#“tested” if he knew how to “dance”
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EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎
004 》 KIM MINGYU …still
dinner with your family was always extra, just a hint to what thanksgiving with your full extended family would be. when your twin invites mingyu, does he sink or swim? …what about you?
wc 11.3k (i'm sorry) | smut minors dni, oral sex, facesitting, penetration, age gap
it was as if you never left in the first place– everyone sitting around the couch, vivi on the farthest corner, the only new addition being ace’s girlfriend. all eyes were on you as you walked in the door with a goofy smile on your face, you were floating once again, but this dance with gravity was different– it was entirely yours, and you planned to keep it that way.
your feet brought you to your staircase on instinct, not muttering a single greeting to any of the six on the couch, you needed to shower, debrief your night with no one but yourself. in these moments a part of you wished that you had a girlfriend you could call, someone outside of your circle to share your night with, the details of mingyu. you didn’t want to hear the opinions of your boys, you couldn’t share it with your twin, your sister was far too young and too judgmental. you wanted someone to share your excitement with, someone who would be just as excited for you. you had no choice but to keep everything locked inside.
tears welled in your eyes as you undressed in your bathroom because you didn't have that person, maybe you wanted it more than you thought. you convinced yourself that the hot water coming from your shower head was the only liquid streaming down your cheeks, you told yourself you had no reason to be upset in the first place– mingyu was perfect, he would come to be your person, you were sure. you thought it was greedy to be anything other than completely elated— the tears still flowed.
in the shower your mind traveled, you didn’t think opening up to someone new would make you so emotional, it had been a long time since you’ve told anyone about your dad, everyone who knew about him knew everything– they were by your side through all of it. by the end of your shower your tears had stopped flowing, but as you pulled your tee shirt over your head, they returned with vengeance and for a completely different reason.
you missed him. your eyes flew to your desk, the framed picture of you and your dad on your first day of sixth grade, he sat on the steps of the school with his arms wrapped around you. you remembered being so nervous to start middle school, crying before you even began getting ready that morning, your mom running frantically around the house to get you to school on time, packing your and ace’s lunches, making sure your backpacks had everything they needed. he usually left the house before you and ace had woken up, but he went into work late that day to see you off to school, always present no matter what.
you could still hear his voice in your head– “middle school is just like elementary school, tiny, all of your same friends will be there, and you’ll even make more. if you get scared, ace will be right beside you the whole day.”
you could feel his hand on your head, a kiss on your forehead, “how about i take you to school? mommy will take vivi to kindergarten, i’ll take you and your brother. will that help?”
you remembered nodding, sniffing your snot back up your nose, hugging him with your tiny body with so much force it pushed him backward. he laughed, a deep, hearty chuckle with a rasp that could only be caused by the cigars he was always smoking. you wished you knew that was the last first day of school he’d witness, you would’ve hugged him a little harder, pushed him back with a little more force.
“i miss him, too,” ripped out of your memory with your twin’s hand on your shoulder, you jumped out of your skin. his voice was quiet, like he was testing the waters, he didn’t know where your head was at.
“you think he’d be proud of us?” you asked him after a pause, looking into eyes that mirrored your own, a face that still looked the same as it did the first day of sixth grade. ace smiled, a warm smile that was comforting as much as it was reassuring.
“you kidding?” he looked at you as if that was the most stupid question you’ve ever asked, “his kids are in school to be a teacher and a lawyer, he’s bragging about us to every single person he can up there, you know him.”
you laughed through your tears, wiping your eyes. he always did brag about you growing up, he gave every single one of his friends full descriptions of your report cards. ace’s gaze changed, from comforting to protective, “is this actually about dad? you’re not upset because of your date, right?”
you shook your head, “i’m not even upset, i think dad would really like him. makes me wish he was here to meet him.”
“that’s how i feel about reia,” he smiles, sitting down on your bed, and you follow to the spot next to him, laying down flat on your back, silent tears falling past your cheeks to your comforter. ace twists to look at you, “he’s with us all the time, he watches everything.”
“i know,” you mumble, “i told mingyu about him, i didn’t know it’d make me feel like this.”
“wow,” his voice was breathy, his eyebrows raising, “you’re serious about him, then? you don’t talk to anyone about dad.”
he continues after he’s met with silence, you didn’t know how to answer. “you should bring him here this weekend, have him come for dinner on saturday. yeo, san and yunho’s families are coming, too.”
you sit up on your elbows, “since when?”
“i think yesterday?” he tilts his head, “i don’t know, mom told me this morning. she said ‘family dinner on saturday’, you know what that means.”
your eyes feel swollen, a yawn passing through your lips, heavy and long as you lay flat on your back again. “i’ll see if he’s free.”
ace gets up, walking to your door, “you seem off lately, i hope you know you can talk to me.”
you turn your head, it’s like he knew exactly what was going through your mind earlier. he leans against your doorframe, “i know i’m your brother and not a girlfriend, but i can feel when something’s going on with you. i’m always here if you need me.”
you nod, and he takes it as his leave, you can hear his footsteps leading back down the stairs to the living room. you crawl up your bed, pulling back your blankets to get comfortable beneath them, exhaustion hitting you like a truck. as much as you missed your dad, you could always find him in your brother, an extension of the man your dad was. you had everyone you needed around you.
you brought up dinner to mingyu the next morning when he called, and he agreed to come immediately— not a moment of hesitation. nerves coursed through you as soon as he said yes, knowing that come saturday, there was no more bubble. the thought crossed your mind that maybe things were moving a little too fast, maybe inviting him to meet your family was too soon, but if mingyu was quick to say yes then he felt the pace of your relationship was just fine. you pushed the thought from your mind.
────── ꨄ︎
nervous was an understatement for how you felt about mingyu coming over– you were in the bathroom once an hour, if not more, starting from noon. being almost five… you weren’t sure how you had anything left in you. you shouldn’t be this nervous, you were just with him last night at his place, you even discussed today in depth so you wouldn’t be nervous.
you’ve never brought a guy around your family before and as much as you were confident in mingyu being the first, you were still scared of your family’s judgement– especially scared of how your friends would feel about him; but if you couldn’t get through your immediate family for a simple saturday night dinner, you’d never get through thanksgiving. you could do this, they would love him, just like he told you they would.
your mother had catered, of course she did, only the five of you and the catering company in your house until your company would arrive. the smell of food consumed your house, the only time you smelled anything close to a home cooked meal was when someone paid for it and yet it still smelled nothing like the dinner mingyu cooked for you. your mother was dressed up, which you were sure the rest of the boys’ families would be as well, meaning matt and your siblings would be, too. family dinners were always… extra, in the best and worst way. you had to dress up like you were going to a restaurant just for the restaurant to be brought to you.
ace was in deep blue jeans, a blue sweater that was somehow a darker blue than the jeans, a white collared shirt peeking out from underneath. his sweater hid his tattoos, a watch on his wrist, glasses on his face– he could see just fine, that was your mothers’ doing, for sure.
vivi didn’t look much different than usual, you realized she looked like you– blue hair wrapped up in a clip, a short, black dress, cardigan with a pair of loafers, she looked both sixteen and not sixteen. you tilted your head as you stared at your family wandering about the kitchen, siblings stealing appetizers from plates carefully placed atop the kitchen island… it all looked so staged, it dawned on you that this was not a simple saturday family dinner at all. you couldn’t help but wonder what mingyu would think.
you didn’t have to wonder for long as san’s family piled through your front door, mingyu following right behind them– prompt, just as you’d expected. as it usually does, seeing his face willed away all of your worries, his smile bringing forward the excitement you’d buried deep beneath the anxiety. he held a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine after you told him not to bring anything, your feet started moving before you willed them to.
“hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, pulling himself to the side of the crowd that he followed inside your foyer, canines showing in a wide smile before leaning down to press his lips to yours. dressed as if you’d sent him a dress code, he looked the same as the rest of you– a loose button down that had one side tucked into black slacks, a pair of sneakers on his feet that you just knew were expensive, a black jacket hung over his broad shoulders. you reached for the flowers and wine, which he quickly lifted far above your head, shaking his head. “these are for your mom, silly girl.”
your cheeks flushed, “what a gentleman, where’s my gift?”
“you’re looking at it,” his smile was impossibly wider, maybe even mischievous as he stood tall again, shoulders wide as he scanned your foyer, taking it upon himself to walk inside. you called for your mom who was in the middle of kissing san’s mom on both cheeks in greeting.
your mom’s eyes widened just enough for you to catch it before she hurried over to where you and mingyu stood, quickly reaching upward to hook her hands around mingyu’s neck. “mingyu! it’s so great to meet you, i’ve heard so many good things!”
you almost roll your eyes– she’s heard close to nothing about mingyu. you wanted to save it for tonight, to let everyone meet mingyu and know him themselves before you gave out information. he offered her the flowers and the bottle of wine and she blushed– you wanted to crawl out of your skin, but a part of you was proud at the same time.
“handsome, kind man– tiny, he’s a keeper,” she whispered to you in passing as she brought mingyu’s gifts towards the kitchen, handing them to one of the caterers who promptly followed her orders, despite it not being their job.
mingyu followed as you greeted san’s family, pressing a kiss to his mom’s cheeks, a prompt hug to his dad before you finally reached san who wore the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen. his voice was hushed as he said, “i understand why you’re keeping him to yourself.”
your smile swiftly changed into a smirk, “tell me about it, you wanna meet him?” you ushered mingyu over, pulling him away from san’s parents who he was already in the midst of a conversation with, introducing him to san who looked like he saw an angel. they quickly fell into conversation, the topic turning into gym talk quicker than you thought it would, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest.
yeosang and his family followed shortly after, his mom rushing in with a bottle of red wine, hurrying straight to your mom where you were sure she was dying to tell her some form of drama. yeosang followed behind, making a beeline straight to where you stood with the two men, an impressed look on his face.
his eyebrows were raised, head tilted towards mingyu in a way you knew said ‘is this him?’ and you gave him a proud smile– this was going so much better than the million terrible scenarios you imagined. yeosang interrupted their conversation to introduce himself to mingyu, the two shaking hands, effectively pushing you out of the triangle they formed almost immediately.
yunho’s family was last to show up, his tall figure looming over the rest of his family, you caught his eye just as he stepped over the threshold into your foyer. the four of you stood in the living room off to the side, mere feet from where he walked in– yet he followed his parents straight into your kitchen, completely dismissing you where the group of you stood.
you seem to be the only one who noticed as you quirked a brow, your feet leading you to the kitchen before you had a moment to think about it. “hey,” you said softly, your eyebrows slightly knitted together, your arm coming up to rest on the sleeve of his jacket.
he twists his body to look down at you, muttering a “hey” that matched yours before he was tugging off the sleeves of his jacket. you pulled your hand back to your side.
“everything okay?” you tilted your head, taking his jacket from him, bouncing on your feet– adrenaline was coursing through you, if you wanted anyone to like mingyu, it was yunho. his aloof attitude was almost enough to wake your nerves back up.
“yeah, all good, was that the boyfriend at the door?” he looked over your head, eyes going back to your living room where the three still stood. ace walked over, mouth full of another one of the appetizers he’d been snacking on for at least the past hour, interrupting you and yunho entirely.
