant seeing less of your boyfriend. Thankfully, he was understanding of this. Work came first, but you still felt guilty.

Just when things were starting to become stable between the two of you, work soon became the new third wheel. But you both made it work. When you traveled, it was Choso dropping you off at the airport. And it was Choso picking you up from the airport. You talked so often that you never truly felt like you were away from him.

Until now.

The higher ups set their sights on a new, rising talent and apparently, it had to be you out there getting the winning shot. So they’d sent you out of town. Well, out of the country. Apparently, it's the peak of the season right now and with so many other talents popping up around the world, your higher ups are eager to be the first to capture this particular talent in action.

So here you are, outside of the country, posted up in some fancy hotel room by the beach. It’s pitch black outside, but you can still just barely make out the ripples of the waves on the dark, moonlit water. It’s the reason you’re here, and the reason there’s a rush to get this new department up and running back home. Your higher ups want to start honing in on the surf world the talented athletes, and they are hoping you can be the one to capture the perfect photo for their next cover to introduce the surf segment.

There's a surf competition tomorrow that will be happening midday, but if surfers are anything like skaters, you want to be there in the early hours of the morning. Thanks to the hotel staff, who are local to the area and some even involved in the surf scene here, you had a lead on your target. And if your sources were correct, the person you were hoping to capture in action before the crowd arrived would be there. After much research, you'd discovered the best time to get in the water was right around sunrise, so you planned on trying to beat the crowd.

But for now, you find yourself on your phone on a video call with Choso. Freshly out of the shower, you throw yourself down face first onto your hotel bed. The sheets feel like a warm hug, reminding you of Choso. So soft, so comfortable, and you feel the jetlag begin to seep into your bones. You may even fall asleep like this. Who cares if you're still in your robe?

"Oh my god, this feels like a cloud," you groan into the blankets. Choso's deep chuckle reverberates through the phone and fills the space in your lonely room, fills the space in your once lonely heart and you can't help the goofy grin on your face now.

You miss him.

"Should I be jealous?" Choso jokes, watching as you prop your phone up next to your bed before getting comfortable and snuggling beneath the blankets. "You never cuddle with me like that." He pokes his bottom lip out in a cute pout and your heart leaps. Choso has really started showing his sense of humor. It’s adorable.

You roll your eyes playfully, grinning. "That's hilarious seeing as how you always want to be the little spoon in this relationship. I'm almost never not cuddling you."

To this, Choso shrugs, still laughing when he mutters, "Well, maybe when you get back you can hold me the same way you apparently hold hotel duvets."

"And how is that?"

"Like you lov–" He cuts himself off, lips pursing like he just caught himself about to say something he shouldn’t. But you're not stupid. You know exactly where that was headed. And you’d be lying if you said that word didn’t try to claw its way up your throat on occasion.

But you're not sure if now is the right time. Things are still so new with Choso, so fresh. Because while you've been with each other for awhile now, there's always been one other person lingering. Now that they're gone, it's a fresh start on the story that is just you and Choso. This time around you're not going to fuck it up.

You can't rush to say those words. They need to come when the time is right.

"I miss you so much," Choso breathes quietly on the other side of the phone. He's looking away from the camera and you notice now that he's also propped his phone up next to his bed. He's in a black tank top and pajama pants, sitting up against his headboard. You can just make out that the sun is beginning to peek through his curtains. Suddenly you're reminded of your time difference. While the stars paint the deep blue of the night sky for you, they fade away for Choso as the sun rises.

"I miss you, too, babe."

So bad it hurts.

“When do you come back?”

You sit up in the bed, propping yourself up against the headboard to match Choso’s posture. “In a few days. I’m kind of following this guy through the next few towns to try and get the perfect picture. The sun was already setting when I got to the hotel, so I didn’t have time to check out the beach and find where the best shot would be. I’m hoping he’ll be out there during the sunrise tomorrow.”

Choso nods quietly, eyeing you through the camera. “Watching the sunrise with another man? Romantic.”

You roll your eyes at his little joke. “Jealous?”

He nods immediately. “Of course I am. You’ll be at the beach, watching the sunrise with someone who isn't me, your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the word. You know it’s not coming from a place of true jealousy. He simply loves bringing up the fact that there’s no other man as important as him in your life anymore. Another little sign of possessiveness Choso shows now that you actually really like and find to be very sexy.

If you were with him, you would have crawled into his lap and shown him there was absolutely nothing to be jealous of. Instead, you pout. Because you hate that he’s so close, and still out of your reach. You want to be able to touch him, kiss him, please him.

And then a little lightbulb is going off in your head, an idea forming. You shift around, smirking when your robe loosens and the shoulder droops down, exposing your collarbone and Choso’s favorite little hiding spot. The one place he loves to bury his face in aside from between your thighs.

You watch as his gaze drifts down to your skin and he inhales sharply. One thing about Choso is that on the night you’d made things official and he told you he would never get enough of you, he meant it. Just like he meant everything he’d ever told you. Choso was insatiable, always hungry for you. There was hardly a day when you were in each other’s presence that you didn’t somehow end up tangled in the sheets, hidden away in the bathroom or whatever dark room you could find where you could completely devour each other. All of this time spent apart between both of your travels must have been eating away at him. It was definitely taking its toll on you.

“I really miss you,” Choso repeats. His eyes are still stuck on your bare shoulder, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Wish I was there with you.”

You hum, gripping the fabric of your robe and sliding it back up to cover your shoulder, grinning when you hear Choso huff. It’s fun to get a rise out of him sometimes. You slide the robe down again, just a little further, a little wider so that more of your chest is exposed. “I wish you were here with me, too, babe.”

You see Choso shift, a hand coming down to palm at his crotch and you can just barely make out the outline of his erection beginning to form beneath the thin fabric of his pajamas. You watch, almost in a trance as he adjusts the bulge in his pants. So unashamed, not even trying to hide the fact that simply seeing your shoulder has him hard. And seeing the effect you have on him makes your own body react, makes your breath hitch your core throb.

“I wanna see you,” Choso states. His eyes settle on the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t even noticed that your robe had begun to slip further.

Your fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your robe together and you let it fall from your shoulders, leaving your nude form fully exposed for Choso. Your boyfriend licks his lips, fist now gripping his fully erect cock through his pants, stroking slowly over the fabric as his eyes rake over you.

You suddenly feel shy, awkward. It’s just you here even though Choso is on the other end of the line. It doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re alone in this room, sitting naked on the phone. You feel a little silly doing this. You reach for your robe again, but freeze when you hear Choso’s voice come from the device, a rough “Don’t” stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes follow his movements when he reaches to pull his shirt over his head. Then he lifts his hips, hands tugging his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, already glistening with precum. Now you’re licking your lips, wishing so badly that you were there to take his pretty, tan cock down your throat just the way he likes.

“Baby…” Choso moans as he wraps his hand around his dick.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask, breathily. You can feel your center wet with your arousal as your eyes lock onto Choso’s motions.

“Touch your tits for me.”

You do as you’re told immediately, sliding your hands up to your chest, teasing yourself while Choso watches you. Cupping your breasts, you whimper as you run your fingers over your hardening nipples. You roll the sensitive buds between your fingers, pinching them gently, moaning in response to the grunt you hear from Choso on the other end.

“Feel good, baby?” He asks. Through drooping eyelids, you can see him lean forward slightly in bed just before he spits on the tip of his cock and uses his hand to spread the slick fluid. His head falls back against his headboard as he groans. Then his eyes are back on you through the screen, hot and filled with desire. “Does it?” He asks again.

“Ahh…yes,” you sigh, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches against your headboard as you imagine it’s Choso who is touching you, caressing you, squeezing you like this. You want him to be here, pleasuring you like this. The thought alone has more arousal dripping from your cunt and you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

“Fuck– so damn beautiful.” Choso’s hips buck up into his fist, mouth slightly agape while he watches you tease yourself. “Open your legs, baby. Let me see you play with that pretty pussy.”

“I wish I could touch you,” You whine as you spread your legs for him. “I wish you could touch me.” Choso’s stare follows your hand as it slides between your thighs. He bites his lip, gaze stuck on the way your fingers spread your glistening folds and find your clit, gently rubbing the little nub and he tightens his grip as he pumps his hand up and down his length. Your eyes flutter closed as you pleasure yourself.

“Doing s-so good, baby,” Choso praises you through gritted teeth, stroking himself slowly. “So pretty. So…ah…so perfect like this.” He brings his free hand down to his balls, gripping the two orbs in his palm and gently squeezing. “Watch me.”

And you do, knowing that there’s just something so fucking arousing about what you’re doing right now that you don’t stand a chance of lasting much longer. You watch as Choso spits messily on his cock again. You watch as he strokes himself faster. You watch as his face scrunches with pleasure and how that tattooed line across his face crinkles every time he squeezes his eyes shut to focus on staving off his release when he gets too close.

“So hot,” you tell him. “I want your cock so bad, baby.”

“It’s yours,” Choso groans, hands tugging at his balls. “Fuuuck, it’s yours any fucking time you want it.”

Your pussy is soaked, begging for Choso to fill it. You moan as you play with yourself, your other hand coming down to rub light circles around your entrance. And you can feel how tight of a fit it will be even with your own fingers because you so desperately clench with need for Choso.

On the other end of the line, you see the thin line of precum dripping from Choso’s tip and onto his hard abdomen. Every thick vein running along his cock has your mouth watering. God, he’s gorgeous, losing himself to you by just watching you lose yourself to him. The image is so sexy, you want to burn it into your mind so you never forget it.

“Use your fingers,” Choso pants, moans and whimpers falling freely from his lips now. You love it when he becomes a whiny mess like this.

Hurriedly, you bring two fingers to your lips and slip them into your mouth. You suck your fingers, getting them nice and wet. Then you bring them back down to your entrance, the earlier wetness helping when you push your fingers in. You clench around the digits immediately and your eyes close for just a moment.

“Watch me.”

You remember Choso’s earlier request and you open your eyes to find Choso staring back at you. Jaw clenched, nostrils flared. His chest rises and falls with every harsh breath as he fucks himself into his fist. And now you’re a writhing mess, knuckles deep in your own cunt, trying to hide the way your thighs are twitching and how your head is spinning with each movement through your walls.

“Can’t wait to see you,” you tell Choso who can only reply with a low groan.

You’re so close to your end. You feel your thighs trembling with every pump of your fingers, with every tight circle rubbed along your clit. Your fingers just feel too good. Especially when Choso is encouraging you on the other end of the phone, and getting off to you at the same time..

Choso doesn’t seem to be much better off. He’s got his head back against his headboard, hips moving frantically while he drinks in the way you moan for him.

“God, I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy of yours so good when you come back home to me.”

It’s a promise from him. Because Choso never says anything to you that he doesn’t mean.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask, curling your fingers in your walls to find the spot that takes you over the edge. A quiet gasp rushing past your lips when you reach it, legs quivering at the incredible sensation.

“Fuck yeah.” Choso’s breathing turns ragged, hips slamming into his fist. “Gonna fuck your –” He pumps himself faster, squeezes his balls harder, brows knitting together as his hips come up. “shit…gonna…ah– fucking…shit–” He doesn’t get to finish his thought, hands gripping his balls as they tighten, and he paints his abdomen with thick ropes of cum. The moan that leaves Choso is low, guttural, arousing.

And as you watch Choso’s cum leave his tip and land on his bare skin with a loud slap, you’re sent to your own peak, walls clamping down on your fingers and convulsing as your orgasm takes over. Your eyes roll back, spine arching away from the headboard and it takes everything to not close your legs and stop. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the intensity of your release making you cry out for your boyfriend.

He’s watching you as you cum, slowly stroking his softening cock while he tries to catch his breath. And he’s never looked more beautiful. Cheeks dusted a rosy pink, chest flushed with a sheen of sweat, loose hair sticking to his forehead.

He’s perfect.

He’s yours.

- - - - - -

In the morning, the chilly ocean breeze greets you. The earliest rays of sunlight are just beginning to peek above the horizon. The waters are fairly calm right now. Not at all what you were expecting. And it makes you a little uneasy. It almost feels like something is waiting just around the corner for you. You’re not sure if you should be worried.

But you don’t have time to give to this feeling.. Not when your eyes land on your target, right where you’d been told he would be. He fits the description you were given to a tee – tall, deep tan skin with what appeared to be purple hair braided back into cornrows. He doesn’t have the look of a typical surfer.

No wetsuit, but instead baggy shorts and a baggy t-shirt, which you weren’t sure would hold up well in the water. Perhaps he only wore it when practicing. But what would you know? Your speciality is skateboarding.

He hasn’t seen you yet. His eyes are glued to the small waves of the water while his board lies discarded next to him. You’re thankful he hasn’t seen you. You’d hate to get an earful this early in the morning if he sees you skulking around. From what you’ve heard, the man is a bit elusive and not a huge fan of getting his picture taken. Which only made him all the more appealing for your company. They were desperate to get this guy featured on the cover.

You take a few steps towards the stranger before you feel your phone buzzing incessantly in your pocket. You couldn’t be more grateful that the gentle roar of the water covers the sound. Quickly, you fish your phone out and check your messages. The most important one lies at the top.

Yaga: Check your email for the next assignment ASAP. Big event for your department, so I’m trusting you with this one.

Yaga: Don’t make me regret it.

Your thumb swipes through your apps until you find your email. You open the body of the email to find the details Yaga was telling you to review. The competition header is the first thing you lay eyes on:

TOKYO SKATE LEAGUE COMPETITION OF THE SEASON

Okay, so it’s for a skate competition taking place in a couple of weeks. You don’t pay it much mind. It’s the list of competitors that catch your eye.

Choso Kamo

Momo Nishimiya

Naoya Zenin

Suguru Geto

Noritoshi Kamo

Junpei Yoshino

There are other competitors on the list, but you’re not familiar with them.

Competition summary: Individual skaters will go head to head in a tournament style competition with scores being graded by judges. The last one standing will receive a five year contract with the sports magazine of their choosing.

You wonder if Choso has seen this list. You’re sure he has. He’s a part of it, so he would have had to sign up to enter. But, your stomach twists. It feels like the photoshoot all over again. No wonder Yaga gave you that warning in his text. No wonder something felt off today. No wonder the sea was so calm this morning. The storm had yet to come.

You inhale deeply, making a mental note to call Choso later about this.

Then you see movement from the corner of your eye, your target moving to pick up his board and leave towards the other end of the beach. So much for your plan of quietly sneaking up and talking with him. You rush forward, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you call after him.

“Excuse me! Mr. Hakari!”

And in your hurry to catch the man, you miss the new text message coming in.

Unknown Number: Looks like I’ll be seeing you and your boyfriend soon. Looking forward to wiping the floor with pigtails

271 notes · View notes

frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Just Like Magic

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Yelena invites her new best friend to hang out and ends up having to share. (Combined requests from @emilyprentissslut and anon)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!milf!wandanat with younger (21+) reader, dom/sub dynamics and mommy kink, a bit of manipulation/coercion, smut: oral, penetration, bondage, slight edging, nipple sucking

A/N: this took forever to write and I was going to post it where I last left off, but as long as I took with this, I wanted it to have somewhat of a proper ending. although I did leave off in a way that I could add onto this if I decide to later! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

“You finally made it.”

The blonde girl offers you a sarcastic smile as you pass her on the threshold, your eyes wandering for a moment while she locks the door behind you.

“I told you that I couldn’t come over until 2.”

“As if you have anything more interesting going on.”

Yelena grabs your arm and leads you into the kitchen, giving you a playful shove toward the island as she continues to the refrigerator. You hop onto one of the stools, placing your bag on the floor beside you just in time to catch the bottle of water tossed directly at your face.

“I see your reflexes are still working,” she teases as another voice cuts in.

“That’s no way to treat your guests, Lena.”

The taunting grin on your best friend’s lips shifts to a scowl as two women come into view. Their eyes seem to be glued to your form, one pair holding a welcoming gaze and the other an air of indifference. Yelena gives them your name and identifies the pair as Natasha and Wanda, and Natasha steps closer to you with her hand outstretched.

“Don’t listen to our little dorogoya.” Natasha nods toward the younger blonde with a teasing smirk. “We’re her mothers.”

“That’s not technically true,” Wanda clarifies over Yelena’s incoming protests. “We do love her like we created her ourselves--”

“But mentors would be a more accurate ‘M’ word,” Yelena adds, pushing past the pair to grab your bag from the floor. “Let’s go before they say something else that makes me gag.”

“It was nice meeting you!”

Your words are rushed as you scramble out of the kitchen, trying to avoid staring at Natasha while she subtly unzips her hoodie. Her hand releases the zipper once you’re out of sight, but Wanda grabs it to finish the job.

“You’re a tease,” she comments while raising her tank top, and Natasha places her hands on her cheeks with a smile.

“Tell me what she’s thinking.”

“She’s definitely interested, but she needs more.” Wanda lowers her head and touches her lips to one of Natasha’s exposed nipples. “I think I need more, too.”

Natasha bites her lip and threads her fingers through her lover’s hair to pull her flush against her chest.

“Then take it.”

“Wait!” you call out before Yelena can throw the ball again. “Where's the bathroom? I have to pee.”

“You Americans and your weak bladders.” She rolls her eyes playfully as she plops on the ground to take a seat. “It’s the last door on the left.”