“what up? these are really good,” he lifted his hand up to the two of you, two more of the finger foods in his palm, talking with his mouth open and full of food. you lifted your top lip in disgust, shaking your head, walking to the closet to hang yunho’s jacket.
when you walked back to the living room, ace and mingyu were shaking hands, one of the finger foods in mingyu’s open palm– definitely from ace. yunho stood next to him, his face stoic as it was moments ago, all of the men now in conversation. you made your way around the circle, taking everyone’s jacket– host duties.
“i can hang mine,” mingyu shook his head when you finally got to him, looking baffled that you even asked for his jacket, “you have enough in your hands, sweetheart. here, let me take some.”
your cheeks flushed as he took all of the jackets from your arms, the rest of the boys watching as you led him to the closet, hanging each jacket from his arms onto the wooden rack in the middle of your hallway.
“they’re all super cool,” mingyu’s voice was quiet as you took another jacket from his arms so only you could hear him, “not at all intimidating like you made it out to be.”
“is that sarcasm?” you give a playful smile, tilting your head, keeping your eyes on him as you put the sleeves of yeosang’s jacket over the hanger.
“they’re all much younger than me,” mingyu’s face was unbothered, blank without a trace of sarcasm, “you were nervous for nothing. you and ace look the exact same, it’s kind of terrifying.”
you rolled your eyes, a sound of amusement escaping you, “you know we’re twins, gyu.”
“i’d believe you if you told me that you were identical,” he raised his eyebrows, shifting his weight to one foot after he handed you the last jacket.
facing the coat rack, you looked over your shoulder to say, “so i’ve heard.”
you brought him to the kitchen, the four families stood around the massive room, split into two groups– mothers with mothers, fathers with fathers and matt, everyone already deep in conversation. you lean toward mingyu, “they’ll talk until it’s time to eat, we usually hangout in the living room, then we’ll eat at the table that will remind you of the last fucking supper, then the parents usually all leave and the boys stay over.”
“you told me that last night, where does your mom cater from?” mingyu asks, brain elsewhere, mindlessly walking further into the kitchen which forces you to follow behind him. you were initially not going to go in there, but instead drag him back to where the boys were– you were following him like a lost puppy in your own house.
your mom pulled him into her conversation, introducing him to the rest of the moms, you watched as mingyu shook everyone’s hand wearing his infamous, perfect smile. mingyu didn’t shy away for a moment, instead he seemed eager to meet everyone– you seemed to forget mingyu is a man, and not only a thirty year old man, but a businessman. he doesn’t shy away from conversation or hide from it, he welcomes it, he knows how to do it. you wondered if it was just because he had eight years on you or if it was because these people are your people.
either way, it didn’t matter as you were inevitably pulled into the conversation, yeosang’s mom asking for the story of how you met. mingyu looked down at you, “can i tell the story?”
you nodded, you were sure the smile hadn’t left his face once. “she was out on a date already when we met, actually.”
yeosang and san’s mom both giggled after gasping at the same time, making mingyu chuckle with them. “scandalous– i know, but i couldn’t help it. she was touring the distillery i own, and i was smitten the moment i saw her. i gave her my business card instead of flat out giving her my number, i had to be inconspicuous.”
“you own a distillery?” yunho’s mom lifted a brow, leaning forward, making the wine in her glass rock side to side in its confines.
mingyu nods, “seventeen whiskey, if you’ve heard of it.”
“if i’ve heard of it– jongcheol! come here,” san’s mom calls across the room to the group of fathers, who were all standing in their own circle, glasses full of what you assumed was whiskey. “apologies, he loves that whiskey, i want him to meet you. mingyu, right?”
“kim mingyu,” he says with a nod, waving his hand in protest, “don’t apologize at all.”
as san’s parents pulled mingyu into conversation, you were left with the other moms who were staring at you expectantly. yeosang’s moms voice is hushed as she leans closer to you, “that’s a keeper, tiny.”
your smile is wide, because you know, and you’d do your very best to keep him.
“i always thought you’d end up with one of the boys,” your mom frowns for a second before it turns into a warm smile, “but i can’t lie and say he isn’t perfect for you, teens– better keep him far away from us.”
the three moms cackle in laughter, clinking their wine glasses with one another in agreement, probably already leaning toward tipsy. you laugh with them, attempting to not show your discomfort, not knowing what else to do in this situation– you needed a drink.
you walked towards your garage door off the side of the kitchen, all of the alcohol you and the boys drank was stocked in the fridge there, only whiskey and wine inside the house. when you pulled open the door, ace and yunho stood in front of the fridge with beers in hand, already in conversation. you could only hear the end of ace’s sentence, making out the words ‘i don’t like it’.
“don’t like what?” you asked as you stepped through the door frame, your back to them as you ripped open the refrigerator door. their heads snapped to you the moment you were through the threshold, quiet for a moment before ace answered.
“what the caterers are serving for dinner,” ace responds, him and yunho now standing side by side as you crack open a surfside.
“why are you talking about it in the garage? you okayed the menu when mom asked,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a sip from your can, putting your other hand on your hip.
“i changed my mind,” ace shrugged, “let’s go back in, it’s cold in here.”
your eyebrows furrowed as ace threw his arm around your shoulder, pushing you back inside the house. san, yeosang and vivi were all in the second living room with the TV, sat on the couches just as they were the other night– vivi on the farthest corner, the other two taking up their usual spots. ace and yunho sit where they usually do, whipping out their phones as soon as they sat down.
the whole interaction threw you off completely. they were in the living room, yet every ounce of you wanted to be in the kitchen with mingyu— yet you didn’t want to be in the kitchen with the parents at all. you shift your weight on your heels, an invisible string pulling you to your usual spot on the couch as you said, “i’m gonna go check on mingyu.”
you shook it off before you reached the kitchen, mingyu all but blending in with the dads, standing tall above the group of them. it makes you smile, it was amusing to see mingyu towering over several fifty year olds. you slip in the circle next to him, all the dads greet you, already telling you how great mingyu is— including matt, not that it mattered to you.
your smile is wide, confidence coming back to you– “thank you, i know.” you look up to mingyu, “i’ve been a terrible host, did you want a drink?”
mingyu nods, opening his mouth but you already knew what he was going to say, “we have macallan 18, family reserve bourbon, 15 i think, or yamazaki 18.”
he thinks for a second, taken aback by your knowledge, you actually asked matt for the information last night. he smiles in surprise, “the bourbon, can you pour–”
“neat, i know,” you wink, finishing his sentence again, escaping from the dad-circle to head to the bar off the side of your kitchen, in the corner of the dining room. you don’t realize mingyu follows you until you’re standing at the bar, back to him as he slips his hand around your waist, turning you around with ease.
you don't have any time to make a sound of surprise before his lips are pressed to yours, hastily slipping his tongue into your mouth with such force your hands move to the counter behind you to hold yourself up. you whine into the kiss, using your arms to give you leverage to push your chest into him, hands then breaking from the counter to reach up to his face.
“where’d this come from?” you break the kiss, keeping your face centimeters from his, releasing the breath he stole from you back into his mouth. it was hot– doing this in a corner of your house where you could easily be seen. this energy was new for mingyu, you weren’t used to him being so eager, so impatient, instead usually slow and controlled— you liked this attitude on him, the feeling that he couldn’t wait made you just as impatient.
his lips are on yours before answering, “that was so fucking sexy, you studied whiskey for me?”
you giggle into the kiss, that explains that, “i asked matt one question and he went on about what we have for probably ten minutes, he’s very proud of our collection.” your words are light and bubbly, a harsh contradiction to how mingyu’s lips traveled to your jaw, “i now know that the bourbon is from kentucky, it’s legendary, it’s flavor profile is caramel, oak and–”
“vanilla,” he finishes for you, pulling away from your neck to peck your lips again. “we talked about whiskey the entire time you were gone.”
“i’m sure you loved that,” you stare up into his eyes, rich, chocolate brown staring back at you, deeper than usual— hungry. you tilted your head, batting your eyelashes to egg him on further, “did i impress you?”
his groan was deep, coming from the depths of his lungs, quiet enough to not be heard outside of the room. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice lowering an octave, “if i could fuck you stupid against this bar i would.”
you gasped, eyebrows twisting, his words went straight to your core. he still wouldn’t sleep with you last night, instead insisting only you get off once again– you cursed under your breath, “you’re fucked up for saying that now when you had me under you last night.”
he backed up a step, his smirk devious, “i’ll have you under me again tonight, just say the word, princess.” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before looking past you, picking up the bottle of bourbon as if the interaction you just had didn’t affect him in the slightest. you looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth damn near watering– all you could think was finally, finally, finally.
he poured his own glass of whiskey instead, leaving you breathless and silent next to him, trying to push your desire down until you didn’t notice it anymore, which deemed itself impossible when the only thought in your head was what’s to come later. you heard your mom announcing dinner was ready from the kitchen, ruining your moment alone with mingyu entirely, and you walked into the kitchen with hot ears and a burning pit in your stomach.
everyone was already beginning to sit around the enormous table, long enough to fit the fifteen of you, caterers running about the kitchen with food on platters. the table was set with plates and silverware, glasses of water already filled, centerpieces extravagant and totally unnecessary— the stage was set perfectly, you were sure your mom was thrumming with pride.
you took your place where you always did, inviting mingyu to sit beside you instead of yunho who sat directly across from you. the table was always divided between the parents and the kids, husbands sitting with wives, but you, your siblings and your friends always sat at the other end of the table, always in the same seats. mingyu sat to your right, putting yeosang to your left, vivi beside him, then across from you was san, ace and yunho. mingyu sat beside san’s father, which you were sure wasn’t on purpose— the man immediately brought up how mingyu ran his company.
as you got settled in your seat, the others talking amongst one another and mingyu beside you in conversation, the unease returned as if it never left. you realized you had nowhere to run, there was nothing for you to do— no taking jackets from anyone else, no drinks to be fetched from the bar, no escaping to an entirely different room to avoid whatever you were scared of.
mingyu’s hand rested on your thigh as if he could read your thoughts, not even sparing you a glance from being mid-conversation with san’s dad— but somehow he knew, or he didn’t know and this is just who mingyu is. you rested your hand on top of his as your mom stood at the head of the table.
she made her speech, the same one as usual— you can choose friends but you can’t choose family, how lucky are we to have been able to choose our own family? you were sure the six of you could recite it by heart— as you looked to the other five seated around you and they silently said her speech verbatim, you had to cover your mouth to muffle the laugh that rose up in your throat.
the caterers came around much like waiters in your own house, filling up your plates one by one with entrees and sides from a menu your mom picked by hand.
“i need to know where she caters from,” mingyu leaned in close to your ear, nudging your arm with his own after taking his first bite, making you smile as you cut into your own food. “it’s not funny, i’m serious. i want to hire them.”
“ask her yourself,” you nudge back, moving your food around on your plate. you looked up as you brought your fork up to your mouth, ace was in the middle of saying something into yunho’s ear. you pointed your gaze at the taller one who caught your eye, he didn’t even react, dismissing you as if you hadn’t even made eye contact at all.
“stop telling secrets,” you say across the table, making yeosang’s ears perk up from beside you.
“share with the class,” yeosang backs you up, eyes also pointed at the two. ace shoots the same glare back at yeosang, which shuts him up entirely. it was getting too obvious now— you were itching to grill them about it.
“ace,” mingyu starts from beside you, ripping you from your thoughts, “your sister told me you’re a law student, right? where do you go to school?”
ace’s expression is blank, “uh, i go to lexford, studying corporate law.”
mingyu winks, “call me when you pass the bar, i might need you in the future.” he picks up another piece of his food with his fork, “i actually have a buddy who leads a seminar for something to do with corporate law— maybe ethics?”
a knowing smile sits on ace’s face as he leans forward on the table, body turning in mingyu’s direction, “tell me it’s jeon wonwoo.”
mingyu’s smile grows wider, “that’s him, you know him?”
“i’m taking his online seminar this semester,” ace nods as his entire face lights up, “incredibly smart guy, his seminar is like nothing else i’ve attended for, like, my entire career at lexford.”
mingyu laughs, “i’ll have to tell him, i’ll put in a good word.”
“wait, actually?” ace’s eyebrows shoot up, “i’m working on my thesis and an independent study with him would actually save my life.”
“he owes me a favor,” mingyu nods with a tight lipped smile, “i’ll see what i can do.”
your smile widens, you feel lighter, a weight lifted off of your shoulders from such a simple interaction. you’ve never cared about ace’s approval for anything, but for some reason it feels so good to see him bonding with your maybe-could-be-boyfriend.
the unease doesn’t fully go away, especially not when yunho began shooting daggers across the table, eyes cold as ice in a way you haven’t seen in ages, you weren’t sure if you or mingyu were on the receiving end. you shiver.
mingyu notices your physical reaction, his massive arm wrapping around your shoulders, palm rubbing your bicep in comfort. he leans into your ear, “you cold?”
“something like that,” you respond, a meek smile on your face. you wouldn’t call him out across the table, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle yunho’s brute honesty in front of the people who mattered most to you— if you had every person’s approval except for yunho, how much weight would his opinion hold?
dinner passed smoothly, mingyu was immersed in conversation with the parents while you talked to your friends, barely even speaking a word to one another unless he brought you into the other side of the table for conversation. you didn’t think anything of it until you were in your basement after dinner was over, the boys on the couch before the tv with controllers in hand, playing the game they were always playing. you felt like you had mingyu’s voice in your ear the entirety of dinner, and now he was silent.
“do you know the game they’re playing?” you ask him, cuddled into his side on the smaller couch off to the side, your skirt long forgotten. you replaced your outfit with sweats the moment all of the parents left through the front door– if your mom loves anything, it’s appearances.
“no idea,” he says, but his eyes are trained on the television, eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus. he leans his head onto yours, asking, “do you play with them?”
“hell no,” you giggle, “i have no interest in video games.”
“i play sometimes, just haven’t played this one,” he leans his head back, settling into the couch a little more, hand coming to rest on your thigh. the gears turn in your head, realization hitting you that the only thing mingyu had in common with any of your boys was the gym and ace’s professor, of all things.
mingyu had everything in common with the parents— a career first and foremost, their schedules, taxes. the gap is apparent and it’s huge, the thought feels sour in your stomach and you hate it. everything up until now had been perfect, you needed to dry off the rain on your parade before it turned to a downpour.
“wanna go upstairs?” you ask him directly in his ear, not that any of the boys could hear you with their incessant screaming at the game. he looks at you with eyebrows raised, a surprised look on his face, but he nods with no hesitation.
“we’re going up,” you announce to the room as you walk toward the staircase and all necks snap to look at you. the unease slithers back up your spine after you feel like it just left you, the hairs on your arms sticking up– in that moment you knew there was something they weren’t telling you, and all four boys are in on it this time.
your face contorts into something between confusion and alarm as san asks, “you don’t wanna hangout a while longer?”
your head turns, neck twisting in discomfort. you hesitate, not sounding completely sure of yourself as you respond, “it’s getting late, i want to watch my show.”
“are you staying over?” ace asks mingyu, chin jutting upward in question to where mingyu stood.
mingyu shrugs, head turning to you as he says, “if you’ll have me.”
you suck your lip between your teeth while nodding, and mingyu gives you a tight lipped smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. oh, you hate this and you need to fix it now. mingyu has been able to read you since the moment you met, you knew as soon as you stepped foot into your bedroom he’d be quizzing you. you bid the boys goodnight and head all the way up to your room, you were brainstorming the entire trudge there, only coming up with one thing to make this feeling go away– what he promised you earlier.
your room was on the opposite end of the hallway from ace, the guest room and a bathroom separating you, vivi’s room up in the attic– her choice. with your parents’ room on the first floor, you officially had nothing to stop you from jumping mingyu, no one to hear you. you were sure that everything would go back to normal after that.
“it’s so… clean,” mingyu says as you turn on the lamp beside your bed, filling the space with a dim warmth, white bed sheets turning a sunset orange under the amber hue.
“thank you,” you smile, closing your bedroom door, “it has to be that way or else i can’t sleep.”
he raises a brow, “really?”
you shake your head, “you have no idea. do you want a change of clothes? i can snag some from ace’s room, i think even yunho might’ve left some clothes in the guest room.”
he’s walking around your room, looking at all of your decorations, then his eyes glaze the picture frames on your desk. he looks over to you after a moment of silence, “yes, please, then we can talk about why that was so weird.”
your lips pull into a line– you hadn’t even gotten a chance to seduce him yet, fuck him and his developed frontal lobe. your feet drag into the guest room, thinking yunho’s clothes would fit him better than ace’s, even though ace’s build wasn’t too far off from either men.
before you even handed mingyu the pile of clothes, he was already reaching behind his head, slipping his shirt over his head. your breath hitches in your throat– finally, finally you were seeing what was hidden underneath, and being flabbergasted wasn’t enough to explain what mingyu was keeping beneath his shirt. honey, golden and chiseled, as if he were handcrafted by the gods themselves, your imagination couldn’t compare to the absolute perfection that was kim mingyu.
you cursed under your breath, eyes racking down his body from his collarbone to his belt, pile of clothes dropping to the floor and feet carrying you closer to him without a second thought. words come back to you as you shamelessly say, “i need my mouth on every inch of you.”
he laughs, a soft chuckle as you stand up on your tippy toes to reach his lips, your mind clear enough to realize that your plan was set back in motion. the kiss was dizzying, so deep and sensual it had your brain clouding up as he walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit your mattress.
he laid you back, massive frame hovering over yours as his lips met yours once again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you hooked your legs around his back as he fully crawled onto the bed, hands coming to the back of his neck to pull him closer.
he pulls back, still keeping his face close, “we need to talk, princess.”
“later,” you murmur, attaching your lips again, pulling him closer. your hand travels down his chest to his pants, fingers wisping over what was beneath them, wanting to feel him. he grows under your touch and lets out a groan, breaking the kiss to let his head hang, eyes screwed shut tight as you up the pressure.
“want you so bad,” you say in the sweetest voice as your hands go to his belt, and he actually lets you unbuckle it. all thoughts leave you as you pull the strip of leather from its loops, this was actually happening, and it was in your bedroom– somehow it made everything more intimate.
he curses as your hand reaches below his boxers after getting him unzipped with ease, strong arms still holding himself up beside your head. you moan as you finally feel him, you couldn’t hold it back, imagining what he’d feel like inside you, you needed to see him.
“let me taste you,” you whispered, more of an order than a question and he keels over, body rolling off of you.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” his voice is surprisingly wrecked as his back hits the mattress, hands folding beneath his head. your grin is wide at the idea of him obeying you, flipping over so easily after so long of denying you… the thought of what made him finally say yes crosses your mind.
“you’ll be just fine,” your excitement is clear as you pull his boxers down his thighs, watching in awe as his length springs up against his abdomen. a sight for sore eyes, pink and leaking, he was just as massive as he felt and as delicious as you’d imagined. your eyes widened, “so fucking big.”
between his legs you began with kitten licks to his tip, drinking up the droplets of precum he’d offered you with obligation. raw and unfiltered and so him, you moaned at the same time, music to your ears giving you the confidence to take him into your mouth fully. two hands around him with room to spare, you wondered if mingyu would fit inside you, he was definitely not fitting inside your mouth.
“fuck, you’re so good,” he groaned, keeping his voice low, his hands coming from the back of his head to pull your hair away from your face. as you created a rhythm, bobbing along his length with your mouth and hands moving in unison, his words came out staggered as he said, “just like that, princess.”
you loved mingyu’s praise, you loved his degradation, too– but hearing the words with your mouth wrapped around his cock was different. it urged you to work harder, to take him further, as if feeling his cum hitting the back of your throat would be more than a reward, more like a gift. you pumped him faster, hollowing out your cheeks just a little and he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth, cock hitting so deep you gagged. he moaned, really moaned, a higher pitch than what you’ve heard yet, and the wetness between your thighs grew tenfold.
his hands wrapped in your hair tightened, a harsh grip on your scalp as he said, “don’t fucking stop– ah, doing so fucking good for me, baby.”
your eyes screwed shut, fighting your gags hard as you pushed yourself further, no doubt bruising your throat just to hear him keep talking. as if he could hear your thoughts, he continued, “want me to cum down your pretty little throat?”
you could hear his smile as he taunts you, “bet you’d love that, been begging for my cock for days.”
you whimper, eyes opening with tears in your waterline, involuntarily swallowing around him. he lurches forward, eyebrows knitting in pleasure, voice dipping an octave, “fuck– fuck, do that again.”
you obeyed, constricting your throat around him again and his head falls back, his adam’s apple on display before it snaps forward again, “i’m gonna- gonna cum.”
his hands flee from your hair, and you know immediately it’s so you don’t feel pressured to take him down your throat, but you couldn’t imagine not being rewarded for your efforts. you gag around him again, the tightness of your throat finally pushing him over the edge and he spills, a quiet, long groan leaving his lips as ropes of white cum shoot down your throat, swallowing before even tasting him.
he curses as you lick him clean, popping off of him with a proud smile on your face. he chuckles before leaning forward, grabbing you by your armpits to pull your body atop his. he smiles before pecking your lips, “you’re so fucking perfect, so fucking perfect.”
you kiss him again and he embraces it, tongue slipping into your mouth without hesitation, nasty and messy and wet. you whimper, your cunt was throbbing– you could feel the wetness between your legs only growing, as if your body knew it was mingyu under you, knew you could be coming in minutes if he’d just slip his hand beneath your panties.
“you gonna be quiet for me?” he asks, hands coming up to keep your hair away from your face, cradling your cheeks. you nodded, bringing a hand on top of his, pulling it away from your cheek to press a kiss to his palm.
“i know you will, my good girl,” your body heats up at his words, threatening to let a moan slip from your lips without even being touched. he continues, his words stealing all the breath from your lungs, “sit on my face.”
“gyu,” you whine, keeping your voice hushed, “want you inside me already.”
“gotta open you up first, wanna taste you,” he says absent mindedly as his fingers go to your hoodie, pulling it up with your shirt and quickly slipping your sweatpants down your legs.
you don’t argue, but instead hesitate out of nerves– you pause, legs hovering over his chest, knees planted onto the mattress. you bite your lip, “i’ve never done this before.”
“you’ve never gotten head before?” his eyes shoot open, staring at you as if that was a crime.