You enter the house again through the sliding door of the kitchen, passing through the room to the hallway. The bathroom is easy to locate and you’re in and out pretty quickly, but soft musical notes floating through the crack of a door stop you before you can make your way back outside. Opening the door further reveals a staircase heading toward what you assume is the basement, and before you have time to form doubts, you find yourself descending.

The music guides you to another cracked door, and you freeze in your movements when you notice Natasha and Wanda in the far corner of the room. Making sure you’re still out of sight, you take a look around the parts of the room you can see from the doorway, and it doesn’t take long to figure out what the space is for. There are various ropes, chains and ball gags hanging along the walls, and shelves hold harnesses, vibrators and dildos of all sizes.

“Flavored lube?” Wanda eyes the bottle curiously as she takes it from Natasha.

“Yeah, I figured it would be fun to try.”

“As if you don’t taste amazing enough on your own,” Wanda places her hand on Natasha’s chest, causing her to chuckle.

“It’s not for us, love.” Natasha raises her brow, and her wife seems to have a look of realization.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind a little help getting this inside of her.”

You nearly give away your position with a gasp when the red haired woman holds up a harness with a protruding length that seems almost as big as her forearm. Deciding you’ve seen way more than you were meant to, you head back upstairs as quickly and silently as you can, trying your best to ignore your wandering thoughts as you join Yelena again.

“What took you so long?” she scowls as she jumps to her feet again. “You were staring at that ugly painting on the wall, weren’t you?”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” you argue, turning your back to grab your water and give yourself extra time to catch your breath.

“If you keep chugging that, you’ll have to pee again.” You hear her laugh before you feel the ball lightly hit your back. “But I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You had yet to discover if she was right or not.

“Dinner was amazing. Thank you, Miss Maximoff,” you address Wanda as she collects everyone’s plates, not quite meeting hers or Natasha’s eyes until she stops in front of you.

“You can call me Wanda, honey. I don’t mind at all.” She offers you a sweet smile before looking past you toward Yelena. “Lena, do you mind helping me clean up? I need to show you something anyway.”

Yelena opens her mouth, fully prepared to make a comment about Wanda being able to handle the whole house with a simple flick of her wrist but a pointed look from Natasha stops her.

“Sure.”

You watch her grab everyone’s glasses and follow Wanda into the kitchen, and you release a quiet yelp when you feel Natasha grab your chin a moment later. Your eyes widen when you realize just how quickly she traveled to your side of the table from her chair, and you feel nerves settling in as her eyes study your form.

“You’re a gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?”

The longer you stare at her, the calmer you feel as the desire to push her away leaves your body. She moves her thumb and presses against your lips forcefully until you part them, her smile widening as she begins rubbing along your tongue and your lips close around her.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me. Do you think you can behave like this for Wanda, too?”

“I would hope so.” Wanda’s voice fills the room again as she reenters, placing one hand on your neck as she lightly kisses the other side, just below your ear. “You wouldn’t want to be punished before you’ve even had a chance to be rewarded, would you?”

“No, Wanda,” you answer the best you can around Natasha’s thumb, and her grip on your neck tightens.

“You call us Mommy now.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Perfect, printsessa,” Natasha praises as she pulls her hand away, Wanda also stepping back as she pulls you to your feet. “Now why don’t you lead us downstairs? I believe you already know where to go.”

“You knew I was there?” you ask timidly and Wanda laughs.

“Why do you think you went down there in the first place?”

Natasha grabs your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove toward the hallway. You cautiously lead the two women toward the basement door, glancing into the kitchen and feeling a knot growing in your stomach when you don’t see Yelena at all.

The door is locked behind you once you reach the intimidating room again, and you’re pushed onto a bed before each woman grabs one of your hands and chains you to the wall. Wanda straddles you and kisses you eagerly, moving her hips to grind her covered pussy against yours. Vibrations pass between the two of you as you moan into each other’s mouths until she pulls away and stands on the mattress to take off her panties.

“You think you can make Mommy cum like this?” She challenges while lifting her dress and lowering herself to sit on your face, a quiet moan escaping when you press your tongue against her clit in response. “Good fucking girl.”

“What about while your other Mommy fucks you?”

You can feel Natasha removing your pants and underwear, bending your legs at the knee as she joins the two of you on the bed and hooks her arms around them. You can already feel yourself clenching a bit in preparation for what you know is coming, and a muffled moan escapes you when she runs the tip of her tongue along your folds.

“What does she taste like?” Wanda cries out to her lover while you suck on her clit desperately, and Natasha pulls away just long enough to answer.

“Like she was worth waiting five months for.”

Wanda continues to ride your face, forcing herself to keep going past her orgasm while Natasha teases you relentlessly with her tongue. Just when you think she might let you cum, she pulls away abruptly, leaving you whining into Wanda’s pussy and grinding against nothing.

“Patience, printessa,” she scolds you from across the room. “You don’t get to have things simply because you want them.”

You jump and let out a sound that’s a cross between a yelp and a moan when her hand smacks your sensitive clit, gasping when the slap is followed by the head of a dildo running through your folds toward your entrance. Bucking your hips toward it causes it to slip inside you a bit, and Natasha groans at the sight.

“Look at my pretty pussy so eager to take me.”

She takes her time easing half of the length into you as you clench around it occasionally, thrusting gently for a bit and then roughly pounding her way in until her hips are nearly meeting yours with every powerful stroke. If Wanda wasn’t keeping you muffled, you’d be screaming right now. From pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell the difference anymore, you just knew something inside you felt amazing.

“Whatever you’re doing to her, Tash, please don’t stop,” Wanda calls over her shoulder through gritted teeth in between groans. “She’s fucking killing me right now in the best way possible.”

“Don’t worry...” Natasha roughly tugs your waist to bring you closer and Wanda scrambles to balance herself on the mattress as she continues to ride your face. “You know I don’t plan on letting her go anytime soon.”

2K notes · View notes

citrinesparkles · 3 years

Text

patience, love.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 1317 words. notes: okay. maybe this got a little out of hand. maybe a simple idea grew legs and ran right out of my grasp. maybe i got carried away. i can admit that that may have happened here. (4 times he didn't say i love you. 1 time he did.) warnings: food, patching up wounds, bad self doubt. angst in the beginning.

♡ "i love you," you were warm and content from dinner, and the words slipped from your mouth and over his counter before you could stop them.

not because there was any doubt in your mind- there wasn't, at this point, you knew you loved him like you knew the sky was blue- but because you were afraid of how much doubt was in his.

but maybe that was why you said it.

the doubt in his eyes now, wide and almost fearful as he stared at you, felt like a punch in the gut.

"is that okay?" you asked over the sound of the forgotten faucet and steady drip drip drip off of the scrub brush frozen in his hand.

"you shouldn't." he croaked it out, voice scratchy and weak, viciously tearing his gaze down from your eyes.

you opened your mouth, protests on the tip of your tongue, but he only shook his head.

"please. just... not tonight."

♡ you found him on your balcony, leaning against the railing and staring at the horizon.

the sunset painted the sky pink and purple and red, vivid colors washing over him and catching in his hair and highlighting the scars visible around his t-shirt.

"whatcha need?" he asked gently, acknowledging your presence without looking back.

"you." it was the truth, even if you said it with a playful grin. he healed something in your chest, soothed every break and wound on your heart, quieted the noise in your mind.

a small huff of laughter escaped him, floating into the evening air, as pink and warm and beautiful as the sky. "you have me."

"good." you dropped your head against the doorframe, letting your features relax into a gooey, affectionate smile as you watched his hair shift in the breeze. "love you."

he tensed for a few moments, and you took a deep, silent breath to push your own nerves back down.

it was hard.

a not-so-small part of you hissed that you would scare him off, chase him away by admitting the depth of your feelings again. that despite him being by your side through thick and thin, your love of all things might be the final straw.

he did push back from the railing, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach.

but instead of brushing past you and walking out the door, his hands found your shoulder and your hip and delicately, slowly, cautiously pulled you to his chest.

when you almost immediately melted against him and tucked your chin into his shoulder, his arms slid around your back and held you as close as possible. held you as though you were the most important thing in the world.

he couldn't say it yet, but maybe this was his way of saying it anyway.

♡ "i'm heading out, jase." you leaned over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek. "be good, okay? love you."

he hummed, eyes trained carefully on the tv. "just be safe. and don't forget you're out of pickles."

♡ it had been a very, very long day.

you were very, very tired.

and, as shuffling into a freshly cleaned apartment that smelled like your favorite meal reminded you, very, very attached to jason todd.

you stood silently for a moment, taking note of what all had been swept or dusted or vacuumed, how the blanket you'd left haphazardly on the couch was now folded neatly, and the old lopsided chair you kept meaning to fix was now sitting at attention.

just- seriously, this man was going to be the death of you.

you set your stuff in the corner by the door, neatly kicked your shoes off against the wall, and followed your nose into the kitchen.

his back was to you. he was swaying gently to the jazz playing in the background, hands busy in front of him, and he looked relaxed and happy and the domesticity- the simplicity- of it all was enough to make tears prick at your eyes.

(maybe the ache in your head and feet and- well, okay, all of you- had something to do with that, but he was much nicer to think about.)

"the chair, huh?" you greatly enjoyed the way his motion stuttered for the briefest of moments at the sound of your voice. "you get sick of looking at it?"

he turned to face you, his brow furrowed and cheeks dusted with pink. "i- maybe. maybe a little."

"dinner, too, huh? what'd you do, break something?"

"what? no, i didn't- i'm just-" he stopped, eyes narrowing at you. "you're messing with me."

"maybe. maybe a little."

he groaned, turning back to the counter and grumbling playfully. "i try to be nice and this is the thanks i get."

you chuckled, moving forward to slip your arms around his torso and lean into his back. "sorry, sorry."

"no no, by all means, keep making fun of me. i know it's your favorite hobby."

"i'd make fun of you less if you weren't so cute when you get all pouty about it, y'know."

"i do not get all-" another groan escaped him, and he dropped his head forward into his hands. "would you please just go get into some pajamas so we can eat? stop trying to give me a migraine?"

your laughter was muffled slightly by his t-shirt. "fine." you reluctantly pulled away from the most comfortable moment of your entire day and headed towards the doorway, pausing for a moment just inside of it. "hey, jay?"

he dragged his hands down his face dramatically, looking over his fingers at you. "hm?"

"i love you too."

the soft smile he gave you was worth every single minute of frustration and exhaustion that had led up to it. "yeah, yeah, get out of my kitchen already."

"it's my apartment-"

"gooooo."

♡ your bathroom was bright, cold, and smelled like hydrogen peroxide and blood.

his blood, mostly, but you really didn't think he'd take well to being asked for details just yet.

plus, you weren't totally sure you wanted to know.

regardless of where it came from, the truth was the red liquid had soaked through his shirt and coated his gloves and you were pretty sure some had gotten on your cheek, somehow, before you'd managed to get him cleaned up and bandaged.

now, he rested on the edge of the wet tub and let you gently work a towel through his freshly washed hair that smelled like your shampoo.

you could feel his eyes on you as you stepped back to grab a comb.

"hey, baby?"

stepping back into his space, you hummed in acknowledgement.

"i..." he cleared his throat, inhaling sharply. "i love you."

you froze, eyes snapping down to find his trained carefully on the ground in between the two of you.

you could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders, the way his hands were gripping the wall of the tub. the way he was avoiding your gaze like it would burn him.

"i love you too." you knelt down in front of him, fingers tracing his cheek and jaw and falling to where his neck met his shoulder, gently hovering over his pulse. "you know you don't have to say it, right?"

he nodded sharply, slowly softening under your touch. finally meeting your eyes. "i want to. you deserve to hear it. you deserve a lot more than that."

"you deserve to be comfortable, jason."

a small heh escaped him. "i don't know if i deserve it, but if there's one thing you do, it's make me comfortable."

"good. that's more important to me than hearing you say a few words, okay?"

"okay." he leaned forwards, dropping his forehead against yours and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, cradling it against his collarbone. "as long as you... as long as you know."

"i know, handsome, i promise."

#citrine writes #jason todd #buries my face in my hands #don't look at me ok #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dc #dc imagine #dc imagines #food cw #medical cw #imagines

677 notes · View notes

breakyeol · 3 years

Text

touch it (sensual oils)

one shot

┗ pairing : baekhyun x reader

words: 4k

warnings: smut, sensual massage, byun-booty, hand job, light overstimulation

a/n; because baekhyun deserves it

Baekhyun had a bad day.

That much was glaringly obvious from the very moment he stepped through the door, looking about ready to crawl beneath your bedsheets and never come out. He collapsed into your arms with a pathetic whine the moment you rose from where you were situated on the couch, the full weight of his body thrown against your chest. You grunted at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping your arms around his slim waist when you felt his knees beginning to give out.

“Baek!” You yelped, struggling feebly to support the both of you. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m too tired to stand,” he cried out dramatically, voice muffled against your shoulder, “my body feels like it’s turning into mush.”

You clicked your tongue at his familiar dramatics, a fond smile flitting across your lips in spite of yourself. “Oh my poor baby~” you cooed playfully, petting the top of his head, “they worked you into the ground?”

A heavy pout tugged at the corners of his lips, big droopy eyes swinging up to meet yours as he bobbed his head. “I’m already sore. I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.” He complained noisily, hands curling into tight fists around the material of your sweatshirt.

This close, you could easily make out the lingering scent of sweat clinging to his skin, and you didn’t doubt for a second he worked until he was drenched in it. There was a flash, an image that passed before your eyes, of Baekhyun, sweat rolling down the smooth slope of his chin, dripping from the fringes of his bangs, glistening enticingly above his brow, his mouth pink and open, gasping. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, and your attention was drawn back to the whining mess of a man squirming against your chest.

“Go shower,” you suggested, not trusting your voice above a careful whisper, “then come to bed, okay?”

“I don’t want to. Just hold me.”

You snickered, combing your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck, feeling the way his body melted into the tender caress. “I will gladly hold you for the rest of the night… after you take a shower.”

He only offered an unintelligible grunt in response, showing no signs of detaching himself from your body, his hold around you tightening in a display of stubborn resistance. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d keep this up for as long as your patience allowed – which, given how soft you were for the man, was a fairly long time –, but you knew you’d both be better off once he felt clean and refreshed, cleansed of the day’s many hardships.

“You’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”

A groan this time.

“I’ll make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

At that reparation, his head snapped up, eyes wide and, despite the exhaustion, glinting with a hint of excitement. His spine straightened, grip around you loosening somewhat as strength seemed to return to his muscles. “Really?” He whispered, pink tongue slipping out from between petal lips. So easy. You could’ve scoffed, but thought better of yourself, settling for a suggestive cock of your head that could be interpreted in a number of ways.

“Go shower,” you hummed, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and guiding his face down towards yours, “then… we’ll see.”

He let out a huff of breath, eyes going hooded as they flickered down to trace the smug curve of lips. “You’re mean.”

You laughed lightly, planting a kiss that was far too short for Baekhyun’s liking to his pouted mouth before skillfully untangling yourself from his arms. “We’ll see just how mean I can be once you come to bed.” You called teasingly over your shoulder, grinning in wild amusement at the low curse that followed.

It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way into the bedroom that you heard the soft hiss of the shower. You waited until you heard the low groan that told you that your boyfriend had finally stepped beneath the hot spray to permeate through the separating wall before you jumped into action.

This wasn’t the first time Baekhyun had come home looking ready to collapse and you doubted it would be the last. There wasn’t much you could do about him having to go to work. No matter what you said or how many times you told him he should give himself a chance to rest and recover, he would always put his everything into his work, because that was just the kind of man he was. He was all passion and fire and unrelenting persistence even when he felt like he might die. It was a quality that sparked both admiration and fear inside of you.

There was a certain helplessness that came with being the person he came home to after a long day of work, body and mind teetering dangerously on the brink of exhaustion. There wasn’t much you could do to ease his stress, as he wasn’t the type to verbally unload or express his unease to its full extent. Sure, he was dramatic, but only in a playful sense. That was his way of downplaying and covering up his true feelings, to both you and himself.

But, there were still other ways you could help. And, with some brainstorming and a bit of research, you’d come up with the perfect plan to help ease some of Baekhyun’s tension. Though, you had to scramble a bit to set the scene, you knew it would be fully worth it to see the look on his face.

It was just as you’d lit the final candle, completing the final touches, that you heard the shower shut off. Perfect timing. You quickly situated yourself on the edge of the bed, the cool air caressing your scantily clad body, rousing goosebumps across your skin.

But, the chills tickling your spine were little more than a second thought as Baekhyun stepped into the room donning nothing more than a towel that hung dangerously low on his full hips. He paused just inside the doorway, his brows shooting upwards as he took in the state of your shared bedroom. Wide eyes danced over the flickering candles laid out strategically across the hardwood floor to encircle the bed, swept over the scattered rose petals, before finally landing on you.

You, wearing a deep crimson lingerie set, a sheer silk robe, and nothing more.

His bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, rose sharply as his breath hitched. A low curse tumbled from his lips, almost too faint to hear over the seductive instrumentals pulsing from the speakers.

A satisfied smirk broke across your face at his reaction, pleased with yourself for having successfully caught him off guard.

“Surprise,” you sang, voice low and silken.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his own amazement rooting him in place as he visually inhaled the sight of you. Your skin was hot beneath the intensity of his gaze, blazing as it trailed torturously slow up the length of your body, not daring to miss a single detail.