“no!” your voice is louder than you intended it to be, quieting down again to say, “i’ve never sat on someone’s face before.”
“oh,” he says as if it was no big deal, then looks up at you again with an eyebrow lifted, “really?”
“mingyu,” you whine, “tell me what to do.”
“sit,” he says simply, and he doesn’t continue. that was his only instruction.
you blink at him, “and then what?”
he smiles wide, “and then i make you cum.”
his hands are on your hips before you can process it, pulling you down onto his face, the moment his tongue meets your folds you moan. wanton, lewd, it was long and loud.
“what’d i say?” he pulls away to scold you and you purse your lips, eyes widening as if you’d just gotten caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “as much as i want to listen to you, your entire family is in this house. be respectful.”
“no one’s on this floor, they can’t hear us,” you argue, but his tongue is back between your folds instead of answering you. your head falls forward and you moan quieter this time, no headboard for you to grab onto, your muscles already willing to give out.
he pulls you down onto his face harder and you mewl, he’s silently begging you to let go of control, let loose on his face – but you don’t know what you’re doing and you don’t want to crush his face between your thighs.
“relax,” he encourages from beneath you, voice soft and sweet, thumbs massaging circles into your hips. you relax your muscles, keeping most of your weight on your knees rather than on his face, focused more on doing than enjoying. he notices, hands traveling to your chest, flipping your bralette upward to get his hands on your breasts.
thumbs ghosting over perked nipples had you twitching, your hips grinding against his tongue and he smiled against you, using more pressure, taking the buds between his fingers to pinch. your hips bucked, clit sliding forward to bump against his nose and it seemed to crack open all sense of dignity with the way you released an unrestrained moan. noise after noise left your lips, without complaint from mingyu as you began to grind against him, gaining a rhythm now, hands coming up to grip at his wrists as the pit began forming in your stomach, quicker with each pass of his nose over your clit.
“that’s it, princess. use me,” he said into you, hot breath on your center, eyes completely glossed over and focused solely on you, the words sending all the blood in your body straight to your center, beckoning your orgasm to come faster. you quickened your pace, the sounds escaping you turning desperate and filthy as your hands came down to grip onto his hair, his tongue sticking outward so you can ride it.
it was new— this feeling of confidence, being in control, getting yourself off at your own pace. just a few weeks ago no one else had even made you finish, and here you were holding the reins. how far you’ve come.
“mingyu– i’m gonna cum,” you gasp out, shocking yourself with how utterly debauched you sounded, too far gone for embarrassment to wash over you. the pads of his fingers play with your buds as you bring yourself to orgasm, hips riding his face at a rhythm to send yourself over the edge, breath hitching in your throat as you finally feel it hit. like a train, a bus, a truck, shockwaves of pleasure rack through you that had your legs shaking around his head, hips twitching against his lips, head hanging forward with your eyes rolled back— mingyu was drinking it up.
arms hooking around your hips to keep you in place and his tongue flattening out to lick you up had you convulsing, whimpers flying from your lips as your orgasm fades to a muted throb and overstimulation takes over.
“mingyu.” your hands grip onto his hair again, hips that attempted to buck away from his face didn't have very far to go until strong arms pulled them back into position.
he finally gives you the space to come down, a comforting sigh leaving your lips on cue. his head hits the mattress, hair fucked and eyes glazed over, but his smile was victorious. “that was so hot, do it again.”
“i want to sit on your cock not your face,” you shimmy out of his grip and he lets you – much to your surprise – hips backing up to sit on his very bare thighs. his eyes drift from your center sitting inches away from his cock that was hard and leaking against his stomach again back up to your face, you were sure it was flushed and sweaty and gone by now.
“gimme a sec, let me grab a condom,” he says as he sits up, pecking your lips before scooping you from his lap onto your mattress.
“what makes you think i don’t have one?” you don’t, you know you don’t, but you tease him anyways as your head hits your pillows, positioning yourself so the two of you wouldn’t be sideways anymore– and now you have the headboard if you need it.
he turns back to you as he pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his pants, a knowing look on his face, “okay, do you have one?”
your lips purse, “no.”
his smile was comical, “thought so.”
he kneels between your legs after taking his pants off fully, ripping the packet open with his teeth, spitting the foil onto the bed beside your legs. you didn’t think a simple act could be so sexy, especially one as awkward as that, by this point it shouldn’t surprise you that mingyu could make anything hot. you unclasp your bra behind you and throw it to the floor, widening your legs further, excitement consuming you. you wanted him so bad, you were thrilled he didn’t wait any longer, you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore.
you gasp as he bends down to spit between your folds, hips bucking as he spreads it across your folds. he looks up to you, face turned serious, “if it hurts you need to tell me.”
“i will,” your voice was breathy, giving it away that you were here but not fully. growing impatient your eyes were trained on his cock, not even looking at him as you responded.
“hey, look at me,” he leans forward, arms caging you in, forcing you to pay attention as his build completely swallows you beneath him. “tell me if it hurts.”
“oh my god, i will,” you whine, legs hooking around his back– your mouth was near watering.
“spoiled,” he mutters as he lines himself up, tip so much as prodding at your entrance invoking a hiss from your lips. you curse as he pushes further, your eyes screwed shut in something between pain and pleasure, but you don’t say a word– you’d lose your mind if he stopped now.
“so tight– ah, gotta open up for me, baby,” his voice is strained, taking it slow as he inches forward, cock dragging against your walls at an agonizing pace. “fuck, knew i should’ve made you cum again.”
“keep going,” you encourage, moving your hips to meet his thrust, taking him further. the stretch was delicious– slightly painful, mingyu was bigger than anyone else you’d ever taken, thicker than anything that’s ever been inside you. it was worth it, so, so worth it as you feel every vein along your walls, hypnotizing you, dragging you under whatever spell he was casting.
when he pushed himself to the hilt he took a pause, giving you a moment to adjust, to get used to how big he felt inside you. you hummed, the burn along your entrance dimming to a flicker of heat. he felt perfect inside you, as if he was made to be there, as if your walls were already molded to his shape.
“move?” he asked, his right hand moving your hair out of your face before he cupped your cheek, you fed him a nod. he slipped out slowly, rocking his hips to push back in at a quicker pace– you moaned, the pain turning to pleasure as soon as he hit that spot.
“so fucking tight,” he said under his breath, voice rough and husky, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”
you moaned in response, back arching into him as he hit that spot again– it wasn’t by chance, his thrusts were precise, practiced, they were skilled. like everything else he’d done so far, mingyu knew exactly what to do to completely wreck you.
“holy fuck,” you cried, your moans growing in volume as he picked up the pace, rocking his hips as if it were a dance, movements so fluid you already considered yourself ruined for anyone else. no one could compare to this.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you, touch you, be close to you as he fucked you dumb– you needed everything all at once, his cock felt so good inside you it was almost overwhelming. he kisses you hard, lips messy and harsh and incredible, the perfect pair to his cock that was burying itself inside you with abandon.
“should’ve known you couldn’t be quiet,” he said, cocky tone to his voice as he broke the kiss, you could feel his smirk as it smeared across your wet lips, simultaneously offering you a particularly harsh thrust.
you yelped then through a broken moan you said, “it’s y–our fault, you fuck like a god.”
“you see why i wanted to wait, then,” he snickered as he sat up, long fingers wrapping around your ankles to place them on his shoulders. his hand fell to lay along your stomach, drilling himself inside you and you lost it, the back of your head pressing into your pillows, your last semblance of control gone.
he leans forward with your legs on his shoulders at a quick speed, hand moving from your stomach to clasp over your mouth and you whimper into his palm. his voice is breathless, “consequences of your own actions, brat.”
you cry out into his hand, noise muffled as he pistols inside you, hips stopping just before they can snap against your own, balls deep inside you and he had so much control. you wondered how he managed, you clearly had none after his cock had blatantly intoxicated you, you didn’t care if anyone heard you at this point.
he lets your mouth go, pulling out of you swiftly just to flip you over, hands scooping under your body as if you weighed nothing. you had no time to whine in protest as his palm pushes your head into the pillows, cock filling you right back up. you scream into the pillow as he reaches deeper, you feel him in your stomach.
“there we go,” you hear from behind you, his voice sounding too far away, “now you have no choice but to behave.”
he positions his cock to hit that same spot with the new angle, pressing against it with such precision and rhythm you felt the pit in your stomach returning in just two thrusts. your hand reaches beneath your body, between your legs that just slightly opened up between his thighs, rubbing quick circles into your clit.
“gonna cum already?” he sounds taunting behind you, hands squeezing your ass, spreading your cheeks so he could watch his cock relentlessly bully your cunt. it felt so fucking filthy but so hot— you rubbed your clit faster.
“go ahead baby, show me — cum around this cock,” you could hear the hint of desperation in his voice, he was close too. you couldn’t form words as your orgasm approached with force, thighs shaking between his own, shamelessly drooling into your pillows as incoherent babbles left your lips.
he gave your ass a harsh slap as his cock carved into you and it was enough to push you over the edge, burying your face in your pillows as everything clenched. he grunted, his voice strained as he attempted to be quiet himself — “f-fuck, yes, that’s it.”
your orgasm was so long and so intense, he fucked you through it, losing his control as his hips finally clapped into the cheeks of your ass, chasing his own high. you turned your head, catching your breath, sounding as fucked out as you probably looked as you said, “cum for me, gyu, wish you were filling me up.”
he gasped, splitting you in half as he brought himself to orgasm, stilling inside you with a moan as he unloaded into the condom. you wore a weak smile — you weren’t lying, the only thing you could think was that you wish you could feel the warmth, the fullness of him coming inside. it seemed he wished the same with how quickly he finished after you said it.
“i hope no one heard,” was the first thing out of his mouth as he slowly pulled out, you whimpered at the loss — you were positive you’d never feel that full again.
“it’s fine,” your voice was raw, too tired and too spent to turn over. you felt him slide off the bed, watched as he tied up the condom and threw it in the trash, smiled as he picked up yunho’s sweatpants from the floor.
“you okay? need water or anything?” he asked as he pulled them up his legs — you were right, the sweatpants fit him perfectly.
“water,” you mumbled, your pupils still the only thing moving, watching him silently as he reached for your water bottle that sat on your desk.
he joined you back in bed, scooping you up in his arms to place you on his front, holding the water bottle in front of your face so you could drink from the straw.
“did i break you?” he asked, amusement lacing his words, you could hear his thoughts— you still felt somewhere else entirely, definitely not in your room with a drool covered cheek on his bare chest.
you hummed in response, eyes falling shut. you laid like that for awhile, cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he mindlessly played with your hair, fingers scratching at your scalp.
“come back to me, i’m getting nervous,” he said after some time, his heartbeat quickening with his words.
“i’m okay, still processing,” your voice was light, hopefully comforting, “you just fucked my brains out, just wanna lay like this.”
his chuckle was deep from his chest, flat against your ear as his hands moved to your bare back, tracing circles along your skin. he sighed — “let me clean you up, put some clothes on you, then we’ll get back in bed and put on your show.”
you whined, but agreed nonetheless, the air of your bedroom turned cold against your skin that was quickly losing its heat. you had never been more grateful for a bathroom attached to your bedroom as you were right now, a shirtless mingyu running you a bath, sitting on the tiled floor as you soaked in the warmth of the water. you talked the whole time, about the sex, about your likes and dislikes, the conversation was open and honest. you wouldn’t expect mingyu to be a kinky guy, and he wasn’t beside his slightly dominating nature.
he didn’t consider himself inherently dominant, it wasn’t a trait he had across the board, only something that came out of him with you. you didn’t know if you were naturally submissive or if it was something that just came out with him— you were still exploring sexually, you opened up about your past with frat guys, how someone else just made you cum for the first time mere weeks ago. he took it all in with open arms and zero judgement, he told you that you should never be with someone who didn’t care about your needs, didn’t respect you enough to get you off, too.
the bath brought you back to reality, but your talk with mingyu brought you down to earth. it still amazed you how easily the two of you communicated, how comfortable it is to share things with him that you would only share with the other boys, if not more. he carried you back to your bed bridal style— he insisted, he also insisted on pulling pajama pants up your legs, an oversized tee shirt over your head.
“brookhaven college? you go to crest university, don’t you?” he asked as he pulled the cotton over your head, reading the print across the front.
you looked down at the shirt then back up to him, “this is yunho’s, i don’t know how it made its way into my laundry, must’ve gotten confused with the clothes he keeps here.”
“ah, the tall and broody one?” he questions as you both crawl into your bed, settling beneath your comforter.
“he’s not usually brooding, i don’t know what was up with him tonight,” you say through a yawn, cuddling into mingyu’s armpit, laying your head on his bare chest again.
he was silent for a moment before he asked, “have you ever had a… thing with any of them?”
you picked your head up from his chest, staring at him with a shocked and disgusted look plastered across your face. “never ask me that question again, hell no.”
he raised an eyebrow. “i’ll ask a different one then — have they ever liked you? crushes on each other growing up, anything of the sort?”
“mingyu, they are the last humans on earth you need to worry about, they’re all extensions of ace to me. other brothers,” you said, your face completely serious. “they’ve never looked at me like that, i will never look at them like that, period.”
he pauses again — “alright.”
he didn’t fully believe you, that much was clear, but there was no way to prove your innocence or your honesty, so you let it go. instead you reached for the TV remote and turned on your show, getting comfortable on mingyu’s skin once again, letting the topic of conversation leave you both fully.
one of the couples in the show was in the midst of marital issues: she had gotten married young, divorced early into her marriage, remarried someone else and had kids just for her ex husband to come back into her life later on, leaving her conflicted.
being someone who speaks over every show or movie on a screen, you blabbed, irritation in your tone. “if she had just waited to marry him, this never would’ve happened in the first place.”
“i disagree.” you looked at him with eyebrows raised, silently telling him to explain. “i think everything happens for a reason, she learned so much about herself and what she wants through her second marriage— filling in all the gaps that she was missing with her first husband. he’s a learning experience.”
you contemplated it, “she could’ve learned all those things with him if she had just taken her time and not rushed it, she went through so much shit just to be back at square one.”
“but then she wouldn’t have her kids,” mingyu argued, “even if she married him down the line, they wouldn’t have grown as individuals. all the things she’s learned are because of her second husband.”
“so you think she was right in divorcing him?” you popped a brow, leaning off his chest to stare at him, “even though they were perfect together and came back to each other anyways.”
“i think they came back to each other because they were meant to be,” his eyes were trained on the TV at the end of your bed, “it wasn’t their time yet, there was more the both of them needed to learn before they could have a healthy relationship without regrets.”
he took a pause before he continued, looking at you now, “she reminds me of my ex-fiancée.”
you sat up, shock written all over your face, “you were engaged?”
he sighed, sliding his body up your pillows so he was sitting up a little straighter, “when i was twenty five, i popped the question after four years of dating. she was with me through some of the darkest parts of my life, i popped the question when i finally came out of everything, when i was stable again.”
“we were engaged for a year until she broke it off,” he shrugged, “said she was too young, she wasn’t ready even though we were both twenty six.”
you blink at him — “so the woman in the show reminds you of her, and you think the couple were meant to come back together after they both remarried.”
you could hear the gears turning in his head before his eyes widened. “do not think too deeply into that, it’s just a coincidence. our first disagreement is not about to be over a netflix original.”
your arms cross over your chest, voice coming off stern. “maybe we should talk about it, because why would you even say that to me?”
his eyes close, lips forming a thin line. “i had to tell you eventually, it’s been four years since we broke things off and i’ve dated plenty of women since i was with her. i am fully healed from that relationship, she lives across the country with her husband now.”
his words sit with you, and not in a comforting way. “are you looking to get married? like, soon…?”
he looks at you as if he could see through you. “you’re twenty two, my love, i’m not rushing anything with you. i’ll get married when it’s right.”
his words were supposed to make you feel better but they don’t— mingyu was ready to get married five years ago. he could’ve had a family by now, three kids and a dog if he wanted to. you hadn’t even graduated yet, you hadn’t even began student teaching— you had years to go before you’d be ready to have a ring around your finger, even if that was the goal eventually. you didn’t want to hold him back.
mingyu could feel your shift in mood, feel your uneasiness, within moments he was pulling you in close, lips catching your own, freeing you from your thoughts. it took little to no time until he was rocking into you again, bodies pressed against each other, tongue licking into your mouth until he made you forget what you were feeling entirely.
the thoughts didn’t come back until you were tangled in each other, sweaty and half asleep with your blankets half covering your bodies. you tried to push them away, turn your brain off but you couldn’t.
all you wanted was a boyfriend for thanksgiving — kim mingyu wanted a wife.
8fd masterlist | masterlist
tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00
#8fd#8 first dates#kim mingyu#kim mingyu x reader#kim mingyu x you#kim mingyu x y/n#kim mingyu smut#mingyu x you#mingyu smut#mingyu#mingyu x reader#svt smut#svt x reader#svt au#svt x you#svt#ateez x reader#ateez au#ateez#seventeen au#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen
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Slick Sunday post for @lexirosewrites !! I decided to just post it like this since this is probably going to be long. I do promise it has christmas in it but there’s a build up to that. Also very minor TW for child abuse. It’s less than a sentence but still. And also, this is canon up till s4, I don’t really know how different it is, the important thing is that Chrissy lived and Eddie didn’t get eaten as much as he does in canon.
—————
It starts in 1987. It’s late November, Steve has unofficially taken over his house since he hasn’t spoken to his parents in so long he doesn’t even remember. Eddie and Robin are over helping him decorate their tree. They’re all wearing ugly sweaters and pajamas. Steve and Eddie had just started officially courting, while Robin and Chrissy were still dancing around each other. She was in the middle of lamenting her latest failed attempt to ask her out when the front door opens and the Harringtons enter. A fight breaks out pretty quickly and it culminates in a few smashed ornaments, Steve getting slapped, Eddie being literally sat on by Robin to keep him calm, and Steve being told his things needed to be gone by the next day. He’s told that his behavior is not that of a Harrington.
And then they’re gone.
Eddie forces Robin off of him so he can hold Steve, and she goes to call Hopper. He and Steve had been close before Starcourt and since he came back last year they’re reconnected. (Steve calls him dad behind his back, he’s too scared to say it to Hop’s face yet.)
Hop shows up a few minutes later, only to be followed by one very angry Claudia Henderson. She explains that El had called Dustin on the walkie about the phone call she overheard and Claudia left right away.
They both start helping him pack once they know he’s okay and they all go to Hop’s cabin for dinner. While they’re eating Steve casually mentions that he wants to change his name. What he thought would be a casual comment with little fanfare resulted in Claudia baring her teeth at Hop as they argued over who got to bring Steve into their family officially. It would be scarier if Steve wasn’t ready to cry from how loved it makes him feel. He does eventually have to burst their bubble and tell them he wants to be a Buckley. This does get Hop and Claudia to calm down but it also gets Steve tackled off his chair by Robin in a hug.
Fast forward, it’s now the mid 90s. Chrissy and Robin live in the brownstone next to Eddie and Steve in Chicago. Steve and Eddie got married two years ago and earlier that fall they had learned Steve was pregnant. They had so far only told Robin and Chrissy, but that was because Steve was at home while Eddie was at work and he begged Robin to come with him to buy tests. Both Eddie and Steve knew it was time to tell everyone else, since he had just finished the first trimester and with christmas coming up they decided to go with the most cliche announcement possible.
The four of them go back to Hawkins for the holidays. Robin and Chrissy are staying at the Buckley’s and Eddie and Steve are staying at Hop’s cabin.
The first person they tell is Wayne. They have dinner with him for christmas eve and then over dessert exchange presents. Eddie gets a new set of steel toed boots and Steve gets a new coat. Then they hand Wayne his gift and Eddie grabs their camcorder to record his reaction. Inside is a new baseball hat placed upside down with something balled up inside it. Wayne takes the cloth out and flips the hat around, freezing as he reads it, then quickly dropping it and picking up what is now clearly a onesie. In bold letters the onesie says ‘Grandpa’s Fishin’ Buddy’. The hat says ‘Grandpa is my name, Fishing is my game’. Wayne, still gripping the onesie in his hands looks up at them with wet eyes.
“Is this… I’m gonna be a grandpa?”
Eddie can’t stop smiling behind the camera and he turns it slightly to catch Steve as he smiles at Wayne, giving little jazz hands as he says, “surprise.”
Eddie just barely pans back to Wayne to catch him standing up to pull Steve into a hug.
“I’m so happy for you two. Ed, you better put that thing down and get in here.”
———
The next people they tell are the Henderson’s. While Dustin will also be at Hop’s that night, Steve had wanted to be able to see his mom for christmas so for years they had been doing brunch at the Henderson’s before the three guys go to Hop’s and Claudia goes to get some extra hours working at the hospital.
They show up right on time with their gifts and enjoy breakfast before it’s present time. Dustin gets the new Dungeons and Dragons book that had just come out and a new set of dice that looked like the night sky. Steve gets a new cookbook and a scarf. Eddie gets a scarf as well as a new toolbox for work. Then Steve hands over the gift bag to Claudia, but before she opens it he turns to Dustin while Eddie gets the camcorder again.
“Dustin, I need you to promise me, right now, that what you see right now will not be told to anyone today. Got it?”
Dustin rolls his eyes as he responds, “Dude, it’s just a gift-“
“Dustin. Promise me,” Steve interjects.
After they stare at each other for another 30 seconds Dustin gives a dramatic sigh and promises. With that done Steve gives Claudia the okay to open her gift. She takes out the tissue paper and pulls a folded up sweatshirt and a folded canvas bag out. The bag is unfolded first and Claudia gasps, quickly unfolding the sweater and then dropping them both to rush over to hug Steve.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you! My baby!” Claudia is crying as she and Steve hold each other tight, Steve laughing with pure joy. Eddie catches Dustin standing up out of the corner of his eye and refocuses the camera on him, following him as he goes over and picks up the items his mom dropped. The bag says ‘Grandma’s Magic Bag’ and the sweatshirt says ‘World’s Best Grandma’. Dustin stares at them and then he’s shouting.
“You guys are having a pup?!”
Eddie just grins at him over the camera as he asks, “You ready to be Uncle Dustin?” Eddie then barely keeps the camera from breaking as Dustin rushes him in a hug.