A faint buzz of nerves fizzled in your gut.

You’d never done anything like this before. Presented yourself in such a way to him, that is. All wrapped up in silk and lace of only the most sensual nature, bathed in smooth orange candlelight that tickled your ankles and crept up the smooth length of your lower legs. This was something new for the both of you, something unexplored. But it also wasn’t everything you had in store.

When he moved, it was with the utmost cautiousness, as if stepping too quickly or too harshly might disturb the beautiful illusion spread before him. But still, he moved, unable to resist the temptation.

Without speaking, his hands found your face, curving around the shape of your jaw and winding around the back of your neck. They were cold against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled down your spine as he leaned over you. You let out a soft hum at his touch, head rolling back under his gentle coaxing.

Not a beat passed before his mouth found yours, eager and impatient. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, easily finding the smooth slope of his naked waist and tugging him closer. He moaned somewhere low in his throat, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lip. You allowed as much, indulging the hungry press of his mouth, the careful nips of his teeth — until he tried to lay you down.

Your palms met the swells of his chest, and he pulled away, breathless and confused. “What is it?” He asked hoarsely, licking over his swollen lips. You’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t look irresistible in that moment, wet hair hanging messily over his brows, dark, hooded eyes, all haze and lust as they stared down at you heatedly, full cheeks blushing a feverish shade of red. But you had plans for tonight, plans you didn’t intend to discard for the sake of sexual pleasure.

“I’m not fucking you.”

He gasped, disbelief coloring his features. “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you grinned, settling your hands on his hips, “I’m going to give you a massage.”

“A massa— ah!” his words cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp as you suddenly spun him around, all but throwing him down onto the petal covered mattress. He could only stare at you in shock as you crawled over his nearly naked body, mouth curved into a playful smile.

“A massage.” You confirmed, sounding rather proud. But, he still looked less than amused, so you elaborated. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks, and I know you’ve been stressed and your body is exhausted. A massage will help release some of that tension.”

“You know what else releases tension?” He asked, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You cocked a brow, feeling the light press of his fingertips as they feathered over your thighs, taking an obvious path upwards. Desire and mischief swirled in his eyes, voice low and thick as the words dripped slowly from his dangerous tongue, “Hot… passionate… s—”

You snatched his hands from your skin before they could reach their destination, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “Shut up and roll over.”

He huffed, pouting up at you scornfully but obeyed nonetheless, rolling onto his stomach. “Do you even know how to give a massage?” He snipped as you settled yourself on the back of his towel clad thighs.

“I’ve done my research.” You offered lightly, sparing a moment to admire the lithe, sinewy build of his shoulders and back before you moved, reaching for the tall bottle you’d situated on the nightstand earlier. He followed your movements from the corner of his eye, curiosity breaking through the petulant facade.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit cruel?”

“Perhaps,” you teased, pouring the translucent golden liquid into your palm, “but you’ll enjoy this, I promise. Just… relax.”

A defeated sigh escaped his chest, his body deflating beneath you. “Fine. But, this better feel better than sex or I swear to god I will—” he jolted with a soft gasp as you suddenly pressed the heels of your oil lathered palms into the area just between his shoulder blades and pushed outwards, “sue.”

You smirked smugly to yourself at the breathlessness with which he completed his sentence, obviously not having expected the pressure to feel that amazing.

“Good?” You asked, voice tinged with arrogance.

“Uh-huh,” he admitted immediately, moaning throatily as you rolled your thumbs deeply against the base of his neck, “oh fuck that feels so good.”

You chuckled, skillfully working your fingers across the planes of his broad shoulders. He melted deeper into the mattress with every knot you deftly unwound, soft, relieved moans breaking from his open mouth. The smooth, lavender scented oil glistened captivatingly on his sun-kissed skin, the delicate aroma gently permeating through your bedroom. It was a lovely, soothing smell, subtle and unimposing. You spread it diligently across the smooth expanse of his upper back, before gradually beginning to work your way downwards.

His sounds of bliss lowered in pitch the lower your hands reached, dipping into silky tenor groans when your hands reached the delicate dip of his waist. But, as you moved to massage the area just above his hips, he suddenly jolted, spine arching, a strained curse rushing from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help the concern that sparked to life in your chest at his response. “Does it hurt?” You asked, easing up on the pressure but not removing your touch completely. Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded with a soft, hesitant hum, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “What happened?”

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “I just… twisted it weirdly during practice, I guess.” He offered weakly, shivering as you poured a small puddle of oil in the small of his back.

“Did you take a break?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Baek,” your tone turned scolding as you gently worked your fingers into the tight dip of his waist, “just because you can fight through the pain doesn’t mean that you should. You’re not doing your body any favors by pushing it this hard.”

“I know but I—“ he sighed heavily, pressing his face into the sheets, “I just… don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

Oh, your poor, sweet Baekhyun. Always trying to please everyone else even when it ends up hurting him.

Pausing in your movements, you leaned forwards, bracing your hands on his shoulders so that you could speak in his ear. “Nobody is disappointed in you, Baek. You work so hard everyday to be the best you can be, and it shows. Everyone knows that you put your everything into what you do. And everyone’s proud of you,” you pressed your lips against the curve of his throat, slowly working your way up to the curve of his jaw, “I’m proud of you.”

He glanced back at you through his eyelashes. “Really?”

The question is so soft, so uncertain, and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the thought that this man truly doesn’t understand just how many people adore him for just being… him. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the rising of his cheeks, though he tried to hide himself beneath his arm, suddenly shy. You bit back a grin of your own, pressing one final kiss to the shell of his ear before returning to your earlier position and resuming the massage. He felt a dozen times more relaxed beneath you, the previous tension occupying his muscles having magically dissipated.

Sometimes, all he really needed was a little reassurance.

The smile that settled across your lips was unwavering as you took to kneading at the supple flesh of his hips, just above the top of his towel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of a thought. A mischievous, dangerous thought. A thought that had your attention lingering on where the towel was tucked and secured on his right hip. Glancing up at the back of his head, you allowed your fingers to trail discretely towards the damp, white fabric, toying with it lightly so that he wouldn’t notice — not even as it came undone.

It was only as you peeled it swiftly away from his body and Baekhyun felt the rush of cool air across his backside that he realized what had just occurred.

“H– Hey!” He yelped, swinging his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is a full body massage, Baek. It’s not a full body massage unless it’s full body.”

“My butt does not need massaging.”

You grinned, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you cocked a challenging brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Pervert.” He hissed.

You gasped, splaying a hand across your chest. “Who told you?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your antics, but put up little resistance as you nudged his hands away from his butt. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned a dark, lovely shade of pink, and he quickly buried his face in his arms. Taking that as his nonverbal cue to continue, you poured yourself some more of the lavender scented oil, overturning your palm to let it drizzle onto his cheeks. He flinched slightly, the sensation catching him off guard.

So cute. You bit into the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing at him, opting to set your hands upon the gentle curve of his ass and knead your fingers into the soft, toned flesh. Baekhyun stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering as his body responded to the soothing touch.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You asked, tone teasing.

“Shut up.”

You snickered, massaging deep circles into the muscles of his upper thigh. He groaned deeply, fingers curling into the sheets. “Right there, right there— fuck, right there. It’s so sore.”

Heat flickered faintly in the pit of your stomach at the low rasping of his voice, grunted roughly through clenched teeth. Geez, why’d he have to sound so damn sexy…

Brushing off the thought as best you could, you forced yourself to focus on massaging the tension from his hamstrings. But each brush of your fingers over the insides of his thighs, intentional or otherwise, coaxed a round of violent shivers and breathless moans from your very much nude and very much oil covered boyfriend. You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, jaw clenching as you squeezed your hands around the backs of his lower thighs.

The sounds he was making weren’t helping your… situation in the least.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked, somewhat airily as your hands glided upwards, to just below the curve of his ass before returning to the crook of his knee. The question snapped you out of whatever trance you’d put yourself in watching the way his slick, honeyed skin dipped and curved deliciously beneath the pressure of your touch.

“Re- research. Lots of research.” You cleared your throat, shifting downwards on the mattress to set to work on his calves.

“You’re hands are fucking magic.”

Warmth slipped into your cheeks at the praise, your heart picking up speed within your chest. He was making it difficult for you to focus.

“I told you you’d like it.” You hummed playfully, beginning the slow ascent back up the length of his naked body.

“You were right,” he conceded easily, sighing in bliss as your hands slid over the small of his back, “I love it. Feels so fucking good, you have no idea.”

A content (and perhaps a bit smug) smile settled across your face. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. All you wanted was to make Baekhyun feel even just a little bit better after what you knew had to be a long, hard day— and you goddamn succeeded.

“Baek,” you murmured, and he gasped softly, not expecting your lips to be right next to his ear. He let out an unsteady hum, blinking hard twice when he felt your lace covered chest press against his back, “roll over for me?”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. You lifted yourself off of him to give him just enough room to turn onto his back beneath you. All at once you were nose to nose, soft puffs of breath caressing your mouth. He was looking up at you with those eyes again, those hooded, wanting eyes, his hands clenching at the sheets somewhere down by his sides. You could see the dark flush on his cheeks, the desperation slowly seeping into his expression.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” The question was quiet, barely a whisper on his delicate pink lips. But the fire it ignited inside of you was anything but— loud, violent, and devastating, ripping your so well kept self control to shreds in a matter of moments.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sliding a slick hand down his toned stomach, “but I’m going to touch it first.”

He barely had time to react before your hand was around his cock. He gasped, back arching, forcing his chest flush against yours. Surprise flickered across your face upon feeling him already fully hard and throbbing against your palm. “Oh?”

“What?” He huffed out breathlessly, swinging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, “did you expect me not to get hard while my sexy girlfriend wearing sexy lingerie rubs every inch of my body with oil?”

Pausing, you squinted down at him. “It was the butt massage, wasn’t it?”

He glared, and you grinned.

But any annoyance was wiped clean off his face as you squeezed your fingers around him, stroking his dick at a slow, borderline torturous pace. The remaining oil on your hand combined with his precum provided the perfect lubrication, the slide smooth and wet, the lewd sound of it making you clench around nothing. Baekhyun’s head rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. But, not for a moment did his gaze break from yours. You bit your lip harshly, a violent heat licking at your veins, the sheer intensity of his dark stare making your head feel dizzy.

“You look… so hot right now.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to feel even the least bit ashamed.

The corner of his mouth curled into a sultry smirk, an airy chuckle rumbling somewhere low in his chest.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “Then kiss me.”

You did so without hesitation.

Baekhyun let out a heady groan, hands surging up from between your bodies to cradle your jaw as your lips worked against his with a hunger you hadn’t realized you possessed. It was uncoordinated and messy, all lashing tongue and vicious teeth, biting and sucking and licking until you were certain your that lips were raw. You were dizzy and intoxicated by the taste of him, and he wasn’t in much of a better state. With his cock in your hand and your tongue in his mouth, it didn’t seem like he’d last much longer.

Beneath you, Baekhyun’s hips bucked and rolled, frenzied and desperate. Your hand stilled around him, allowing him the luxury of control as he fucked himself violently into your closed fist. Each moan that tumbled from his mouth into yours was louder than the last, and you relished in the unabashed displays of pleasure, taking an immense amount of pride in knowing that you were the cause of it.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped the warning, his nails biting harshly into your shoulder, “fuck— fuck, wait— I’m g-gonna come.”

“Baek,” you panted, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss, “come for me. Please.”

His back arched, the furnace of his body overwhelmed but still trying feebly to fight back his oncoming high. Baekhyun didn’t like coming first. He’d always had the tendency of putting your pleasure above his own, making sure you came at least once (if not multiple times) before him. But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him. And you were going to make sure he knew it.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking a dark bruise into his skin while simultaneously rolling your thumb over his sensitive tip in a way that had him trembling pathetically beneath you.

“Oh god— oh fuck— y/n—!” He came with a hoarse cry of your name, hips bucking, muscles tensing, skin shivering. You felt his hot release spilling over your knuckles, slipping between your fingers. He whimpered and squirmed as the overstimulation kicked in, but you didn’t stop stroking him until he started begging. “I can’t, I can’t— baby, please—” his chest heaved and his eyes went glassy, the dangerous cocktail of pleasure and pain making his head feel dizzy.

Looking down at him, so wrecked and fucked out, with those flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, you felt your heart flutter at the same time arousal coiled in your gut. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

You relented, gently releasing his spent dick from your hold. He let out a shaky breath before tugging you into another mind numbing kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, feeling one of his hands coil around the back of your neck while the other explored the expanse of your back. It didn’t take long before they discovered the clasp of your bra, deftly unclasping it. Distracted by the skillful flicks of his tongue, you didn’t realize what he’d done until you felt the lacy fabric slip down your arms.

A giggle bubbled in your throat, and you whispered against his mouth, “naughty boy.”

His lips curled, and then all at once you found yourself sprawled on your back. “Naughty girl,” Baekhyun retaliated in a low, playful growl, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, “making me cum even after I told you to wait...”

His head dipped and you gasped softly as he nipped at the sensitive part of your throat, one hand sliding down to grip at your naked breast. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as he circled your nipple with a rough thumb.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay you back for it…”

You weren’t about to object to that.

#baekhyun fanfic #exo smut #byun baekhyun #exo #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #exo baekhyun #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fic #exo scenarios #exo oneshot #exo imagines #kpop smut

997 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Spotlight

Summary: Ashton gets back to his craft

Word Count: 2.3k

And away, and away we go!

To say that watching Ashton under a year and a half of quarantine and uncertainty was difficult would be an understatement. Watching him ride out his lowest lows as he chased for the slightest high broke your heart in ways you didn’t know were possible. Sure, there were the moments when you thought he was pulling himself out of his personal pit of hell- the immediate release of CALM a week into lockdown, the creation of Superbloom and its release, along with the mini virtual concert. But oftentimes your usually happy-go-lucky sweetheart of a boyfriend was incredibly short-tempered, the smallest of things igniting a wildfire of frustration that tested both your patience and relationship with him.

It was a tense year and a half, filled with screaming matches, tears falling like broken glass, and slamming doors. But it was also a year and a half of heartfelt confessions, new routines allowing for renewed intimacy, and selfish desires that the time would stay stopped.

Oh, but the way he lit up like the sky on the 4th of July when he learned the news that he could go back into the studio with his boys? Worth every damn thing watching his grin as he circled the date on the calendar in a wide streak of black Sharpie.

And when those studio days turned into rehearsal days? You thought he’d fall apart as he tried to spit out the words.

“BABE!” Ashton’s voice boomed the second the front door opened, loud with excitement.

“What?” you asked, coming to greet him.

Your own cheeks hurt looking at the grin plastered across his face. “Rehearsals!” he whooped.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah!”

“For tour?!”

“Yes and no. We have a show!”

“ASHTON!”

“I KNOW!” His arms were around you in a flash, picking you up and spinning you around as both of your laughs bounced off the walls.

“Dizzy, dizzy!” you called out to him still laughing.

He set you down on your feet, and then his lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. “FUCK!” he couldn’t stop laughing or smiling. “Baby, I’m so excited. I have a show. With the boys. It’s real. We’re back. If we get to do this show… God, baby, it changes everything. I- It means we really get to go back. We won’t have to keep postponing our tour. We can put out the new album. And…” the words fell in a flurry as the reality of what he’d been missing for so long being within arm’s reach again set in. A rogue tear rolled down his cheek. “Fuck, I’ve missed this feeling.”

“I’ve missed seeing you this happy,” you smiled at him, catching the tear with your thumb before brushing his wild hair from his face.

“You’re coming right?” he asked, his smile faltering as his voice took on a note of fear.

“To the show? Of course, babe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

His lips curved upwards again, but it didn’t quite match the smile he’d been wearing when he first came bounding through the door. “And tour? If we get that far? If we get that lucky?”

“Stop,” you said, holding his face in your hands. “Stop the spiral. Let yourself be excited.”

“But-” The doubts were beginning to rear their ugly head. He had already allowed himself to believe the covid shit was behind him once before.

“I don’t want the rug pulled out from under you either,” you told him softly. “But allow yourself this moment, Ash. And we’ll deal with the rest later.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a second as he leaned into your touch. When he opened them again, the kaleidoscope of colors that were his hazel eyes were soft. “I-” he started, words of how sorry he was for all the times he snapped harshly at you, how grateful he was for you toughing it out with him, and how he selfishly wasn’t ready to start missing you again a trapped jumble on his tongue. “I-” he tried again.

“I know,” you interrupted, stretching upwards to nudge your nose against his. “I know.”

~~~

While he hadn’t been able to get the words out, he found a different way of expressing himself in a way that left you both breathless and at a loss for words.

And when you woke the next morning, rolling over to find his side of the bed empty, despite your excitement for Ashton, your heart ached for the reality of what was to come of him stepping back into the spotlight.

But the bed was still warm, suggesting it hadn’t been long since he had left, and when you stumbled downstairs, you easily found him standing in the kitchen, his back to you as he poured coffee into two mugs. “Morning,” you greeted, wrapping your arms around his bare waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulders.

“Oh, hey,” he said, turning in your arms to kiss the top of your head. “You coulda stayed in bed. I was bringing up the coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he giggled. “What? Did you think I’d left already?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you let go of your hold on him. “Yeah.”

“Without saying goodbye, first? C’mon, you gotta know me better than that.”

You shrugged again, reaching around him for one of the coffee mugs. “Well, thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip.

He frowned as he grabbed the other mug. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N… C’mon, we’ve been stuck together in this house forever now. You think I don’t know when you’re hiding from me?”

“I- It’s nothing. When do you gotta meet with the guys?”

“Not for a while. Stop deflecting.”

You sighed. “The bed was empty, okay? Let’s face it. For the shitshow that’s covid, it gave us a lot of time. A lot of time we don’t normally get to share because of our jobs. And that’s all I want to say about it because I’m happy, Ash. I’m happy you have studio days and rehearsal days again. I’m happy you have shows again.”

“But you can be happy for me, and pissed about an empty bed. You can be both at the same time.”

“Yeah, but it makes me feel fuckin’ lousy, Ash. Like this is the reality of your job. We’re not strangers to it. I’m just being selfish.”

He chuckled, taking your coffee mug from you and setting it along with his on the counter. “I’m not ready to miss you either.” Then his arms were pulling you in close to him, his hold both strong and gentle. “Wanna be selfish with me before I have to leave?” he asked, his breath hot on your neck, the kiss hungry as it traveled up the column of your throat to your lips. “Be selfish with me until we can’t.”

And how could you deny Ashton’s request when he held you, looked at you, and loved you the way he did?

~~~

A couple hours after Ashton left for rehearsals, you left yourself to go surprise him. The house was too quiet without him, and rehearsals were different from regular studio time. More special in a way you couldn’t put words to.

For some reason you were nervous as you pushed your way into the studio, his head snapping up at the sound of the door. “Baby!” he grinned up at you from where he was sitting on the floor next to Calum. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you guys. Bring you all some lunch,” you said, holding up a food bag as proof.

“You’re the greatest,” he beamed, pushing himself up onto his feet and crossing the room to you.

“So you rehearse on the floor?” you questioned with a teasing smile.

“Well, we were taking a small break,” he told you with a sheepish smile.

“We were actually ordering food, but this is way better,” Michael chimed in, taking the bag of food from you, and giving you a quick hug hello. “Ash is right. You’re the greatest.”

“Yeah, best surprise ever, especially for Mike,” Luke laughed and Calum nodded in agreement.

Happy chatter ensued as food was passed around, Ashton sitting as close to you as he could, his nerves making the tips of his fingers shake. “You okay?” you whispered, gripping one of his hands tightly in yours.

He nodded. “Yeah. Just nerves about getting back into things.” He gave you a quick kiss before getting up to go sit at his drum kit. And how he could manage to look both so at home and so vulnerable at the same time was beyond you.

You looked over at the other guys, wondering if they were seeing what you were seeing, and Calum nodded knowingly at you while Luke and Michael offered up sad smiles of confirmation. Sighing, you got up and made your way over to Ashton, wedging yourself between him and his drum kit. “Talk to me,” you urged softly.

“It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” you agreed. “But you didn’t stop being a musician. You still played. You still made music this whole time.”

“What if we mess up? What if I mess up?”

“What if you don’t?”

He scoffed lightly. “I’m being serious, Y/N.”

“I am, too. Look, Ash. These are your boys. Playing music with them is what you were born to do. And I’m pretty sure they’re having the same worry as you about messing up. And it’s okay if you guys mess up. That’s why you’re having rehearsals.”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah… Suppose you’re right.” He pushed his hands through his hair, taking another slow breath. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. Muscle memory.”

“Muscle memory,” you smiled reassuringly at him, draping your arms across his shoulders and leaning your forehead against his. “You got this, baby.”

“Will you stay? Having an audience… having you… It might help.”