———-
Their final present is that evening at Hop’s. Steve is drinking hot cider and curled into Eddie’s side on the couch, Robin right next to him with a hand on his ankle, Chrissy on her other side laughing as Max shares a story about college. Steve looks around the room and sees Dustin already staring at him, practically vibrating in his seat. It’s clear that he’s doing his best to not spill the beans so Steve huffs a laugh and claps to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, present time?”
The next minute or so is a rush of movement as everyone finds a spot and grabs their gifts, Steve holding tight to his gift for Hop. Eddie had El help him hide the camera earlier so she can turn it on without giving anything away.
Presents are passed around and opened. Max gave Steve a new poster for his classroom, and Robin got him the fancy desk organizer set he had been looking at for months. Mike got Eddie new patches for his work coveralls and Will gave them a beautiful painted version of their wedding photo. (Steve does tear up over it but tries to cover up as best he can, stupid pup hormones).
Then Steve stands and hands Hop his bag, giving El a wink as he walks past her and he sees her squint her eyes for a breath before giving him a wink back. Steve settles back in to Eddie’s side and gives Hop the go ahead. He pulls out what is clearly a mug wrapped in tissue paper with a hat stuffed into it. Hop takes the hat out first and looks at it, his face unreadable, before he sets it down with the words hidden. He quickly takes off the tissue paper and reads the mug. His face is still blank but everyone can see his eyes filling with tears as he makes eye contact with Steve.
Eddie gives Steve a little nudge and that’s all it takes for him to get up and go hug his dad, being wrapped up in his arms as Hop cries. After a beat where it’s still silent Hop speaks, looking over at Eddie. “Years ago, I thought I would never get to be a grandpa.” Steve just hugs him tighter and the room around them erupts as everyone starts screaming. Eddie gets dog piled by the boys, excluding Dustin who has collapsed on the floor from the relief of not having to hide that anymore. Steve feels two people wrap around him from behind and glancing at their arms he sees that it’s El and Max, both hugging him. When everyone has calmed more Steve goes back to sit with Eddie, who can now place his hand on Steve’s stomach. Hop sits down and finally shows everyone his gifts. The mug has a sheriff’s badge and it says ‘Chief Gramps’ and the hat says ‘Professional Grandpop’. Hop puts it on his head that night and refuses to take it off.
———————
Et viola. Also, this is Wayne’s hat because I love it so much:
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#platonic stobin#robin buckley#GRANDPARENTS GIFTS!!!#my beliefs on the names for all the grandparents:#wayne is gramp or grandpa claudia is grammy and hopper is grandpop or papa#also steve does change his name again when he and eddie get married but he gives himself another middle name so he can keep buckley#eddie knew that steve needed robin when he first says he wants to change his name which is why he doesn’t offer up munson#steve’s parents dont know about the name change and they only find out when they get a christmas card in the mail the following year#it has no return address and only says ‘the munsons’ so they cant be easily looked up#eddie tells hop and wayne about the card and they both laugh so hard they nearly choke#robin is also 1000% loving that decision
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A cozy evening, wine and a kiss
rosquez reconsilation fluff
21.12 winter writing
Vale knew he had been lucky in life.
He had managed to get a the top of his beloved sport for years. He had carved his name in the history books, never to be forgotten. He had gone done as a legend.
Most of it was hard work. Some of it was a coincidence and a good chunk was just an insane amount of luck. He had been at the right time at the right place to say the right thing.
But no amount of luck could explain how he ended up here.
He was sat in his own living room, a big house, in Italy. Still it was cozy and soft.
It was a calm winter evening. Christmas was almost there. He would soon dive back into the Christmas hazzle of preparation. It was cold enough that he refused to go outside if it could be avoided.
But right now there was no cold. And it wasn't just the fire that was crackling in the background of the barely lit room. The flames were dancing in a secret rhythm. He could see the flickering but he didn't care.
Instead he was too focused on the reason why there was a warmth in his heart and his whole body. It felt like his organs had been wrapped in the softest blanket imagineable. It was a feeling he was willing to chase for the rest of his life.
He looked at him - the reason. The reason for everything. The reason for his happiness, his insanity, his sadness, his hate, his love, his luck, his believe in love and a god and everything good.
Marc.
Not Marquez. Not the ant. Not a racer.
Just Marc.
And he wanted to do anything to make Marc his Marc again. He wanted to be greedy and just take. He wanted to take until there was nothing left to grip.
But he didn't want that. It felt too forcefully, too much anger, too much of the things he banned to the past. He didn't want to prove anything.
He wanted to give in. He wanted to lean in his touch and make him take everything he wanted. He was willing to give him anything and more.
He looked at him.
Marc sat next to him, in a chair that had a slight ankle to it so they were slightly facing each other.
His eyes were shining, reflecting the flames of the fire. He was speaking. Something about Shira and Stitch. Vale was too fascinated on his voice to actually hear him say a word.
He was holding a glass of wine in hand. His delicate finger were placed on the glass. His thumb pressed against the curve, his pointy finger softly wrapped against it.
He looked gorgeous.
His other hand was resting on his own thigh. Sometimes he lifted it to underline with words with gestures.
Vale nodded along, agreeing, asking question. He would do anything to keep him talking. He just wanted to keep him here, at his side, as long as possible.
They already had dinner together. Vale had cooked. It was the perfect date. And Marc did notice all the thoughtfull gestures and little thing the older man had remembered to make it as perfect as it had been.
It had been their first date. Not just their first date after everything went down, but their first real date. Vale wanted to do it right this time and it showed.
But now Marc saw Vale's soft gaze slightly unfocused. He looked like he was fixed on him but not in a predatory way. Not like it used to.
He looked at him in a way he had never seen before. Like he was everything. Like he was the sun and the moon and everything else.
He giggled softly at that thought and decided to be brave. He leaned over and whispered. "You're staring Vale"
"I know" he replied. His voice held no emotions other than honesty and love, careful bleeding through, as if he wasn't sure if it was okay. "You are very handsome. The most gorgeous man I've ever seen. How could I not watch your every move?"
"You're being very sweet tonight... I like that" he had been thinking about a more sassy comeback, one that borders on being rude. But he didn't. He didn't want to destroy this moment.
He could test the limit later. In a few weeks or months when they stood more firmly. And he was sure this later would come sooner or later.
"So, sweet Vale... Tell me what you want. What do you wish for?" he asked and leaned in some more. His arms were stabilizing him on his chair. He crossed the short distance between them almost completly.
There were still a few centimeters, but not much.
"I... Nothing. I'm happy to have you here." "I know but I also know that there is something else that you want." he said teasingly, because after all he still knew him.
"Maybe but that doesn't matter now. You're drunk. I'm not-" "You promised me honesty. I'm asking you what you want. Right now. I'm not saying I'm going to give it to you. I'm not drunk, Vale. Slightly typsy at most. So please..."
He put his hand on his face. He felt his cheeks for the first time in years. He felt his stubbles against his hand. He looked at him. He noticed all the signs that time had passed, all the little detail were time carved it away through them.
He looked at him and didn't saw the man that used to hurt him. He saw someone else. Someone he would trust. Someone he could love again.
"Please talk to me, Vale. Talk to me" he said and felt the older man leaning into his touch. "You are so beautiful" he replied. "You already said that." "It's true. You are so beautiful. It drives me crazy. I just want to kiss you again. Just once. But I don't want to rush this. I want to make it right. I want to make up for everything and show you how much you mean to me"
Marc smiled and nodded. He accepted.
"If you're afraid it's to soon for you to kiss me, I'll kiss you" he offered and before he got an answer he leaned in.
He kissed him.
It was one of the few things he did slowly, without going in head first. He was careful, soft, no demand, just looking for how it would go.
And he met Vale as he did. His Vale. The real Vale.
He felt how careful he moved his head to make it easier for him to kiss him. He was making things easier nit harder.
He felt his dry lips against his own and didn't mind. He felt his skin heating up at every movement and just grinned.
He was happy.
He had his Vale back. And Vale had his Marc back.
based on this
#dear anon that requested this in the first place - I really hope you see this and it was what you were hoping for#Or at least comes close to it#dear ghost if you read this I hope it helped sheer you up#motogp#marc marquez#valentino rossi#ray's writing#motogp rpf#rosquez#winter writing#winter writing challenge
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❛ Tell me how you did that. ❜ (for Nat)
From: ❝𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞❞ rp meme
"Mm, by moving that cylinder to the left and stabilizing the mount..."
She spoke with an enthusiasm rarely witnessed beyond the reception of unspeakable horrors, beautiful women and smokin' hot "villainry."
Before them both lay a monstrous, mechanical myriad of "divine punishment." Judgment day, if it had propellers. A behemoth of a vessel, armed to its metaphorical teeth - though, literal teeth could be a fun little addition. Even still in the making, it truly was a masterpiece.
As was the vast crater now bored into the mountainside hundreds of yards away...
"NATASH."
"... Works like a charm, now.~"
If one looked closely, they could not only hear, but see the captain; his particularly rotund, striped bottom gracefully poised before the heavens. He was "face down, ass up," as they say. Eventually finding whatever brand of cajones he needed to lift himself off the ground, he spun around, hard-favored face ruddy as his boots. He was coming.
"YOU IMBECILE."
It was surprising how fast a man of his constitution could move, actually...
#🌠 Ashe Anon | RP 🌎#📚📖 🌌#godsrondo#shoot Big gun#just tested out a giant freaking turret#“tested”#“tested” just a little to the left of Borghen#more like#“tested” if he knew how to “dance”#(he's fine)#(it's just his ego)#(it'll heal)#(maybe)#let the Borghen bullying begin...
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There is a lot happening right now, but the authorial decision to relay this to the reader by putting Song Taewon, Han Yoojin, and Sung Hyunjae alone in a room together had to have been The most chaotic way to go about it.
Case and point: Song Taewon heard 'possibility of double suicide' and didn't think twice. Sung Hyunjae is lovingly feeding them personally baked goods while nearly actually vibrating with the desire to absolutely murder both of them. Han Yoojin - the man who walked into this building prepared to blow it up with a bomb as an expression of disgruntlement - is currently the acting voice of reason as he desperately tries to referee this shit with a gun.
Some highlights:
SHJ: I'm still trying to decide if I should kill you.
HYJ: *oh free juice!* Officer Song, sit down please, he said he's still thinking about it.
---
STW&SHJ: *very literary showdown scene, very dramatic**you who are better than I at stripping away the monster and swallowing it whole-* *pst use looting* *pst I got it*
HYJ, in background: *staring into camera like he's on the office are you seeing this shit*
--
HYJ: You know you could die, right?
STW: I'm fine with that.
HYJ: Of course you are.
---
HYJ: WILL YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP NO ONE IS DYING THIS TIME
---
STW:
STW: why
STW:
STW: why is there a child?
---
HYJ: okay but hear me out...
HYJ: what if you could kill me?