“Of course, babe.”

~~~

The night of the show, you stood off to the side and out of the way as Ashton and the guys talked with the press about being back after almost two years of not playing a show together. You watched with a smile at the way Calum and Luke started humming their responses, and Michael took over the conversation when Ashton started fidgeting with his hands, giving Ashton that brief pause to collect his thoughts and settle his nerves.

“Muscle memory,” you reminded him softly when they all came back to prepare to go on stage.

“Muscle memory,” he nodded, shrugging out of his jacket. But his hands still shook as he draped it over a chair. So you grabbed them, holding them still in your own hands. “Fuck, I hate this,” he whispered in defeat.

“You’re allowed to be nervous, Ash.”

“I know. I just hate it. Of all the feelings I’ve missed, this isn’t one of them.”

“So focus on that. Focus on how great it feels knowing that there’s a crowd of people out there waiting for you guys. And fuck the rest.”

“It really helps that you’re here, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.”

“I-” he started, but a stagehand came rushing through, ushering them towards the stage.

You kissed him swiftly. “I love you, too. Now go be amazing.”

Again, with a smile plastered on your face, you watched them from the wings. It was effortless how easily they fell back into performing live with each other, as if covid had never stopped them. The perfect team of brothers.

Ashton’s eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree when he came backstage, a sweaty smile on his own face as he hugged you tight. “That was amazing!” you beamed.

“That!” He pointed a finger towards that stage. “That I’ve missed!”

“This!” You grabbed his face in your hands. “This is the Ash I’ve missed.”

“I was trying to tell you something before I went on. Something I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… I, um… Fuck, I dunno why this is so hard for me. But I wanted to say thanks. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to love lately. I know I’ve been more moody than usual under covid, and I know I’ve taken a lot of my frustration out on you.”

“Ash-”

He held up a finger, cutting you off. “Lemme finish. I- I know I hit some of the lowest lows I’ve hit in a long time because of covid. And I know this shit’s far from over, and there’s probably going to be more rough moments as we get back into the swing of things after so long. But thank you, okay? I dunno what I would’ve done without you.”

“Ash-”

“Hold on. There’s one last thing. When we go on tour, I want you to come with us. If you can, of course. I just… I’d rather not miss you if I don’t have to. I- I need you. In a way I never thought I’d need someone. And for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand. But I need you.”

“Can I talk now?”

“Yeah.”

“For as much as covid has sucked, it gave us a lot of time to be together. A lot of time we didn’t have before.”

“You told me that already.”

“Shush. It’s my turn. We’ve seen the best and the worst of each other. And for all the times we could have given up, we didn’t. Every unlovable moment, we just loved each other harder. And for a while I wondered why that was. And it’s like you said. For whatever reason, I need you the same way you need me. And getting to see you get back to being this happy again… I wanna keep seeing it. And I wanna keep seeing it in ways that don’t keep us apart. So… I was talking with my boss, and with the band, and your team. And this was supposed to be a surprise but…”

“You’re coming on tour?” he interrupted, voice full of hope.

“I’m coming on tour,” you grinned.

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @kaitieskidmore1 @binxiboo

#spotlight #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

118 notes · View notes

ynisamenace · 4 years

Note

Yo yo yo I've had this idea for a while but like bokuto with nipple piercings and like they just healed so you finally get to play with them and like he was already super sensitive before now the smallest touch makes him whine dikwowowjdbb

wow wow wow my favourite himbo with nipple piercings 🤩🤩🤩 he definitely got them done on purpose just so he could be even more sensitive to your touch akdkxhfuk

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: sub!Bokuto, dom!reader, nipple play, biting, himbo top bokuto, masochism, use of pet names (babyboy, sweetheart, good boy), overstimulation

Bokuto was excited. Very excited. He had been planning to get them done for a while now and coming home to see your surprised face as he raised up his shirt revealing his piercings was worth the pain.

“Well?” he enquiers still smiling at your stunned face.

“It’s um wow remind me never to doubt your impulsiveness again”, you answer, but Bokuto was too busy chattering about how much they didn’t hurt, he failed to realize how dilated your pupils had become. You would definitely have fun with him once they were healed.

It was practically torture having to see your boyfriend walk around your shared apartement, nipples out and peircings just begging to be played with. There were a lot of close calls, but you decided to wait for them to fully heal even though by the eight month, Bokuto was almost begging you to finally have your fun with them. You decided to make him wait a bit longer, partly because you didn’t want to hurt him and partly because you just loved when he begged.

Although your patience was running thin as well and you finally snapped when you came back from work and saw him lounging on the couch, torso bare and piercings glinting in the light. He turns to you with a cherish grin as he hears the front door close.

“Babyyyyy I’ve missed you,” he whined pouting as he got up to lunge at you, “how was your day? I’ll tell you about mine! Akaashi called and we were talking about thi-”

He suddenly gets cut off when you grab him by his waistband practically dragging him to your shared bedroom. Throwing him on the bed, he let out a little whimper as he finally sees the look on your face.

“You really know how to rile me up don’t you babyboy?” you question him, only receiving a blush and low whimper as a response from him. Climbing onto the bed, you settle yourself on his lap and finally squeeze one nipple between your fingers, both of you moaning at the same time from the relief. Your other hand goes to work on the other nipple as you place your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent before biting into his neck making him release another moan from all the stimulation.

“F-fuck y/n plea-ase harder”, he moans and you give into his request pinching both his nippled tight between your fingers and biting harder into his neck as you feel the growing tent in his sweatpants. You knew your boyfriend was a masochist and how you’ve missed his begging for you to rough him up. You pull away, releasing his nipples from your grip and he’s about to complain until he looks up at you signaling for him to strip.

Gently placing you on the bed, he climbs off taking off his sweats hazardlessly and climbs back between your thighs, his eyes darkened with lust and a light blush covering his face. You place a hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him into a searing kiss which he reciprocates with much enthusiasm, putting all his lust and love for you into it. Finally breaking away, you look him in the eye and say

“Go ahead sweetheart”

And that’s enough for Bokuto to thrust into you, moaning at the feeling of absolute fullness and Bokuto’s face one of pure bliss as he pushes shallow thrusts into you, trying his hardest not to cum before you.

“A-ah y/n-n fuck you feel so good so uh fucking tight”, he praises you as he hooks your leg up onto his shoulder before ramming into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your brain practically turns to mush but you still remember to keep rolling his nipples between your thumb and index finger.

“S-so good for me Bo, you’re such a good boy for me making me feel so good a-ah right there.”

Thrusting more vigorously from your praise, you don’t even get a chance to speak before your first orgasm comes rushing out of you, stars in your eyes as Bokuto just keeps going, his hips stuttering as he nears his own orgasm.

“Baby I’m so close fuck you don’t know what you do to me so fucking tight shit thank you thank you thank you I’m cumming I-i I’m cummi-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his lips from an ‘o’ shape, his orgasm washing over him as you keep twisting his nipples, tears forming in his eyes as he keeps shallowly thrusting into you, overstimulating himself from the pleasure. You push yourself up onto your elbows smashing your lips onto his, tasting the tear running down the side of his face into your mouths as he keeps thrusting, making the bed squeak after every thrust, both of you too blissed out to care.

His thrusts start turning erratic and hips shaky after a few minutes of you making hickeys on his neck and pulling his piercings and you can tell his second orgasm is approaching. You can feel yours as well, biting your lip as you guide his hand to your clit, him getting the memo and drawing tight little circles on your bundle of nerves. You keep spewing praises into his ear and soon feel him shake, a load moan rips through his body as he convulses, feeling thick ropes of cum shoot into you and that along with the clit stimulation has your second orgasm washing over you as your boyfriend basically collapses on top of you, still shalowly thrusting into you the overstimulation making him sob.

He keeps thrusting, you caged in his arms and orgasms again, his sobbing mixing with his moaning of your name as his tears drip on your face. You wipe them off your face and his as slurred and jumbled thank yous and sorrys fall from his lips. You shush him with a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips as you roll him on his side and giving him a bottle of water from the side of the bed. He accepts it graciously as he chugs it down, giving you a small smile before he shakily gets up to get a wet rag to clean both of you up.

Finally clean, he gets back into bed pulling the covers on top both of you as he spoons you, kissing the side of your neck spewing praises into your ear before you both succumb to sleep.

#haikyuuxblackreader!#haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu smut #bokuto #bokuto x reader #yn #black!reader #blackreader!#dom!reader #sub!character #sub!bokut #ceowrites #fem! reader #gn!reader

429 notes · View notes

donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Vanilla

Kinktober day 21 - Vanilla

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - @stargazingfangirl18 asked for soft ransom! Thanks @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @whateveriwant for their advice! Also for @finleyjayne 's rainbow writing challenge with the prompt 'white lie'. Hope y'all like it💖

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - When you find out Ransom's been lying, you can't help but assume the worst.

Warnings - 18+ only please!, smut (m/f), ooc Ransom.

Pairing - Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You sighed as a tear rolled down your cheek, looking at an old photo strip of you and Ransom. You had taken it in a photo booth at the fall fair, he was reluctant, calling them dumb and cheesy but he gave in when you gave him your puppy eyes.

He looked stoic in the first two, with you perched up on his lap, your arms around his neck but then he was laughing boisterously because you started tickling you. The last one was of him biting your neck as revenge.

Happy times. But they seem to be taunting you now.

Your family, even your friends, weren’t huge fans of Ransom. Your mother was actually scared he’d hit you or hurt you. But they didn’t know him like you did.

He was never cruel to you. Not even when he didn’t know you and had nothing to gain from being nice to you. Surprisingly, he was quite the gentlemen, holding the door for you, paying for your meals, even waiting for over a month before making love - you knew then you could never let go of him, no one would ever give it to you like him.

He did tend to be a bit judgmental and cynical, entitled and maybe a bit spoilt. But you accepted that as a part of him, encouraging him to work on himself. Sure, he’ll never be everyone's cup of tea, but he’d always be yours.

Or so you thought.

Dealing with Ransom required some finesse and patience that you were willing to put up because it was worth it. But you’d never put up with lies, or worse... that’s not who you were.

Ransom had told you he was going to meet up with his published to talk about his new project. Your gut told you that something was wrong. When he was late you took it upon yourself to call the publishing house only to find out he didn’t have a meeting today at all.

He didn’t have one that Sunday either, where he was for over four hours you didn’t know.

You let out a humorless chuckle at your own naiveté - who the fuck has a meeting on the weekend anyway?

You only saw what your heart wanted to show you. Maybe, he never loved you. Maybe everything you both shared for the past two years was a lie - an act.

You yelped a bit when you heard the door being slammed shut, putting the photo down you quickly composed yourself.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, kissing the top of your head before scavenging for a beer in your fridge.

“Hey,” your voice hoarse and croaky, you cleared your throat, “how was your meeting?” you spat. Unable to keep the contempt from your voice.

“So and so. They don’t know shit,” he twisted the cap off before he taking a long drag of it.

You gulped when you looked at his pale throat bobbing and swallowing the liquid down. He took his coat off, throwing it over the counter.

You watched his muscles flex under his tight sweater, his curious eyes watching you, your traitorous body still found him attractive. Which he was, objectively so, some might even argue that he was out of your league and not the other way around.

“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked, catching you staring at him. He stood before you, holding onto your hips.

You blinked, pushing him away and putting some distance between you, “I want to know more about the meeting.” you insisted.

“What the hell are you going on about?” He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair - messing it up. You knew it was a nervous tick of his.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! You weren’t at any meeting were you? You were probably with some bitch,” you yelled, jabbing him in his chest with your finger, “No,” you laughed, “Wasn’t her fault. She’s not the one cheating. I should’ve known better.” you shook your head, “Everybody warned me.”

He had the audacity to roll his eyes, “God, you women - ”

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom. Now is not the time for your boring jokes. Where were you?”

“Why would you jump to the worse conclusion?!” he yelled back, his face turning red and a couple of veins popping on his forehead. “Do I not get benefit the doubt? Don’t you trust me?”

He walked towards you, making you take a few steps back until you hit the counter, tall and imposing above you. His jaw clenched shut as he stared you down.

You gulped, “I did trust you. But what explanation could you possibly have? You lied, didn’t you? Where were you?”

You watched him as he dug through his discarded coat, taking out a box and handing it to you. You knew what it was as soon as you saw it, the familiar burgundy color with the words ‘cartier’ written on top in golden cursive.

“I’m sorry,” you choked, your heart clenched in guilt. You accused him of the worst when he was just out getting you jewellery. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“Bit to late to be sorry when you already said your part.” he gritted.

“Sorry,” you gave him a nervous smile, “I really don’t deserve this, I don’t know what to say...”

“I was with Meg, since she’s the only girl I know, who’d be of any use. She just gave a lecture about how buying diamonds is so unethical or something, I don’t know I tuned out,” he shuddered at just the thought of it, “So, it’s not final. We can exchange it if you don’t like it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You frowned, “Why would I need to exchange it? I’m sure it’s very pretty,” you opened the box and gasped, your jaw dropping, “Ransom... this is...” the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen. “Wait a minute, does that mean..”

“Yep,” he snatched it away from you, taking the ring out of it and then sliding it on your ring finger, “I was going to go the whole nine yards. Get down on a knee, act like a fucking Disney Prince but you don’t get that now,” he smirked, the diamond looking so pretty on your hand. “You’re stuck with me, forever.”

“Well, I’m sad that I missed out on a proper proposal but I suppose I deserve it. It really is so pretty,” you beamed at the ring.

“Don’t you dare take it off.” He held onto your hand possessively. Glad to have some sort of claim on you now that would let any unworthy asshole know that you’re taken.

You giggled, placing a quick smooch on his lips, “I won’t. I’ll protect it with my life,” holding the hand close to your heart. “I’m still so sorry. I should’ve known better.”

“That’s right, you should’ve.” he grumbled

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He’d have no problem assuming the worst if the roles were reversed. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Jutting your lower lip out and looking at him with your big doe eyes.

Pulling you by your waist and holding you tightly against him, “I can think of a couple of things, pumpkin.”

He captured your lips in a salacious kiss that was all teeth and tongue, running his thumb over the diamond.

***

“Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed, pumpkin,” he praised, choking on a moan, pushing your hot, eager mouth further down on his length.

You let out a muffled whimper, relaxing your throat so you could take all of him. Which was quite a task but you powered through, swallowing him down until your nose touched the brown patch of hair above his length.

He let out a loud, primal moan, holding onto your head and trying his best not to bust his load too soon. He pulled you off of him, getting off of the mattress, putting his hands below your arms and hauling you up and pushing you down on it. It was always fun to manhandle you like that, what with you being so small and plaint. Always ready to serve him and let him have his way with you.

You blinked up at him with unsure eyes, almost wanting to cover yourself from his predatory gaze. “St - stop looking at me like that.”

He chuckled, “You’re mine now. I’ll look at you however I like.”

He knelt on the floor, pulling you till you were on the edge of the bed, nudging your intimate lips apart with his nose. He took a long breath in, your unique scent never failed to make him hot.

Placing a flurry of kisses up and down your inner thighs, giving your a nick and a bite here and there till you were going crazy with need. Need to have his mouth on you.

“Please, Ransom,” you sniffled exaggeratedly, “Just want your mouth on me.”

“You’ve got no patience, doll.” Which was rich, coming from him.

He shook his head, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Before finally, wrapping his mouth around your bundle of nerves, sucking at it leisurely.

You pulled at his hair, pushing him closer to your heat because you needed more.

He took the hint, plunging two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out till he felt you clamping down on them. He pulled right away when he felt you getting too close to your climax.

No, he needed to look at your face as you fell apart with him.

Ignoring your whines and curses he hovered above you, pushing his tip against your entrance, coating it with your juices.

You were out of it, barely there with him, your hands loosely holding onto his broad shoulders, “I love you,” you murmured and then yelped, your eyes scrunched shut as he thursted his entire length inside you. Your nails digging into his biceps and drawing blood.

There was that delicious familiar ache at first, but you willed yourself to ride through it. It’ll feel good in no time. Except.... he didn’t move.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him to see him staring at you. You called out his name, caressing his cheek.

“Say it again,” he panted.

“Say what?” you yelped again as he lifted your hips up, his tip brushing against your spongy spot, “Oh.. uh... I love you.” you repeated.

He stayed still for a moment or longer. Still not used to hearing those words, especially said so sincerely by you. They often caught him off guard and overwhelmed him.

His hips bucked into yours as he started thrusting into you properly, his fingers digging into your hips.

You pulled him down and pressed your lips to his, swirling your tongue against his, spilling your moans in his mouths, only pulling away when you could barely breath. He did have a way of always leaving you breathless.

Propping himself on his elbows, he watched you writhe under him, your face scrunching up in untethered pleasure as you kept asking him for more. It's where you belonged, wrapped up around him. And your cavern was his rightful place, especially now that you'll be married.

“You’ve always been a, tight little thing. Squeezing the shit outta me,” he grunted as you pulsed and fluttered around him your body seized up and fell back.

He kept driving his hips into you, riding out your orgasm till ropes of his seed coated your walls, he didn’t let up till he was sure he gave you every last drop of him.

He collapsed on top of you, nipping at the shell of your ear, “Again,” he pleaded, his voice wavering with his cock softening inside you.

“I love you, baby, more than you’ll ever know,” you said, cradling his head close to you.

He hummed, pulling himself out of you, laying beside you, he admired your ring as you struggled to stay away, your eyes already dozing off.

He was proud to have bought it with his own hard earned money with the book you inspired him to write, it was sort of poetic in a way. But you didn’t need to know that or you’d accuse him of going soft for you - which to be fair he was. As his mother always says every marriage has its secrets.

Tags will be in the reblog!

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#rainbowwritingchallenge #ransom Drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x reader #chris evans x reader #berry writes

835 notes · View notes

kekoma · 4 years

Text

— sakusa as your boyfriend.

omi simps... this one for you and your love for mr. clean with hair. hope you enjoy.

hmm you smell that? cleaning products~

and wait? is that music playing? CLEANING MUSIC at that.

you really want to date mr. clean and look at his piss color jacket some days? very concerned for you babes.

get help. mwah 💋

jokes~ no omi slander here but lets get into it.

already have to make it known... dating omi requires a LOT of patience. you have to be understanding of his germ phobia or else the relationship really doesn’t work.

in the beginning, dating him was considered difficult.

you aren’t able to touch him or truly act like a couple in love since he had rules you MUST follow.

but we aren’t here to talk about what it’s like to have date him in the beginning— we’re focusing on dating now aka you two have been dating for some time now.

to start off, you’re already attending his games and calming down his nerves when around such a big crowd.

something about your sweet words followed along with gentle touches takes his focus off of everything.

you’re basically his paradise away from everything that troubles him and his lucky charm so truly be prepared to attend every single game he has or else he’s feeling strange.

definitely the type of boyfriend who remembers dates, things you’ve talked about and etc.

“ummm omi... why is there a rilakkuma plush in a sleeping bag on my bed?”

“you mentioned wanting it but couldn’t get it because it was sold out. i was able to grab my hands on one before they sold out again. also don’t worry about cleaning it, already did it for you.”

“i could tell— thank you for buying it for me babe! i didn’t think you’ll remember.”

“do you think that low of me or something? i’m not going to forget things like that when it makes you happy.”

forgot to mention... his bluntness never leaves the relationship but omi will occasionally cut down on it if he deems certain words may come off too harsh or if you’re the type of person who can’t handle blunt words often.

omi + gifts = nothing too major.

if he isn’t buying things you’ve shown him/talk about then he tends to buy small gifts for you. doesn’t seem like the type to buy flashy and super super expensive gifts— just something that shows he put a lot of thought into what he picked out because he thought it fits you perfectly.

automatically he’s teaching you how to play volleyball.

it’s his way of spending time and bonding in the relationship. he wants you to see the joy in it as well but if you don’t then it’s completely fine. he’s not gonna force you.

although if you do play along with him then he sometimes looks at you serious and attempts to make a joke.

“perhaps we shouldn’t play too often...”

“heh why? scared i’m gonna beat you and take your place omi?”

“matter of fact, yes. you’re already on the road to becoming better than me. i see that as a threat and i might have to eliminate you...”

you’ll think he’s dead serious until he flashes that beautiful smiles of his and admits he’s just joking with you.

yeah— omi smiling is quite rare but you get to see it often because he loves you a lot and certain actions/expressions you make causes that smile to come out randomly.

sakusa + pda = ???

he isn’t as hesitated to touch you like he did before since being with you for so long, he was able to deem you as clean (in his mind) and doesn’t worry like before.

so you already know what time it is.

in public; omi is comfortable enough to hold your hands. no doubt about it especially when you two are walking together somewhere— he’s already searching to hold them.

kissing is alright too yet he won’t really do it in front of a large crowd— you only get that when less people are around or none at all.

something he likes doing with you is wrapping his arms around you in the corner of a room. especially if you two end up in a crowd place then he’s already finding a corner to bring you to and hold you.

but public pda is more on the minimum side since he’s still being observant of his surroundings and still thinking of those germs.

however in private— you can get away with more stuff.

cuddling? yes. kissing anywhere on his face or having him kiss you anywhere back? heh yeahhh. wanna touch/play with his hair while he’s holding you? omi is letting you get away with it.

and when it comes to cuddling, omi definitely loves putting his head in the crook of your neck while sometimes mumbling how much he loves you and thanking you for putting up with him.

also— he LOVES when you play with his hair.

not much to speak on as long as nothing messy happens.

now let’s talk about nicknames.

top nicknames for you are <3 bud, angel, love and idiot/dummy.

although your name on his phone is none of those nicknames... it’s just ‘y/n💛’ :( rip.

hmm dates? oh they’re there but most of them are indoor dates.

no need to explain why but omi does try his best to make them fun at least.

sometimes he pushes himself out of his comfort zone to take you out on outdoors dates such as an cafe, bookstore and picnics at the park or beach, but those places have to be small/not have a large crowd.

but to conclude this before it gets longer— dating sakusa isn’t that bad to the point the relationship stays ‘stuck’ at that difficult stage. he’s willing to work out something to make it work due to the fact he really loves you.

overall; 10/10 mr.clean is worth it but be prepared to clean with him some days.

599 notes · View notes

dustofbrokenheart · 4 years

Text

The Lost Boys: What About the Neighbors?

Dwayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,727

Warning: contains physical intimacy and mature language

Summary: Reader struggles to open the front door as tension runs high with Dwayne.

You fumbled with the apartment key in your shaking hands, Dwayne on your back nuzzling into your neck—kissing, licking, and sucking every inch of exposed skin he found. Your head lulled to the side, offering up even more access to your neck.

The night had started at the boardwalk causing normal mischief with the other vampires. Then Dwayne had given you the look and no even fifteen minutes later, you’d ditched them and arrived back to your doorstep.

His hands slowly rubbed over your curves before slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. He quickly unsnapped the front clasp on your bra, showing his experience and familiarity with you. He pushed the fabric aside, briefly cupping your breasts before his fingers stroked your nipples. Stiff peaks rose at the first touch, your body conditioned to respond to him.

His breath was heavy in your ear as a hint of fang grazed your earlobe. The sting had your back arching and you desperately tried to choke back a moan.

“Dwayne,” you whispered breathily. “Wait. Stop. What about the neighbors—they’ll see!”

In response, he continued to roll your nipples between his wide fingers. He smiled against your neck. His voice was quiet, even deeper than usual. “You’d better hurry up and unlock the door then, princess.”

The lust-filled words renewed your efforts and you scrambled to fit the key into the lock. Dwayne stepped closer, removing any remaining space between the two of you, and his thick, jean-covered erection ground against your backside, making you keen.

Finally, the lock opened with a metallic click and as soon as you twisted the doorknob open, Dwayne scooped you up in his arms and entered. He backed you up against a wall, forcing you to wrap your legs tightly around him.

He stripped you of your shirt, casting it aside blindly. Your already loosened bra fell off your shoulders, joining the shirt.

Not wearing a shirt that needed to be discarded, your hands splayed wide on his bare chest and roved upwards to his shoulders, slipping under his leather jacket. Normally, the jacket was great. You loved his jacket. But it needed to come off, right then and there. The heavy leather hit the floor audibly, leaving you both bare from the waist up.

Gasps and growls echoed through the apartment as his fangs scored your neck, his fingers returning to massage your breasts. Despite his eagerness, he was careful not to draw blood. Yet. Shivering at the thought of the prominent marks he was no doubt leaving behind on your throat, you desperately tried to pull air into your lungs. Lightheaded as you were, it was all you could do to hold onto him, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

Sensing that you were already overwhelmed, Dwayne’s large hands continued downwards, slipping underneath to grip your ass as he turned away from the wall and carried you to your bedroom.

You cry, rolling your hips against his, craving even the slightest amount of friction to ease the ache overloading your senses. Dwayne smiled, but there was an edge to it, making you even more excited.

He guided you down to the bed, dragging your skirt and underwear off in one motion. Before he got any further your hand slowly fondled the bulge in his pants. He hummed in pleasure and the sinful sound had your core pulsating as you pull the zipper on his jeans down. He leaned back you as you pulled off the jeans completely—he never bothered with underwear so that wasn’t a concern.

Your hand slid up and down his length, keeping him spellbound, his hooded eyes fixed on you as you pushed him to lie down on the bed. He went with no resistance and you kneeled between his sprawled legs, pushing your hair back away from your face.

Your tongue swirled around the head, your hand pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths, you ran your tongue down the underside of his cock all while making sure to maintain eye contact. The intimacy that eye contact afforded during sex was a huge turn-on for him.

Dwayne hissed, trying his best to stay still and avoid thrusting up into your mouth. He knew he was on the larger side and didn’t want to choke you. One hand harshly gripped the sheets at his side, the other massaging the back of your head with strands of your hair wrapped around his fingers.

Your tongue speared into his slit right before you sucked him in again. Dwayne’s hands gripped you suddenly, and in the blink of an eye, you were underneath him.

He smirked, his dark hair falling down to create a curtain around your faces as he watched you writhe. It took his iron-clad hold on your wrists to keep you in place “Your turn, princess.”

He hovered over you, his erection teasing your sex as he kissed you deeply. You shifted, trying to wrap your leg around his waist to pull him into your aching core. The throbbing emanating from your clit was becoming unbearable, the bundle of nerves screaming for relief.

You let out a relieved sigh as Dwayne settled onto his stomach between your trembling legs. His gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs had you squirming. “Please,” you panted. Dwayne answered you with a long lick up your slit, tasting your arousal.

His hands held you in place and another few licks had you grinding your hips in abandon. Tongue swirling over your clit, you pressed further into his face, moaning loudly as he wrapped his lips around you and sucked. He felt when the quaking in your thighs begin to increase which served to drive his own arousal as well. Your responsiveness to his touch always drove him wild.

“Dwayne,” you moaned, winding your fingers through his dark tresses. He groaned into your core, licking and sucking over and over, determined to take you over the edge. “I’m… I’m-” The thread that held you together snapped, your orgasm rushing through you.

With a parting kiss in between your legs, Dwayne crawled up to your neck. Your eyes were still closed and your breathing heavy from his actions. Face full of pride, he nuzzled your neck, waiting for you to open them. The stubble on his chin poking at your skin eventually brought your attention back to him and he raised himself onto his elbows to hover over you.

He stroked your cheek in a silent question. You turned your head to kiss his inner wrist, his tendons flexing beneath your lips. “Ready,” you assured breathily. You reached between your bodies and rubbed the blunt head of his cock pressed against your heat.

He rested his head against your shoulder, laving your skin as he groaned. You wrapped a thigh around his hip, drawing him closer until his tip entered you. His arms shook as he tried not to drive into you as his instincts pleaded for him to do, instead waiting for your permission. Dwayne had mastered the art of patience long ago and was content to move at your pace.

Your leg tightened again, pulling him in another couple inches and you both moaned. It was Dwayne’s turn for his eyes to shut as he slid the rest of the way into you. No matter how many times he had been inside of you, he always savored the first thrust. Once he was fully seated inside of you, one roll of his hips against your clit was enough to have you seeing stars. Your nails dragged down the expanse of his back hard enough to leave scratches.

“Hmmn. You’re always so good,” he praised. His steady voice sent a shudder through you, making your walls clamp down. He held you tightly, thrusting with hard, deep strokes of his hips that left you weak and unable to think of anything other than chasing mutual pleasure.

Yanking on his hair, you pulled his head down and kissed him fiercely, delicious heat starting to climb up your spine once again.

Dwayne felt every flutter of your walls pulsating against his length and he knew you were close. Your name was a ragged groan torn from his chest. Without changing the pace of his thrusts, he started to put more power into every forward movement. And when he swiveled his hips just so, he hit the right spot with scary accuracy.

Digging your heels into the small of his back, you bucked wildly as your climax hit. The second one was stronger, more consuming than the last. Once your limbs finally unlocked, you slumped against the bed.

Dwayne grabbed your leg and lifted, holding it up by your ankle as he plunged into your fluttering core. Once, twice, a third time. His moan was muffled by your neck, the vibration intimate on the soft skin. Still shivering from his own aftershocks, he rolled onto his back, pulling your body against his to hold you close.

You leisurely ran your fingers through his dark hair. He recovered his breath after a second or two—perks of being a vampire. His eyes were half-closed, a sleepy, warm brown. You couldn’t help but kiss him, soft and tender as he whispered sweet nothings. Dwayne’s arms were tight around your cooling body, creating a peaceful bubble that nothing outside it could breech.

Until you heard a voice call out through your apartment, one of your older neighbors a couple of doors down from you. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but are you alright, Y/N? Your door is wide open and I thought I heard a scuffle in there.”

You froze instantly. Damn! Neither one of you had shut the front door behind you earlier. At least it sounded like she was on the other side of the doorway and hadn’t wandered into the actual unit. Embarrassed, you buried your head into Dwayne’s bicep.

Dwayne answered for you, quickly assuring her that everything was alright. The neighbor apologized and left. You still hadn’t lifted your head and he chuckled in your ear, “Nothing to be embarrassed about. And even if it was embarrassing, it was worth it.”

You blindly slapped at him. “Just… go shut the door. Please.”

“Sure thing.” He squeezed you tightly before he got up. “Love you, princess.”

_______________

Another meager attempt at writing smut 😂. Happy Friday peeps! Thanks for reading!

#the lost boys #the lost boys dwayne #dwayne the lost boys #imagines #the lost boys x reader #rated m for mature

182 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

Text

Clean

1) me writing about ace!jc again? more likely than you think

2) I asked my friend to give me ten word prompts per month, so I stay in the habit of writing fic regularly and "Clean" was the first prompt yes it's just mostly me trying to find a way out of coming up with titles

Jiang Cheng is feeling good. Great even, with Nie Mingjue as a solid weight on top of him, slowly leaving a trail of kisses down Jiang Cheng’s neck and it is so damn good.

Until Nie Mingjue’s hand moves from Jiang Cheng’s side lower and lower, and then everything is suddenly not good anymore as Jiang Cheng is being flooded with a sense of unease.

“Stop,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, reaching out to catch Nie Mingjue’s wrist in his hand and to his credit Nie Mingjue does immediately stop. “I’m not—I can’t—” Jiang Cheng stumbles over the sentence, but Nie Mingjue only hums low in his throat.

“Alright,” he easily says, as if it’s not strange at all that Jiang Cheng still isn’t ready for more and he puts his hand back on Jiang Cheng’s side.

Jiang Cheng likes how big it is there, how it easily spans around his ribcage, but he realizes he’s just trying to distract himself.

“Do you want to stop or do you want to go back to kissing?” Nie Mingjue asks him, clearly noticing that Jiang Cheng is still tense and Jiang Cheng forces himself to relax.

“The kissing was nice,” he whispers and gets a wicked smile in return, right before Nie Mingjue dives in again.

“Then let’s just keep doing that,” Nie Mingjue says between kisses and Jiang Cheng would really love to fall back into that, to simply stop thinking and go back to enjoying this, but he can’t.

His mind is whirring and he’s so angry with himself that he can barely bring himself to reciprocate and of course Nie Mingjue notices.

“Wanyin,” he eventually whispers against Jiang Cheng’s lips and Jiang Cheng groans before he slams his head into the pillow once.

“I’m so sorry,” he gets out, incredibly mad at himself for ruining the mood yet again but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he easily tells him. “If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.”

He says it as if there’s nothing wrong with it, as if there’s nothing wrong with the fact that Jiang Cheng still can’t allow more than kissing even after months of dating and he doesn’t understand where Nie Mingjue takes all this patience from.

“Stop thinking about it,” Nie Mingjue advises him and presses a kiss to the hinge of Jiang Cheng’s jaw. “There’s nothing to think about. If it doesn’t feel right, then it’s not the time.”

“How can you just say that?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, as he puts his hands on his face. “Why are you so okay with that?”

“Because I love you and I want you to be comfortable?” Nie Mingjue gives back, though it’s not really a question, Jiang Cheng knows that.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry that I’m not ready yet.”

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue sighs and drops kisses all over Jiang Cheng’s face. “What did I tell you before?”

“That there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Jiang Cheng dutifully replies, but he starts to doubt that with every week that passes where he can’t allow Nie Mingjue to go further than the kissing.

“Then stop saying it,” Nie Mingjue says with a small smile and gathers Jiang Cheng up in his arms. “You wanna cuddle or you wanna do something else?” he asks, clearly completely content to let Jiang Cheng set the pace of whatever they will do next and Jiang Cheng turns in his arms until he can hide his face in Nie Mingjue’s chest.

“Cuddle,” he mumbles and he feels Nie Mingjue’s chuckle more than he hears it.

“Who would have guessed,” Nie Mingjue teasingly says and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head, before he relaxes.

He does seem to be happy enough to simply lay there with Jiang Cheng but it takes Jiang Cheng a long time to push his guilty conscience aside so that he can relax as well. Nie Mingjue tells him again and again that it is fine that he’s not ready for sex yet, but the more he says it the more it feels unfair to Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng just isn’t sure what the right solution to this is.

~*~*~

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng whispers, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Fuck,” he says with more vehemence when the words don’t change and he puts his head into his hands.

He only came to google to see if there was something wrong with him for not being able to sleep with Nie Mingjue. He did not expect to have to readjust his sexuality.

But Jiang Cheng has read several different entries on asexuality now and the more he read the more he felt that it fit.

And it is the worst thing, in his eyes.

How is he ever going to explain that to Nie Mingjue? How will he ever tell him that he will never, ever sleep with him?

Jiang Cheng can already imagine how it will turn out—with Nie Mingjue regretfully, but determinedly breaking up with him, because a man has needs, right, and if Jiang Cheng can’t meet them, then what would keep Nie Mingjue ever by his side?

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng says again, just because he can and because he feels like the situation really requires it and then he reaches for his phone.

Only to hesitate over his contacts.

Who is he going to call? Wei Wuxian will no doubt make fun of him, however good natured it would be and Jiang Cheng is not ready for that. And Nie Huaisang is the last person he can tell about this because for all that they are best friends Nie Mingjue is his da-ge.

If Nie Huaisang thinks this will hurt Nie Mingjue in any way, he will tell him, before Jiang Cheng can even dial Nie Mingjue’s number to tell him himself.

No, those two are definitely out.

That leaves Jiang Cheng with only one option, and even though he really doesn’t want to discuss any sexual topics with his sister, he presses the call button.

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli greets him warmly and it brings tears to Jiang Cheng’s eyes that he can’t even explain himself.

“A-jie,” he gets out, and he knows that his tone immediately worries her.

“What happened?” she softly asks and Jiang Cheng takes a few deep breaths before he straightens up in his chair.

“Nie Mingjue is going to break up with me,” he says, because that much he is sure about by now, but it hurts to say the words out loud.

“Why would he do that?” Jiang Yanli asks and Jiang Cheng loves her for not immediately saying that Nie Mingjue would never do that.

“Because I’m not going to sleep with him,” Jiang Cheng whispers and he crumbles again, hunching in on himself because it hurts so damn much to even think about losing Nie Mingjue over this.

“If you’re not ready and he’s going to demand you sleep with him anyway, then it’s better if you break up,” Jiang Yanli carefully says and Jiang Cheng chokes out a laugh.

“I’m never going to be ready,” he admits and then he tells her all about his descend into google hell and what he found out about asexuality.

There’s a beat of silence from here when he is done but then she says: “It doesn’t really change anything, A-Cheng. If you don’t want to sleep with him and he’s going to demand it anyway, then it’s still better if you break up. But you have to come clean to him about this.”

Jiang Cheng blinks at that, because how can he just deny Nie Mingjue of that if it’s such an integral part of any relationship, but before he can say so Jiang Yanli goes on.

“If he loves you, he will respect your sexuality.”

“But wouldn’t that mean I should respect his sexuality as well?” Jiang Cheng asks, because it doesn’t make sense if it’s one-sided.

“You both have to respect the other. It’s just—there are ways for him to relieve himself, right? It’s different for you; you shouldn’t have to do something that makes you uncomfortable like this only to make him happy.”

“I don’t—isn’t a relationship about compromise?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he’s sure that if he tells Nie Mingjue outright that it’s never going to happen, he’ll walk away from him.

“Usually, yes. But sometimes you have to set some hard limits, especially if it makes you feel like this.”

“Did you set hard limits with that peacock of yours?” Jiang Cheng asks and it startles a laugh out of Jiang Yanli.

“Yes, I did, actually. And it took him a while to accept them, but it’s working for us. It’s worth a try, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli says and Jiang Cheng is tempted to ask what those limits are, but he bites his tongue.

He doesn’t need to know everything about his sister’s relationship with Jin Zixuan.

“What if he breaks up with me over this?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice small, because he doesn’t even want to imagine it.

“Then he wasn’t right for you. A-Cheng, think about it. Do you want to force yourself to sleep with him just to keep him by your side? How would it make you feel to know that only the promise of sex would keep him with you?”

“Like shit,” Jiang Cheng whispers and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right.”

“Your a-jie is always right,” Jiang Yanli teasingly says. “Go talk to him. And then tell me how it went, okay?”

“Alright. Thank you,” Jiang Cheng sincerely says and by now he’s glad that he called his sister.

She definitely had better advice than Wei Wuxian, that’s for sure. It still doesn’t do anything to resolve the ball of nerves in his stomach, but Jiang Cheng guesses that’s something he has to deal with himself.

And he knows that will only go away once he laid it all out for Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is nervous, but he’s also ready. He has a whole speech prepared and some links ready on his phone, should Nie Mingjue have some questions, and most of all he decided to really tell Nie Mingjue that it’s never going to happen.

Better to just manage those expectations from the start.

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says, startling Jiang Cheng out of his frantic pacing and Jiang Cheng has to admit to himself that he might not be as ready as he thought he was. “What’s going on?” Nie Mingjue asks him and Jiang Cheng is ashamed to find that he’s shaking.

He loves Nie Mingjue. He’s not sure he can watch him walk away.

“Won’t you talk to me?” Nie Mingjue prompts him gently when Jiang Cheng continues to stay silent and it overthrows the carefully laid plan in Jiang Cheng’s mind.

“I’m asexual and I’m not going to sleep with you,” he blurts out and then simply stares at Nie Mingjue, panic crawling up his throat.

“I—okay,” Nie Mingjue says with a small frown and it’s enough to prompt Jiang Cheng into a lengthy explanation, his phone at the ready.

When he’s done, Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem as confused or as put out about this as Jiang Cheng had expected and Nie Mingjue must have read that right off his face.

“I actually knew about half of what you just explained to me,” Nie Mingjue says with a small shrug and when Jiang Cheng frowns at him, he huffs out a slight laugh. “Do you really think Huaisang’s orientation can be described in a simple term like bi? Have you known Huaisang to be that straight forward?” Nie Mingjue asks him and Jiang Cheng remembers with a start that of course Nie Huaisang would have come out to his brother.

It was stupid of Jiang Cheng to think that he’d be the first to explain the finer details of romantic and sexual orientation to Nie Mingjue.

“Okay, but—what does that mean for us?” Jiang Cheng asks, the uncertainty eating away at him, but he tries to reassure himself that it’s a good sign that Nie Mingjue didn’t immediately get up and leave.

Though that little bit of hope might crush him later, because there’s still the chance that Nie Mingjue will walk out on him.

“That we’re not going to have sex,” Nie Mingjue carefully says, clearly unsure of his answer and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“But we’re in a relationship.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s expected?” Jiang Cheng asks, and he knows he’s digging his own grave here, but he can’t help himself.