#suicide tw#sctir spoilers#301-310#reading sctir mtl i don't know what's happening#this chapter is actually pretty hard to understand but I think I got the gist well enough#a lot of serious things got covered that I'm not fully touching on yet (prereg stw and shj holy shit)#but I think I need more context or a better translation before I really want to dive into that#the humor on the other hand...#also shj in an apron and the constant feeding of whoever will take food from him as all this plays out like why are they like this#this definitely gives some horror movie vibes to shj interactions before this and after the dungeon though#his fight with stw?#how long it took him to start to the point even stw noticed. his odd holding back in the first opening disguised as teasing#(testing himself?)#how quickly he left mid-fight#increasingly drifting into the background while in Japan#dancing around being alone with yoojin or even focusing on him too much#like we knew something was off but not THIS off#man's self control is through the roof
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nerdy!choso who was sick of letting you walk around, doing whatever you pleased. the day you asked him to be your tutor was when his whole world flipped upside down. him? tutor the most popular girl in school??
it was okay at first, but somewhere along the line your saturday study sessions turned into saturday fuck sessions. you were his first which wasn’t surprising. choso was the school’s number one nerd, and sure he was hot but no girl dared to associate with him let alone fuck him.
but you were different in so many ways, you treated him like fragile glass that you knew better than to break. you liked to test him sometimes though, just to see if he’d drop the innocent boy act. usually your schemes never worked but this time, he’d had enough.
“this what you wanted fuckin’ stuck up brat?” choso chuckled darkly, anger radiating off him in waves. large hands struck down, bruising the skin of your ass for the 10th time.
he had you bent over his lap counting every spank and if you missed even a single one, he’d get a belt.
one look at him had your body quivering, his head was tilted and hair messy as his eyes pierced yours. “thought it was cute to stop sharing your location wimme’ huh mama?”
you shook your head which earned nothing but a chuckle from him. rough fingers danced around your clit, flicking it back and forth despite your overstimulation.
a sharp pain had you whimpering, it was only then you realized what was going on. choso sunk his teeth into your cheek with no intentions of stopping until the mark of his teeth was visible.
“how about i start spanking this pretty pussy next?” he smiled when you waved your ass around in anticipation, his greedy greedy girl. “nah.. think ‘m gonna fill her up instead. maybe then you’ll stop fuckin’ playing with me,”
no way this was your same nerdy!choso from before…
©rissouu 2024 (pls i need a choso in my life)..
#malora’s works!#ummmm idk if i like this#but oh well#choso x reader#choso kamo smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen choso kamo#choso kamo x reader smut#choso smut#choso kamo x chubby reader#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#nerd!choso#nerd!choso x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#nerd!jjk#possessive choso#chubby reader#anime smut#choso kamo#choso kamo fluff#choso fluff
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A Different Kind of Training
Summary: When sparring with Logan turns into something more.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: sparring, cursing, mentions of alcohol, teasing, flirting, kissing, making out, tit sucking, fingering, heavy petting, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, knife play? (the claws come out), use of Y/N, pet names (baby, bub, darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!
Word Count: 2.8k
Mars speaks… Two fics in one day? What can I say, I’m a sucker for writing (and Logan Howlett). I originally wasn’t gonna write smut for this but I locked in and nearly 1.4k words of smut later, I’m happy with how it turned out! I was imagining Logan in X-Men but this gif is too hot not to use.
Masterlist
The sun was setting over Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, casting a warm, golden light through the large windows of the gym. The usual buzz of activity had quieted down, leaving you alone to get in some extra training. The silence was almost calming, a rare moment of peace after everything that had happened over the past few days.
You were lost in your thoughts, practising your kicks against a heavy bag, when the door creaked open. Without needing to look, you knew who it was. There was only one person who could move so silently yet make his presence known so effortlessly.
“Looks like someone’s been working hard,” Logan’s gruff voice came from behind you, a teasing edge to it. You could practically hear the smirk in his tone.
You turned, arching an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “Just trying to stay sharp. Didn’t expect you to drop in. Thought you’d be nursing a beer somewhere.”
He shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Beer can wait. Figured you could use some real training instead of beating up that bag.”
You couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, so you’re volunteering to be my punching bag?”
Logan pushed off the wall and strolled toward you, his movements fluid and controlled. There was always something captivating about the way he moved—like a predator, always aware of his surroundings, always ready to strike.
“Something like that,” he said, his voice low as he came to a stop a few feet from you. “If you think you can handle it, bub.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Big words, Wolverine. Hope you can back them up.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “Guess we’ll find out.”
The session began as it always did—circling each other, testing the waters with light jabs and quick footwork. But there was an underlying tension tonight, more than usual. Maybe it was the way Logan’s eyes kept straying to your lips, or the way your heart raced every time he got close.
“You’re getting slow, old man,” you teased as you dodged a punch and spun away, landing a light tap on his shoulder.
Logan’s lips curled into a smirk. “And you’re getting cocky. Might have to teach you a lesson.”
His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you both just stood there, staring at each other. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, you both lunged forward, fists flying in a blur of motion.
The sparring intensified, the lighthearted banter replaced by focused determination. But even as you fought, there was a spark of playfulness, a dance of words and movements that only the two of you shared.
“Is that all you’ve got, bub?” Logan grunted as he blocked a kick and spun you around, his grip on your arm firm but not painful.
You twisted out of his hold, a sly smile on your lips. “Wouldn’t want to hurt your ego too much, Wolvie.”
His laughter was low and genuine, and it made something warm unfurl in your chest. Logan was a hard man, but moments like these—when he let his guard down, even just a little—made you feel like you were seeing the real him. The one beneath all the gruff exterior and adamantium claws.
As the session continued, you found yourself pushing harder, testing his limits just as much as your own. Each time he got close, you felt the heat of his body, the brush of his skin against yours, and it was becoming harder to focus on the fight and not on how much you wanted him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of back-and-forth, you saw your opening. With a quick feint, you managed to sweep Logan’s legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the mat with a surprised grunt.
You didn’t waste a second, straddling him and pinning him down with a triumphant grin. “Looks like I’ve got you.”
Logan looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense, but there was a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Seems so. What’s your plan now, darlin’?”
The way he said “darlin’” sent a jolt through you, and suddenly the playful atmosphere shifted into something heavier, more charged. You leaned in closer, your faces just inches apart, your breath mingling with his.
“Maybe I’ll make you beg for mercy,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.
Logan’s lips curled into a slow, wicked grin, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “Or maybe I’ll turn the tables on you.”
The challenge in his voice was clear, and you felt your pulse quicken in response. But before you could think of a retort, Logan’s grip tightened, and with a swift, effortless movement, he flipped you over, reversing your positions so that he was the one hovering over you.
“Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, but his eyes were soft as they searched your face. He wasn’t pinning you down, not really—there was still room for you to escape, but neither of you made a move to do so.
The tension between you was palpable now, crackling in the air like electricity. Logan’s gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, as if asking permission. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, but you gave a small nod, unable to find your voice.
That was all the encouragement Logan needed. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as fierce as it was gentle. It was like everything that had been building between you two—the banter, the flirting, the unspoken tension—was pouring out into that one kiss.
You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in each other.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Logan’s eyes were still closed, his grip on your hip gentle but firm as if he didn’t want to let you go, while his other hand was on the floor, positioned next to your head.
He leaned down to lay passionate but gentle kisses against your neck.
You bit your lip, suppressing the almost vile moan that was on the tip of your tongue, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. “I’ve been waiting for you to make the first move.”
Logan chuckled, raising his head to look at you. “Guess I’m not as patient as I thought.”
You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. “Guess not.”
The mood between you had shifted, the playful teasing giving way to something deeper, something more intimate. You felt a connection with Logan that you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully acknowledge before, and now that it was out in the open, it felt right.
“So, what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s eyes darkened with a new intensity, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “How about we take this workout somewhere more private? I’ve got a few ideas on how to… optimise our training.”
A shiver ran down your spine at the suggestive tone in his voice. “Lead the way,” you murmured, your heart pounding with anticipation.
Logan smirked, pulling back just enough to help you to your feet. But before you could move, he captured your lips in another heated kiss, this one more urgent, more demanding. It left you breathless, your knees weak as you clung to him for support.
When he finally released you, there was a hunger in his eyes that mirrored your own. Without another word, he took your hand and led you out of the gym, his pace quick and determined. The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside, but you barely noticed, too focused on the man beside you.
Logan’s room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The air was filled with a quiet intensity as you both entered, the door closing behind you with a soft click.
Logan’s gaze was fixed on you, his eyes dark with an unspoken promise. He stepped closer, his rough hands finding your waist, pulling you gently towards him. The world outside seemed to fade away as you stood there, the anticipation crackling between you.
You looked up at him, your heart racing, as his hands slid up your back, his touch both firm and tender. “So, this is your idea of a private training session?” you teased, your voice breathless.
Logan’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Just thought we could continue our workout in a more…personal setting.”
Before you could respond, Logan’s lips were on yours, his kiss fierce and hungry. The sudden intensity took your breath away, but you melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him as you kissed him back with equal fervour.
His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he wanted to absorb every inch of you. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent as you both lost yourselves in the sensation. The roughness of his hands contrasted with the softness of your skin, creating a delicious tension that only heightened the experience.
Logan’s lips were warm and insistent, moving with a rhythm that made your pulse quicken. He gently pushed you against the wall, his body pressing against yours, the heat and strength of him undeniable. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips moving in perfect harmony with his.
The kiss was a dance of passion and exploration, each touch and caress filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. Logan’s hands slid down to your hips, his grip strong and possessive as he pressed you closer against him. You could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his muscles, and it only made you want him more.
“Jump,” Logan said, though it sounded more like a grunt than actual words. As you jump, his arms catch you, holding you by both of your legs as your hands threaded through his hair. You could feel him straining against his pants while he walked you over to the bed. You looked up at him with a smirk from where he tossed you on the bed. You slowly begin to undress, leaving you bare in front of him with the exception of your bra and panties.
“Stunning,” He muttered under his breath as he stared at you in a trance. His hand travelled down to his aching bulge, palming himself at the sight of you.
“Just gonna stand there and stare or are ya gonna do something, Wolvie.”
He let out an almost animalistic growl as he climbed on top of you, capturing your lips with his. His rough hands hands felt smooth against your skin as they travelled across your body. He pulls away from you, looking at his hands as his claws come out. He gently slides a claw under your bra, snapping it, freeing your breasts.
His claws retract and discard the bra across the room. His head quickly dives down to your tits, mouth latching onto one of your hard nipples as his hand kneads at the neglected breast. A yelp escapes your lips as he gently bites down on your nipple.
Your hands twine themselves in his hard, tugging gently as he moves his attention to your other breast. As he focuses on your breast, he shifts so that his elbow is holding him up while playing with your breast. His free hand slides down your body, slipping into your panties.
His fingers brush over your clit, making you let out a very solicited moan. His fingers run up your slit, making him groan.
“Fuck, you're already so wet and I’ve barely done anything yet, bub,” you let out an almost pathetic whimper in response. You feel him rut against your leg, attempting to get some much-needed relief. One of your hands leaves his hair and moves to push off his pants before planning him through his underwear, earning a groan from his lips.
You gasp as you feel one of his thick fingers enter you, pumping and curling in and out. It feels so good, all you can do is moan out his name. Looking into your eyes, he pulls you into a kiss as another finger slips into you. He swallows your moan with his mouth.
“Logan, ‘m so close baby,” you moan into his lips before whimpering at the loss of contact as his hand pulls your of you.
“Need to be inside you, want you to cum around my cock, darlin’” he says making you nod quickly, pulling your hand away from his groin.