“You have a relationship with your brother. And with mine, for that matter. Do you have sex with them?” Nie Mingjue asks him with a teasing smile.

“Ew, gross,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and he relaxes slightly when Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

“See? It’s not required.”

“But it’s different for you, isn’t it? We’re in a romantic relationship.”

“Exactly, my heart,” Nie Mingjue says and holds his hand out for Jiang Cheng. “A romantic relationship. From what I understood, that is still very much the case, is it not?”

“Yes, of course,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and presses a small kiss to the corner of Nie Mingjue’s mouth. “I love you.”

“So the romance part of that romantic relationship is covered. I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

“About—that you—don’t you have needs?” Jiang Cheng finally blurts out and Nie Mingjue levels him with a look.

“I can take care of my physical needs on my own,” he tells him. “And for my romantic needs I have you, don’t I?”

Jiang Cheng can do nothing but stare at Nie Mingjue, because he didn’t think it would be that easy. That Nie Mingjue would be that understanding.

“You expected me to break up with you over this,” Nie Mingjue finally says with a small nod and Jiang Cheng winces.

“I was afraid of that possibility?” he unsurely gives back and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“Wanyin, no offense, but if our relationship was only built on the expectation of sex I would have left a long time ago,” Nie Mingjue bluntly says and Jiang Cheng jerks, even though he knows it’s true.

He left Nie Mingjue hanging for months before he found out about his orientation after all.

“But since I love you, that expectation is really not everything to me.”

“I love you, too,” Jiang Cheng gives back and leans in to kiss Nie Mingjue.

“So I guess kissing is not off the table,” Nie Mingjue says and teasingly nibbles on Jiang Cheng’s lower lip.

“No, it’s not,” Jiang Cheng replies with a smile and Nie Mingjue nods.

“But hands above the waist, right?”

“I—yes,” Jiang Cheng says, still a little hesitant to set his boundaries like this, but Nie Mingjue only smiles reassuringly at him.

“Cuddling?”

“Still very much on the table,” Jiang Cheng decisively says because it’s one of his favourite things to do with Nie Mingjue.

“Thought so,” Nie Mingjue laughs and then tugs Jiang Cheng right on top of him, before he tips them over on the couch. “Gonna get to that right away then.”

“What a hardship,” Jiang Cheng deadpans and snuggles deeper into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “Thank you for not leaving me,” he whispers once he feels comfortable and Nie Mingjue sighs but he presses a lingering kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

“Thank you for being brave and telling me,” Nie Mingjue gives back instead of reassuring Jiang Cheng that he would never and if Jiang Cheng is honest, this is much better.

He never does well with promises, after all, and so this means more to him.

Jiang Cheng tries to get even closer to Nie Mingjue, who tightens his arms around him in response, and really, this is the best feeling in the world.

Who even needs sex when they have Nie Mingjue to hold them like this.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #established relationship #coming out #asexual character #ace!jc #fluff #cuddling and snuggling #jyl is the best big sister

231 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

cause & effect || chapter 1

➵ your work friend, kuroo, has a tiny favour to ask.

warnings: f!reader

wc: 1.4k

m.list | ↠ ch. 2

You plonk a black coffee on Kuroo’s desk, shooting him a wink.

He looks awful. Skin a tad more pallid than normal, dark bags under his eyes, hair even messier than usual. You’re almost ready to believe he’d gone on a bender last night, but you know he’s much too dedicated to his work to do something like that on a Tuesday.

He smiles at you, his chin balanced in one of his hands. You glance at the time in the corner of his computer screen. 8:30 AM. You’re not late.

“Thanks,” he nods before taking a sip of his coffee. He scrunches up his nose for a moment, but he manages to swallow it all down. When he’d told you he didn’t actually like black coffee, you’d asked him why he bothered drinking it. He’d told you that the caffeine kick was like nothing else, and he needed it to get through the day.

That was the moment you’d realised that Kuroo Tetsurou was, in fact, a loser.

“You look exhausted,” you observe, looking him up and down. Kuroo usually looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, but you’d just assumed that was a purposeful choice.

“Ouch,” he laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, I’m not being rude,” you dither at him. “I’m concerned.”

“No need to be,” he yawns, scrunching up his nose. “I was just on Kenma’s stream last night.”

You snort. “What, that friend of yours that plays video games for a living?”

Kuroo grins. “That’s the one.”

“How late did you stay up?”

“Oh… like 2 AM,” he shrugs. “That was nothing back in uni, but these days…”

You laugh, shaking your head. What you wouldn’t give for a taste of that youthful neglect for one’s wellbeing. You’re not quite sure when your transition to ‘responsible adult who gets paid a living wage (barely) and who (usually) turns in before 11 PM’ happened, but there’s no going back now.

“Are you hoping to leave this life behind?” You tease, tilting your head at him. “Hoping to become Youtube famous?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he grins. “I’ll earn millions at the height of my career, only to have a humiliating fall from grace when people find out I’m not a very nice person.”

“That’s tragic,” you giggle, turning back to your computer. “Make sure you go out in a blaze of glory for me, okay?”

“Oh, I intend to,” he nods, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “And don’t you worry, I’ll make myself a very lucrative merch line designed to exploit my followers for all their worth.”

His work phone starts ringing with a vengeance.

Kuroo shoots you a dithering look. You just mouth ‘good luck’ as he picks up the offending object.

“Japan Volleyball Association, sports promotion division,” Kuroo stifles a yawn as he holds the phone to his ear. “How may I help you today?”

You bite your lip as you watch him. He’s nodding and humming – typical fare for a phone call.

“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that sir?” He says with a frown.

He catches your eye, and you take the opportunity to stick your tongue out at him. A grin spreads across his face slowly as he shakes his head.

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what this specific interlocutor was after.

Kuroo gives you that look; the one that said the person on the other end of this phone line was bonkers.

“Forgive me for being so bold, sir, but are you asking me if we’d accept a large sum of money to remove a competitor’s logo from our advertisements?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. That’s certainly a new one.

Kuroo clears his throat. “No, no, sir, I’m not accusing you of anything.”

You can hear some chatter from the other end of the phone, but none of it’s legible.

They go back and forth for a while as you sip your drink, watching as Kuroo’s patience wears ludicrously thin. That late night must be really getting to him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ll have to refer you to someone higher up,” Kuroo sighs, two fingers massaging his temple. “I’m in no position to deal with this in a way you would find acceptable.”

At that, he presses a button on the phone’s interface, officially making this customer ‘not his problem.’

“What was that?” You ask, leaning towards him.

Kuroo rolls his eyes, stretching over the back of his chair. “I don’t know. It’s too early for this…”

You reach over to pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He chuckles. “It’s only, what? Just past 8:30? I didn’t think I’d get an asshole so early.”

“Maybe god hates you.”

“His loss.”

You laugh, opening your mouth to respond.

Your own work phone rings. Your mood significantly drops.

Kuroo winks at you. “Into the fray.”

You sigh, picking it up. “Japan Volleyball Association, sports promotion division. How may I help you?”

Answering calls, bargaining with sponsors, checking statistics … they may not have been the most exciting of activities, but they were part of a day’s work. It’s not exactly where you saw yourself ending up after university, but you aren’t going to snub your nose at your chance for a steady income.

Sharing a cubicle with Kuroo, at least, made things a bit more bearable.

In fact, he’d helped you settle in. On your very first day, when you were gripped with nerves and doubt, Kuroo had plonked a green tea on your desk with a warm smile. That had become a little bit of a habit, with whoever was slated to get to work last turning up with caffeine for two.

Frankly, he’d terrified you a bit, at first; you feel bad about it now, but when someone was that tall and that… intimidating, you couldn’t help it.

But, he’d disarmed you quite quickly, and willingly offered himself up as your port of call in this new tempest of a workplace. And for that, you would always be grateful to him.

You check the time. 11:15 AM. You turn to your cubicle mate, tapping him on the shoulder.

He looks over at you, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m going to go get lunch. Did you want anything?”

Kuroo spins around in his chair, standing up to full height. You often forgot just how tall he was, the bastard. “I’ll come with you, if you’d like.”

“Uh… sure.”

He tells you about the stream on the short walk to the boba shop, which is just tucked around the corner. Apparently, his friend had managed to raise the equivalent of twenty-one million yen.

“My charm and good lucks account for at least a third of those millions,” he assured you.

You didn’t quite believe that. You had a feeling that it had more to do with that Black Jackals player Kenma was purportedly close to.

Kuroo sighs as he holds the door of the boba shop open for you, ushering you inside. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, ducking under his arm and into the crowded little store. The cold isn’t enough to drive off the large throng of customers. If anything, it looked more busy than usual. But, more and more people seem to flow through Tokyo as the year’s end draws closer.

The two of you stand in line, huddled just inside the warmth of the boba shop at the end of a long line.

“So,” Kuroo swallows, his gaze particularly interested in the ceiling. “I have… a favour, to ask.”

“I’m not covering shifts for you.”

“Not that,” he shakes his head, digging his hands deep in his pockets. “It’s, uh… it’s a bit more personal.”

You look up at him, blinking. “You sound like you’re asking me to help you commit a murder.”

“Not quite.”

“Not quite?!”

“I just mean that I’m asking you to do something that’s a little morally bankrupt.” He still hasn’t looked directly at you yet.

“Kuroo, you’re going to give me a panic attack.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he shakes his head again. He looks like he’s about to ask you something quite serious; frightening, even. You’re not used to seeing such a solemn look on his face. It scares you.

He takes a deep breath. “Can you pretend to be my girlfriend for the next month or so?”

It takes a moment for the question to properly click in your mind.

“I’m sorry, what?”

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: oh Boy Here We Go,,,

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #cause & effect #cause and effect by rowan #queued

386 notes · View notes

an-annyeoing-writer · 3 years

Text

Chanyeol x Reader: mistrust. [+18]

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: s*xual content, verbal degradation, low-key exh*bitionism, power play.

Author’s note: The story is, mostly, PwP, however I hope you enjoy it~!

Knock, knock, knock.

Three knocks of a perfect volume and an interval in between, followed by silence. The sequence ends with a quiet “come in” – quiet only because you’re on the other side of the door; the voice itself is confident, almost harsh.

You take a deep breath and open the door. You don’t feel too nervous – only to an extent to which you know you should be; only to an extent to which he expects you to fear him, whether in these particular circumstances or on a daily basis.

You close the door behind yourself and stand in the entry, eyes downcast. You briefly spotted him sitting at the desk in the center of the room, before you acknowledged that, just as his own gaze is down in his own documents that he’s analyzing right now, you also ought not to stare without his approval.

However, you can’t help stealing small glances at the way he looks with his glasses on. You rarely see him wear these; he wears them when working and it’s a rare thing for him to allow anyone to intrude when he’s on the job.

Whether it’s as his employee or as his lover – no matter how ethical or not it would be, for it’s a family business, and no one can tell him what to do – you always do your best to not disappoint him. The company is big, but the highest floor is reserved only for his closest circle, including his friends who have co-owned and managed the company for years, and you. Outside of the building, you may allow yourself to take a break, drink, and do all the things that friends usually do. Here, on the other hand, you ought to obey the other’s decisions and stay moderately distanced, and although he’s a compassionate leader, you know that your employment greatly depends on your actual performance, not your relationship. He made it clear when he hired you; he wants you as his lover, but as his worker – you need to prove your worth.

So you end up standing there, at the door, with your hands folded neatly in front of yourself, waiting with feigned patience for the other to finally acknowledge your presence, as any employee would when called over by their superior.

And eventually, he does notice you. His eyes lift up, piercing through you, before you even register that shuffling of paper has finally ceased and you feel consequently brave enough to check the reason. The stare intimidates you and you quickly look back down.

“Why did I call you over?” He beckons.

It sounds like a silly question, and you really wish it was. You wish for your answer to be simple and oblivious, you wish that “I don’t know” was an option. You open your mouth, but the reply just won’t come – all you feel is shame, and you wish to erase the probable issue at hand from your existence; you know what he summoned you here for, even if neither of you say it. You really failed. Not at work, at least. But it didn’t seem to be an issue for him to use his power to call you out.

“Well?”

“I-I…” you start.

“Look at me when you talk to me.”

You wish it was the case that you had enough strength to actually speak. You look up nonetheless, your hair barely hiding you from his gaze. His face is stern, no emotion written there, only a small scowl at your apparent misdemeanor.

“You’ve got nothing to say now, do you?” His tone raises a bit higher, a bit louder, not startling you but sending an unpleasant tingle down your spine. He doesn’t wait for you to answer this time. “No, you don’t. The frisky bitch had a whole lot to say when she talked to my friends behind my back, and now suddenly she’s all but wordy. That’s rich.”

Once he finally says it out loud, the whole heaviness on your shoulders falls to the ground. It’s as if there were figurative thick chains that were previously wrapped around you, dangling heavily around your neck, which finally lift, and even though you don’t need to carry them anymore, you still feel pulled down and prevented from moving on. But it’s true. He knows what happened: you showed your weakness. A bit drunk, a bit emotional, a few thoughtless comments spilled out.

“Get on the couch. Undress.”

You neither question nor hesitate; you know you’re in absolutely no place to do that. You take the pants off before sitting down and folding them nicely on the floor, and then off goes your shirt. Your movements begin to slow down, but only for a short moment. You glance up – he’s not concerned with you anymore, but you know that he won’t take it well if you don’t hurry. The underwear goes off as well, then. Everything is folded, by your hand, nicely by the couch which you sit on naked, covering your intimate parts with your hands, eyes downcast to stop yourself from looking at him every few seconds to check his reaction. Because there’s no reaction to check.

“Lay down. Back.”

He doesn’t say too much, only what’s absolutely necessary, short commands reminiscent of what would be said to a dog – and you do feel like one. You lay on your back on the couch as told to. The piece of furniture is at the side of the room and he didn’t specify if you should lay in the direction of the door or face him. Manners tell you to arrange yourself so that when you raise your head, you’ll see him more easily – although you’re not so sure if it’s truly due to manners or just a practical choice.

“Masturbate.”

The word sounds emotionless, rolling off his tongue. It’s not a “touch yourself”, it’s not a “please yourself”, there’s no frills to it. The command is simple, the word – embarrassing without any sexual overtone to it. You feel awkward. But you know you’re to comply. It’s nothing out of the ordinary; only a bit more unusual and shameful, but nothing that he wouldn’t have asked of you earlier after all. It’s a command you can comply with easily.

And that’s exactly why you’re worried. The command is too easy for it to be all.

You can’t get yourself to relax, or to feel nice. Nerves nipping at you prevent you from indulging in the sensation that would have been so nice otherwise. You become frustrated; what’s wrong? He’s there, and he’s your biggest turn-on. But you just can’t get wet when you’re this stressed. Your fingers rub the dry surface, trying to get it to release at least a bit of moisture to ease the discomfort, but you can’t even count on that. At least, after a few minutes, the sensation itself becomes bearable and you can focus on it, totally aware that the man is ignoring your efforts regardless. He’s back to his documents, reports and forecasts that have little to do with your person. How is he managing to focus on them when you’re naked a few meters away? – you’ve got no clue.

Knock, knock, knock.

You panic and sit up. Your gaze goes straight to the man sitting there, not your lover in this setting, but he doesn’t reciprocate the glance, although he does look up – in the door’s direction.

“Come in.” He states simply.

You feel a pang of jealousy at the gentle, friendly tone that he uses, nothing like how he spoke to you earlier. But the thought rapidly disappears when a more urgent issue arises.

The door opens and you quickly sit up to cover yourself – but no command is spoken. You might expect him to tell you to lay back down and continue; you know just how twisted he is. But he doesn’t, nor does he tell you to leave; the permission to do so is not granted and you’re stuck in between all these circumstances, without a single idea as to what to do.

A familiar silhouette appears in the doorway, a man in a suit smiling softly.

“I’ve got your documents, you got mine?”

“Ah, Myeon, sure.”

He comes in. Whether he doesn’t notice you or it doesn’t even phase him to see such a thing at this point – you have honestly no clue. But he passes by the couch, not even sparing you a glance, although you can tell he’s careful not to step on your clothes. He delivers the documents to Chanyeol, who stands up to receive them out of courtesy. They exchange a few polite comments, a few smiles, signs of respect that you know you’re not about to experience anytime soon.

Your nerves slowly settle down, but you’re still just as confused as earlier. None of this makes any sense – was it planned ahead? Was it a scheme to embarrass you? Unbelievable.

Junmyeon leaves, but you’re, in turn, left unable to go back to your previous act. You stare at the man sitting at the desk, expecting an explanation that never comes.

“Chanyeol-ssi…?”

The title sounds foreign on your tongue – it always does – but you say it nonetheless.

He finally spares you a glance. His eyebrows raise in contempt, a quiet disdain at your foolishness. He waits for you to speak, to form a question.

“Chanyeol-ssi, what should I do…?”

He rests chin on his palm, staring at you with an almost bored expression.

“That must be so confusing to you, right?” You hesitate, but nod. He licks his lips, not hurrying the words that are about to come. “To not know what other people are up to. Confusing. Maybe even saddening.” You feel even more shame now, realizing how much you underestimated your own wrongdoings. “Communication is the key after all.”

“I’m sorry…” you whimper. You want it to sound sincere, but it turns out to be nothing but pathetic, even to your own ears. What can you do? – it’s too late to take that back. You never meant any harm, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t cause any. “I’m really sorry…”

“I started doubting you, you know?” He doesn’t let you speak now, and you try to be grateful, because it means you don’t need to take the responsibility for the conversation upon yourself. “How can I trust someone who acts disrespectfully as soon as I’m not around?”

“It wasn’t like this, I swear…”

“I know how it was. I saw it. But you’re lucky.”

He stands up from his seat. You cower under his gaze as he approaches you and stares you down, but his tone of voice now seems as though things won’t end badly after all. You feel a simple need to endure whatever is to come.

“You’re lucky because I know that, with how stupid you are, you wouldn’t survive a day without my guidance. Look at you now. It was enough that I didn’t look at you for a minute and you’ve already made a fool out of yourself.”

He grabs your face and pushes you back down onto the couch, kicking your legs so you get the cue to get back into your previous position.

“I never told you to stop. Keep going,” he barks.

Your hands tremble as you reach down again; maybe the trembling will help you accomplish the task, you think bitterly.

He crouches down at your side, one hand reaching behind your head and holding the couch’s armrest there, ensnaring you in. He watches your movements with unreadable expressions, even as you glance up and stare at him intensely, granted a perfect perspective to view his jaw and the close proximity allowing you to see the texture of his skin and hair, and, God – the smell of his perfume. He’s close. You missed him so close. You don’t dare to reach to him, though you crave him hopelessly. But it’s enough – it starts to feel good. Fuck, just having him so close feels good. What else could you want?

“You’re so fucking horny. Are you seriously getting off because I scolded you? You perv.” You hear his breathy laugh. You want to argue, which seems so immoral, but the way his words turn you on even more make you realize he’s nothing but right and that he knows you just too well at this point. It’s not like he didn’t know such a reaction would come from you, but calling you out on it just stirs your mind further, messes with your emotions, rids you off any defense you ever had against him. It’s not like you needed such defense anyway. “Whore.”

You nod fast in response, agreeing to every single thing; you don’t dare to do anything but what he tells you to, but you still want to let him know that you’re active and fervent, and that you hear his words and take them in with gratitude.

“Say that. Say what you are.”

His lips twist into a grin as you moan out loud before you manage to say a single word. You fight to catch your breath as your wrist starts to ache and your fingers begin to lock.

“I-I… W-whore…”

The hand holding the armrest grabs your hair instead, pulling your head up roughly and forcing you to look at him, his eyes on fire as if he were a madman now. The other hand, before you can see it happening, presses into yours, maneuvers your fingers around your clit harder and faster than you alone are capable of.

With a loud scream, your pleasure unravels and your back arches off the couch, hands flying around and grasping onto whatever there is, yet – head held tightly in place, scalp burning, eyes not leaving his even for a second until slowly, slowly, everything comes back down and stills.

He spits in your face.

You accept it with gratitude.

“Know your place.”

Your hair is released, your emotions fall down. His hand rests upon your forehead, stroking it gently as you lie there, breathing heavily. A gentle kiss to your lips follows, however short, but it’s enough to set you at peace, and you just know that there’s no better place for you than the one you’re in right now.

#exo chanyeol #exo smut #chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader #exo #park chanyeol #exo x reader #exo lemon #chanyeol lemon #chanyeol fanfiction #exo imagine #exo drabble #vg: chanyeol #vg: exo #vg: fanfiction

127 notes · View notes

darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

The Dark Team (part 4)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>> Join the taglist in here

The cold chains immobilizing your whole body were the thing you first noticed once you woke up. When your eyes finally opened, you observed your surroundings carefully, silently. Barely opening your eyes, just in case. Your teammates were equally tied up by your sides, and Bucky was unconscious. Loki, on the other hand, was looking around less confused than he should have.

“Oh, you did this”, you spat suddenly, realizing what was going on. Of course he would betray the team; it was all you knew about him, and history did not disappoint.

“What?” he asked, now confused. “I certainly did not. I’m trying to figure out where we are”.

“Yeah, and you want me to blindly trust you on this one? What did you do to Tony? A dumb potion or…”.

“He doesn’t need me and my magic to act idiotic, he manages that himself”, he said. Once he actually got to talk, he wouldn't stop, would he? “But if you need me to, I can try to make him even dumber, then he would have some idea to form a Dark Team. Oh, wait”, said sarcastically.

“Be free to give us your input on the crew, come on, don’t be shy”.

While you two argued, Bucky was gaining consciousness again.

“Look who decided to get up from his nappy”.

“Shut up”, he managed to say, looking around. He quickly realized where you were. “Fuck. I know this place”.

“Do enlighten us”.

“Loki, I swear to God, shut up or I’m gonna shove my metal arm through your…”.

“Where are we, Buck?”, you interrupted impatiently.

“This is a Hydra base”.

“Oh fuck”.

“Great”.

You started making escape plans in your head in record time, but then you realized; maybe you shouldn’t escape. Maybe you should arrange some plan to make the mission done from the inside. The chances of the stick being there were bigger than somewhere else.

“That’s a better idea”, resonates Loki’s voice in your head. You screamed, not expecting his magic. So he has telepathy, you thought. You looked at him amazed, and he smiled smugly. You realized, if he can access your head, then he could’ve heard…

“Oh yes, I’ve heard it all, dear. But don’t worry, I’m used to it. Many people find me... how did you say? Extremely attractive?”.

You blushed and looked uncomfortably to the roof, trying to get the plan straight, ignoring his mockery. But he kept going.

“Comparing me to a british mortal man, though… I don’t appreciate it. A Nordic God is way better in every sense”.

Your blush turned to bright red paint all over your face, and he chuckled. Bucky was observing the interaction fascinated. For him, you were two idiots who looked at each other weirdly and reacted to that. But as much as you tried to avoid him, he kept talking in your head.

“It’s alright, darling. I like to be praised, even at the strangest moments. Can’t believe you went for a plain ‘hot’, though. I think I’d be worth at least a ‘so hot my brain is melting at his only sight…”.

“Oh my God, shut up!” you shouted, interrupting his egocentric rant.

“What the… he didn’t say anything” said Bucky, even more confused than before. You were quite a pair.

“Yes, y/n, I didn’t say anything. Are you hallucinating? Did they poison you?”.

“I’m gonna choke you with those chains as soon as I get my hands free”.

“I would love to see you trying”, he challenged.

“Guys, can you pleeeeaaassseee focus?”, said Bucky, losing his patience.

“I’m trying to focus on making a plan,” you whispered. “It would be much easier if you two shut up for the love of God”.

“How could you not predict our ship would get hijacked? Aren’t you the brainy of the team?”.

“James, don’t make me spit on your face”.

“I’d suggest whatever ‘plan’ you’re thinking that would get us out of here, do it faster, because I don’t think they’d leave us here alone much more time”, said Loki.

“What? You afraid of some little mortal kidnappers? I thought, for a God, it wouldn’t be so hard to take them down. Unless you’re full of crap. You know, once in my life I finally think I’d be alright being on charge of the mission, you two had to be here, ready to ruin...”.

“Are you still planning on choking me? Because that would do wonders to my ears, to finally stop listening to you”.

“Can you two stop flirting?”, interrupted Bucky. “I didn’t think the worst thing about getting kidnapped by Hydra would be not being alone".

"But here we are”.

Bucky ripped the chains off him and freed you too, leaving Loki tied. The God didn't complain, and instead made the chains dissolve with a spell. You looked around again. A plan started to form in your head and you followed your instinct through it, knowing it’d lead somewhere good at some point. After a few minutes of complete silence, you finally have it all figured out.

“Tiny genius has an idea”, announced Loki, who apparently was reading your mind the whole time. You looked at Bucky and he nodded, as he made his way through the room, destroying every camera and microphone he was able to find.

“We’re listening now”.

“Alright. Look”. You took out of your pocket a whiteboard marker and started scribbling nonsense on the tiles of the wall. Loki and Bucky shared a concerned look. You explained the whole plan, head to toes. It included explosions, illusions of dead bodies and infiltrations of high risk throughout the building. But they didn’t seem fazed at the difficulty of the idea. “Any questions?”.

“Yeah. Do you always carry a whiteboard marker or just on very dangerous missions?”, asked Bucky.

“Oh. No, always. Anyways, what do you think of the plan?”.

“I think you’re nuts”, said Bucky. Loki was paying very little attention and you doubted he even heard your plan. You sighed.

“Look, Barnes. My poor self preservation instincts are what got me in this Stark internship in the first place, so if you’re gonna insult my nuttery consider how far it got me”, you answered, pointing at him with the marker. “And you, did you even hear it? What do you think?”.

“Oh, yes. I think you’re out of your mind”.

“Are you kidding me, Loki? You did worse things”.

“But I support your idea. It 's madness. It’ll work”, he added, and you smirked.

“Well, it’s better than the alternative, at least”, accepted Bucky. “So, we have an escape plan, but we don’t have an actual plan to get the mission done, you realize that?”.

“We can figure it out once we’re out of sight from the Hydra toys”.

“You know, I don’t know what is it with you, Steve and Sam, but you guys never have plans, and it gets on my nerves”.

“I have a plan, I always have a plan, Buck. That’s my part of the job. Just… trust me, okay?”, you asked.

“You’re getting kinda hard to trust”, he said crossing his arms.

“I trust you”, added Loki after long seconds of painful silence. You felt the need to ask him why on Earth would he trust you, when not even your best friend trusted you on this one. But he looked at you with a glimmer of certainty in his eyes, and you didn’t want to push it, or make it vanish.

When everything was already set, Loki made the highly realistic illusions of your dead bodies (it even gave you chills, but you wouldn’t admit that, of course not). Bucky ran his hand through the pavement floor at the same time that you threw your watch against it, causing an explosion. You three flew away from the impact. You realized you haven’t thought this part very thoroughly, since they could obviously take the impact (a God and a supersoldier, why wouldn’t they?), but you were a mere human mortal with no superpowers or super suits.

You couldn’t look around as you fell from the building, since the remains of the room were falling apart, and the smoke and fire from the explosion were overwhelmingly close to your eyes, but you could sense you still had enough time to find the button on your suit to get the parachute on. You just had to find the damn button, that it was…

Loki grabbed you instantly, covering you with his whole body before the impact, making sure you didn’t even get a scratch. Then you realized you maybe didn’t have the parachute back-up plan under control, after all.

“Well, that was bigger than I had anticipated”, you said, getting up from Loki’s tired body and brushing off some ashes. He stayed there and sighed. “Now we know where we were. 5th floor, apparently”.

“And now we’re not even inside the building, as we needed. Great. Smart”.

“You know, I’d say this is a win. We’re not being held hostage now, and we have enough time to recalculate the plan from the outside. Less risk of getting…”. But you were interrupted by the cocking guns of the seven guards surrounding you.

“No, please, let them finish their sentence”, said Loki sarcastically, still laying on the smashed floor. “getting caught, were you gonna say?”.

“Well, yes. But I think, given the current circumstances, that you’d differ”.

“What could possibly make you think that?”.

“Not the time, guys”, cut Bucky, getting up and knocking down two guards. You fought with one of them. Loki didn’t even bother in body-to-body combat, and casted them away, fading their bodies into thin air.

“Where did you take them?”, asked Bucky.

“The explosion”.

“Are you stupid? They’ll notice the bodies are fake!”.

“No, not the past explosion. The current explosion”, he explained, and behind him you heard a building collapsing in the distance. You didn’t even ask. What for. Honestly.

After a while of walking around and not really getting anything from it, Bucky finally asked:

“So, the watch. Is it normal for you to keep explosive reactive components in there, or was that just part of a very premeditated plan we weren’t aware of?”.

“Oh, it was just a precaution I have. In case of emergencies”, you explained. They decided it would be better to not ask you why and how could you possibly keep pulling weirdly necessary things in the strangest moments. Why would they bother. Honestly.

You touched your earbud, trying to communicate with Stark. He was supposed to be in the line at some time around that, but, well, you didn’t have your watch with you anymore. Gladly, he answered. He said he was getting the coordinates to a hotel room, and he’d take you three to a different place than the anticipated, far away from that Hydra base. You needed time to establish, refill energy and make a better plan. Better than blowing things up. You had some time to spare now that you were temporarily presumed death.

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanon #loki x gender neutral reader #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki odinson #loki x y/n

85 notes · View notes

whumpzone · 4 years

Text

Tomas and Rowe - Part 12

thank you all so much for your patience! and for all the lovely birthday wishes <3 i hope this was worth the wait! also I know fuck all about medical stuff, please forgive me lol

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lave-e @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it

CW: dehumanisation, pet whumpee, self-harm mentions, very negative thoughts towards not being able to walk (please note: Rowe’s negativity towards not being able to walk comes entirely from the fact he was trained to kneel & doesn’t feel that he’s ‘earned’ the right to rest, and nothing else)

“The hospital says your leg should be fine to walk on in like a week,” Master said, holding the letter out for Rowe to see. Rowe breathed a sigh of relief. “But that’s obviously complete bullshit. They’re only saying that because you’re a Pet. You’ll need to rest for at least a month.”

“A month, Master?”

“Oh good, your ears work,” he replied, ruffling Rowe’s hair. “Now, I’d better make you something to eat.”

And before Rowe could protest (he shouldn’t protest, Pets don’t argue back), Master had gone, leaving Rowe with the ever-deepening knot in his stomach.

This was bad.

He couldn’t even walk. How on earth was he going to be useful now? He had tried to get up today, wanting to show Master Tomas that he was good, he knew a splint was no excuse, he could still get up and serve. But all that had happened was he put an ounce of weight on the stupid thing and immediately cried out in pain, bringing Master to force him back to bed.

So he couldn’t walk. He certainly couldn’t kneel. How would he beg properly? The knot twisted so horrifically at that thought that he felt nauseous. What would he do if he couldn’t beg? How would he get food, or sleep? How would he show Master that he was sorry after he broke a rule? How would he even be properly submissive if he was just fucking sitting there with his stupid, stupid, stupid broken leg?

His fist flew down towards it, but he stopped himself just in time. It’d only make him scream again, and Master had already given him a warning about that. Instead he stared at the letter from the hospital. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

He turned his head away. It just said what Master had told him. Master doesn’t lie, Rowe thought absently.

When Master returned some time later with a gently steaming mug and a plate of food, Rowe decided to beg in the only other way he knew how.

“M-Master,” he began, bowing his head and holding his curled up hands together, “Please, I can walk, I’ll be fine. Please let me try.”

“No, Rowe,” Master replied immediately, making Rowe’s heart sink.

“Please- I have to kneel-”

“You don’t. You need to rest. Walking will only make your leg worse. You’re delicate.”

“Th-then, please, Master, how will I- how will I beg for food, an-and sleep, and be good…”

Master set the tray down on Rowe’s -no, Master’s, nothing here was his possession, you know that Rowe- bedside table, and perched on the end of the bed. He was wearing a thin knitted cardigan that had slid down his shoulders to gather in the crook of his elbows. His rings, three of them today, clinked together as he took Rowe’s hand. Rowe had learnt that this meant a stern order was coming.

“You don’t need to kneel, pal. You don’t need to earn food or sleep, okay? You can take them freely.”

“N-no, I have to earn it, it’s a privilege, Master.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “If I give you permission to eat and sleep every day, will you do it?”

“Of course, Master.” An order was an order.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. You can eat this lunch. It’s just some spag bol.”

“Thank you, thank you, I’m very grateful, Master.” Rowe said, bowing his head submissively. Master rubbed his thumb along Rowe’s knuckles.

“But before you eat, I do have something else I need to say to you.”

Rowe tensed, nodding. Master stood, leaving Rowe’s hand feeling cold.

“I know what’s going on, okay? With all your mystery injuries. I know you didn’t trip when you broke your nose, I know you have new cuts along your shoulders, and I don’t even know how you were planning on hiding your legs from me. Jesus Christ, Rowe,” his voice faltered, trembling ever so slightly, with something that didn’t seem like anger, “it was fucking scary. I know you’re- look, I know you’ve been hurting yourself. Okay? That’s what this is about. I know you’ve done these things to yourself and it has to stop now.”

He sank to his haunches, bringing himself down to eye level, and took Rowe’s hands- both of them. Maybe he thought Rowe might lash out and hurt him too. Rowe wanted to protest, but Master hadn’t finished speaking.

“It has to stop, love. I care about you so, so much, and I know that you have had a scary fucking life. I- well, I don’t know, I couldn’t know what it’s been like for you, and what you’ve gone through. But I know you’re often very scared, and living with me has been very new and weird, yeah? And I know that when I got you, you were expecting something very different. I’m not…trying to put words in your mouth. B-but if you’re trying to, uh, make up for a lack of punishments, this isn’t how to do that, okay. We can work something out. Right now, I have to be firm with you. If you hurt yourself again, you will be in trouble. I don’t want to frighten you, and I will do everything I can to help you with this, but what matters most is you stopping. You’ve been escalating too, starting off with your nose, then knives, and now a hammer? It isn’t safe, Rowe. Do you understand? Oh, honey-”

Master wiped away the tears that had started to run down Rowe’s cheeks. He sniffed and meekly told Master that yes, he did understand.

“Alright. Is there anything you want to say? Do you want to talk about it? Anything you want me to do differently?”

Rowe wished he wasn’t crying. Crying made him look guilty. What could he say? He wanted to kneel so much.

“…I’m sorry, Master.”

“Don’t be sorry, Rowe. Everything is going to be fine. Things will be a bit different while your leg heals…but you will get used to it. We will get used to it.”

Master’s thumb, wet with Rowe’s tears, moved to cup his face as he planted a small kiss on Rowe’s forehead. A kiss- that was new. He quite liked it.

thirty days until I’m useful again

The clock showed quarter past two in the morning. Master thought Rowe was hurting himself. Which did make sense -why would Master doubt his friend?- but it was wrong, and Rowe had always been taught that his owner was never wrong. Your owner doesn’t make mistakes, what they say goes, and their Pet shuts up and accepts it. But- but-

His head felt close to bursting with the conflicting information. And even worse, when Kasia next came and used him as a punching bag, Master was going to get angry. He would think Rowe had deliberately disobeyed him, and he would be so furious that after everything he had done for him, Rowe had had the nerve to ignore an order like that? After all his consideration, and patience, and, and, kindness.

He sank back against the bedframe and stared at his leg, propped up by a tower of cushions. He tried to wiggle his toes. It hurt. Was this Kasia’s plan all along? Make Rowe so pitiful that Master finally threw him out, for Kasia to snap up? The walls were caving in and here he was, helpless, watching it happen.

twenty-eight days until I’m useful again

“It’s getting cold,” Master said. Rowe mumbled an agreement, although he couldn’t say he felt cold, wrapped up as he was in a blanket on the sofa, his splinted leg poking out delicately. Master seemed to realise this and smiled softly. “I suppose you’re quite snug right now, aren’t you?”

“Th-thank you, Master.”

“No, no, I didn’t say it just to get a thank you. Being cold is the worst. Which reminds me, I have to take my pill. I’m a fiend for forgetting.”

“What’s your pill for, Master?”

There was a time Rowe would never have dared ask such a silly, invasive question, but Master had made it clear that he didn’t mind. He seemed to like it when Rowe talked and, as Master put it, ‘made conversation’. Besides, Rowe had never seen him take any sort of medication.

“Folic acid. For my sins. Or, well, mainly for my anemia.”

“What’s… what’s that?”

Although, maybe he was still pushing it. Old master would have laughed at Rowe’s ignorance, before punishing him for asking.

“It’s a deficiency,” Master replied casually. “Makes me cold, and grumpy, and if I stand up too fast I go blind for a few seconds. Sometimes I faint! But this little top-up keeps me in order.”

Rowe watched Master chase the pill down with some water. Something about this felt… odd. Rowe had always been taught that a Pet’s owner was perfect. But now that he thought about it, Master did always seem to be wrapped up warm, or clutching a mug of tea.

“Do- do you- do you want this blanket?” Rowe ventured nervously. Master smiled and his eyes twinkled softly.

“Aw, Rowe, that is so kind. But I’m fine, honestly. You’re the one with the splint! You need to be wrapped up. I will come and sit with you, if that’s alright. Want to put the telly on?”

twenty-five days until I’m useful again

TV was a new and strange phenomenon for Rowe. Master rarely put it on before, but with Rowe spending most of his days confined to the sofa, wanting for nothing, being treated far better than he deserved, he had started watching some with his Pet- a routine that didn’t last long.

“I’m remembering why I don’t watch TV much,” remarked Master, filling up the kettle and eyeing the millionth episode of some dreadful home makeover show. “Bloody daytime shite.”

Rowe agreed, but he wouldn’t dare sound ungrateful. Until-

“What do you think, pal?”

That question again. “It’s- uh- n-not that great.”

“Thank fuck. Well done on telling the truth, love. I’ll try and find something a bit more exciting.”

Telling the truth. Rowe stared at his leg, and the cuts under his shirt ached.

twenty-two days until I’m useful again

Rowe could hardly focus on the book he was reading. It was called James and the Giant Peach, and it was charming (and he was reading!), but he couldn’t stop his skin from crawling.

Master was sat beside him, typing away on the laptop balanced on his knees, (complaining because ever since Adam had come over everyone at work had started being weirdly polite in their emails) but for some reason his closeness wasn’t the issue. It should be, Rowe knew. He should be far more scared of his Master than he was.

“You alright, pal? Haven’t turned a page in a while. Is there a word you’re struggling with?”

Rowe flinched as Master leant in. “I really- really want to be useful, Master, please,” he admitted.

“Ahh, you’re feeling a bit restless? That’s totally normal. Happens to all people.”

But I’m not a person, Rowe thought. Maybe Master was just trying to relate.

“I know what you can do. You want a chore, right?”

Rowe nodded enthusiastically. “Yes please, Master.”

“Righty. Two secs.”

The basket of freshly dried laundry dropped onto the sofa with a thunk, and a few seconds later Master sat next to it with a ‘’here you go, pal, fancy doing some folding?’’

The itchiness went away in a heartbeat. He had barely stammered out a thank you before he had seized the first item and got to work.

When his hands brushed against Master Tomas’s he looked up in confusion. Master simply smiled at him while neatly folding a pair of trousers.

What? Was Rowe not being fast enough? Was he being clumsy? Was Master showing him how, because Rowe was doing such a terrible job? Was he- was he in trouble?

“Hey, don’t worry,” said Master, seeing the look on Rowe’s face. “Just thought I’d do my share. We both live here after all, don’t we?”

“But- but- this is what I’m for, Master?”

“You’re doing this because you wanted to. I haven’t asked. These last few days you’ve just been resting and I’ve been perfectly happy with you.”

Rowe never understood when Master spoke in riddles like that. Why couldn’t he just be direct in what he wanted from Rowe?

“O-okay, Master.”

nineteen days until I can kneel

“This is for you,” Master said, opening up the parcel that had clattered through the letterbox earlier and made Rowe jump. He watched as Master Tomas ran a pair of scissors through the tape, and his chest felt… fine? Like even though Master could hurt him, and he probably should, it wasn’t a scary thought. Before Rowe had a chance to think about that further, Master brought out a pair of very fluffy socks.

“For me?” he asked, even though that was exactly what he’d just been told. He just couldn’t quite believe it, even after everything Master had given him.

“Yeah! Got to keep your feet warm, pal. Want to try them on?”

Rowe nodded and slipped them on. They were patterned with red and white stripes, and they came up almost to his knee on his free leg. Master Tomas helped him fold the other down to sit underneath the splint.

“Thank you so much, they’re lovely,” Rowe said earnestly, and- even better- actually smiled. Master Tomas smiled straight back at him.

seventeen days left until I can use my leg

“Have you always been a Pet?” Master asked suddenly. Rowe looked up from his book, his fingers curling in at the memory of his training.

“Yes, Master.”

“You didn’t have a life before it?”

“No. I was trained to be a Pet… that’s all I know.”

This seemed to be the wrong answer. Master frowned deeply.

“Don’t you have anyone missing you? Is there someone you care about, somewhere out there?”

“Only you, Master.”

And it was the utmost truth, and Rowe hoped Master believed him, because Rowe didn’t want him to worry.

fourteen days until I’m healed

eleven days left of resting

nine days left- because it’s good for me

five days left and I feel so much better already

three days left-

“Hey, Kas,” Master said, his voice floating down the stairs. Rowe went stiff. He had almost forgotten- Master had been so kind that he, he, he had got complacent. How did he let himself forget? “The hospital told me I didn’t ever properly sign the forms for Rowe. Call me back when you get this, and we can sort it out? Cheers, mate. See you.”

A beep. Rowe could barely breathe. He pressed a hand to his face to calm himself. It was a voicemail, Kasia didn’t pick up, there was still time-

Master’s soft footsteps padded towards him-

Rowe tried in vain not to cry. He was so weak, crying at the mere mention of his tormentor. Master was seconds from rounding the corner into the living room. Kasia would come soon. And then what? What would he do to Rowe this time? And what would Master say?

Rowe’s chest heaved with his panicked breaths.

What could he do?

#tomas and rowe #pet whump #pet whumpee #master/pet #whump #whump fic #dehumanisation #also hey! a chapter wholly from rowes perspective!#i enjoyed it a lot #tw self harm

251 notes · View notes