He stands up, pulling off his boxers. As his cock frees, it slaps against his stomach and you almost whimper at the sheer size of it. His claws slowly extend out of his fist. He crawls back on top of you before using one of his claws to gently rip off your panties.
He positions himself at your entrance and looks up at you for approval.
“Please Logan just fuck me already.”
Gently and slowly, he pushes himself inside of you. His head falls back at the feeling of you around him. You wince at the slight sting from the size of him. He slows down and looks at you. You nod at him and moan as he bottoms out.
The two of you stay still for a minute as you adjust to him.
“Ok, you can move now, Lo.”
“How d’ya want it darlin’?” his raspy voice sounds out, making you even wetter.
“Rough baby, I thought this was supposed to be private training not–,” you tease him but are quickly cut off by your own moan as he roughly pulls out to the tip before slamming back in. His hands grip your legs, pulling them over his shoulder before moving to tightly grip the pillows next to your head. Your arms move up my your head, loosely wrapping around his.
The room is filled with loud moans and grunts as he fucks you. One of his hands moves down to circle your clit, making you cry out at the feeling. He drops one of your legs off his shoulder, changing the angle slightly.
“Oh fuck, right there!” you scream out as he pistons into your sweet spot. He throws his head back with a loud growl as your pussy clenches around him.
“Holy shit bub, so fuckin’ tight, wrapping around me just right.”
You hear the loud noise of his claws right next to your head as they extend into the bed. He uses them to give him more leverage as he fucks you harder, making you arch your back.
“‘M so close baby,” you moan into his ear as his head drops to your neck.
He doesn’t give up his relentless pace as he brings you closer to your orgasm. The sounds of his feral grunts in your ear throw you over the mess, making you scream as your insides tighten and you cum around his cock.
“Almost there,” he says as his thrusts become sloppier and his dick twitches inside of you.
“Where d’ya want it?”
“Inside, please,” you say, desperately.
Logan moves to kiss your tender lips roughly as he cums in you with a loud groan. His thrusts slow down before he comes to a stop. He drops on top of you with heavy breaths as you both lie there in silence.
Slowly pulling out of you, Logan rolls onto his back next to you before you both turn your heads to look at each other. He grins at your fucked-out expression.
“That was even better than I imagined,” he admits.
“Same,” you agree as you lean over to kiss him, smiling against his lips and muttering as you pull away,
“This was definitely a different kind of training, but I think that I still need a little more work on my form, think ya could help?”
Mars speaks... (again) I don't think I've ever locked in more than I did for writing the smut part of this. Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#mutant reader#female reader#hugh jackman#marvel#x men#mcu#deadpool and wolverine#oneshot#fanfiction#smut#reidsworld
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𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 | 𝐇.𝐒 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐧’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬. [nov’18–may’19]
requested!! thank u anon, i hope u enjoy :)
𝐂𝐖: unexpected pregnancy, labor + labor pains, fem!reader. i think that’s it!!
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 12.3k
❏ hope yall don’t mind that i included louis in this. i miss him fr. also, thank u again anon <3 hope this wasn’t too long
not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.
Life had slowed, but only just—somehow still breezy with that undercurrent of momentum that carried him from One Direction fevered heights, to the steady rhythm of his own solo journey. Fame was no stranger, but this? These moments were the ones he cherished most. He glanced at his wife, her eyes twinkling as she sat with their son. The simple joy of this evening reminded him of how far they had come. The quiet, intimate wedding in Holmes Chapel five years ago, the shockwaves it sent through the internet because they had managed to keep it so private, and then, only a year later, the unexpected news that YN was pregnant with Atlas.
He could still remember the exact moment he found out about their little surprise, how the world had seemed to tilt on its axis when she told him. It had been unplanned, a complete shock, but one that had filled him with a profound sense of love and responsibility.
Five years ago felt like a lifetime ago, yet it also felt like yesterday.
Five Years Earlier – November first, Holmes Chapel
The cold was sharp outside, but the small cottage Harry and YN had rented for the holiday season felt warm, cozy even. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and YN sat curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Outside, a gentle snow, the first of the season, had started to fall, covering the village in a blanket of white.
Harry had been out all day, helping his mother with some last-minute holiday preparations. The quiet of the house felt calming to YN, but there was something on her mind, something that had been gnawing at her for the past month. Her period was late—later than it had ever been.
She had noticed other small things too. A slight queasiness in the mornings that she initially brushed off as stress from the hectic, upcoming holiday season. But now, as she sat there, the weight of realization started to sink in. She might be pregnant.
Her heart pounded as she thought about it. They hadn’t planned for this. They had only been married for about a year, and though they had talked about children, it had always been a vague, distant future sort of conversation. But now, the possibility was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t sure how Harry would react.
Would he be excited? Nervous? Overwhelmed?
She glanced at her phone, considering whether to text him and ask him to pick up a pregnancy test on his way home. No, that felt too impersonal.
She had paced the empty hallways of the cottage, occasionally texting her husband back or scrolling through instagram. She knew Harry like the back of her hand, he wouldn’t be upset—perhaps a bit overwhelmed, but upset? No, from the years they’ve known each other, he loved children. She couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of dance sessions, hide and go seeks, and cartoon watching she’d walk in on when he was with the children of his family or friends. And from the discussions they’ve shared of their own future children, she knew he’d be ecstatic—she just didn’t think it’d be so soon.
A few hours later, the front door creaked open, and Harry’s voice echoed through the small cottage. “Lovey, y’here? S’cold as hell out there.”
She stood, wrapping Harry’s sweater tighter around her frame, trying to keep her nerves in check as she walked towards him. He looked so carefree, a light dusting of snow in his hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold, a grin already stretching across his face when he saw her.
“Got y’favorite mince pies from the bakery,” he announced, holding up a small paper bag as he walked towards her. “Mum says we need to fatten you up f’the winter.”
YN laughed softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, but she didn’t know how to say them. Instead, she took the bag from him and set it on the counter.
He began to shuffle around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a few glasses. He absentmindedly hummed a tune his wife didn’t quite recognize as he floated toward the freezer, pulling out a frosted glass bottle of rum with a smile. “Mum said she would’ve made it herself but–” He laughed, shaking his head as he set the bottle down on the counter with a heavy clank. “She’s decorating the house. Looks like autumn threw up in there.”
YN only responded in a gentle chuckle, one that made him look up with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned, immediately noticing the shift in her demeanor. He paused, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “Everything alright, sweet girl?”
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. Her eyes burrowed into his, shifting gaze from one eye to the other. Her lips parted, unsure of how to form the words that sat heavily in her throat. She exhaled, managing a smile as she shook her head. “Just a bit tired, thats all.”
She couldn’t tell him until she was sure. If he were to be overjoyed, she didn’t want to get his hopes up on the off-chance she wasn’t pregnant.
Harry paused for a moment, not fully convinced, but he didn’t want to push. If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she felt ready. So, he only smiled back as he unscrewed the rum and poured into the square glasses. He looked at her expectantly as he raised his eyebrows, bringing her a glass.
She stared at it as if it would jump out at her, her reflection waning in the amber liquid. She pulled her lips between her teeth, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed. “Not feeling it tonight.”
At that point, Harry knew something was wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, setting her—well, what was supposed to be hers—drink on the counter before he took a sip of his. “You sure y’alright?”
She brushed it off with a laugh, stepping toward him as he remained leaning against the counter. YN pressed a gentle kiss on his rum-slicked lips, cold to the touch. “You worry too much.”
He wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. “Rightfully so, m’love. Stubborn as a mule, you are.”
She scoffed, though only humor was laced in her tone. She pushed back from him, folding her arms over her chest with a feigned frown.
“What?” He smiled, taking another sip. “Should be titled an archeologist the way I dig for your heart.”
“Oh shut it, Styles. You’ve done no such thing.”
He laughed, placing his glass on the counter behind him and gently holding onto the edges. “You’re only proving my point, lovey.”
She rolled her eyes, flicking his chest before she began to step off toward the bedroom. YN looked over her shoulder expectantly with a sly smile. “You’re not gonna join me?”
She didn’t need to ask him twice.
He tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside as his wife’s laughter echoed down the hallway. She darted toward their bedroom, her giggles trailing behind her like music. Grabbing his glass from the counter and kicking off his shoes, he chased after her, a wide, mischievous grin lighting up his face.
There was a gloomy, gray sky the next morning, the kind where the clouds stretched thick across the sky, holding back any hint of sun. YN had woken up before dawn with a gnawing queasiness—a feeling that had been creeping up more often lately. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the discomfort.
She reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the small pregnancy test she ordered from doordash before the sun rose. She had tipped the dasher generously before staring at it in the restroom for what felt like hours. Her mind buzzed, unsteady with thoughts she couldn’t quite wrangle. The idea of being pregnant had only crossed her mind like a shooting star. She was nervous. They were still basking in the simplicity of their life, the unexpected quiet of their year-old marriage. This hadn’t been in the plan.
But here she was, two minutes ticking by like hours as she stared at the test resting on the edge of the sink.
And then, there it was.
Two blue lines.
Her heart raced, a mix of emotions she could barely process flooded her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel—excitement, worry, fear? It was all tangled together in a knot she didn’t have the strength to untangle. She felt a hint of guilt wash over her; how could she feel uncertain about something so beautiful? But it was real, and she knew it. This was so real.
She sank to the edge of the clawfoot tub in the small bathroom, hugging her arms around herself. She let herself sit there for a while, just breathing in and out, letting the realization wash over her like waves on a shore, eroding her hesitation bit by bit. Eventually, she felt a warmth begin to spread, a tentative but growing love, a sense that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.
Oh, god—but Harry.
Mere discussions about a hazy future never felt so prophetic.
Footsteps on the old wooden floor outside the bathroom brought her back to reality. Harry’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and sleepy, a mug clinking on the counter. “Love, you up?”
Her stomach twisted again, this time more with nerves than nausea. She took a deep breath, tucking the test in her hand and opening the door. As she stepped out, she found her husband leaning against the counter, his hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile on his face as he sipped from his mug.
“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper.
Harry raised an eyebrow, setting down his mug as he studied her face, his expression shifting to one of gentle concern. ”You’ve been off since yesterday, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”
YN took a breath, feeling the weight of the words she was about to speak. She crossed the small space between them, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she reached for his, and he immediately stilled, sensing her unease.
“Don’t freak out, okay?“ She said, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
Harry’s gaze softened, his fingers curling around hers. “Alright,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Swear it.”
She swallowed, her eyes dropping to where their hands joined, and finally, she managed to say it. “I’m–” she sighed, “I’m pregnant.”
The words hung in the air between them, and she felt his hand go still, his thumb pausing mid-stroke. She dared a glance up at his face, and in his eyes, she saw the shock she’d been expecting. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.
It was the longest silence she’d ever felt.
And then, slowly, a smile began to break across his face, soft at first, hesitant, but growing. His eyes sparkled with something she hadn’t expected—something gentle and pure, and so, so warm. “You’re… serious?”
She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips, a mix of nerves and relief. “Yeah. I know it’s not what we planned, and I—”
Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly as if he never wanted to let go. She felt his heartbeat racing against her cheek, felt the slight tremor in his breath as he held her.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “This is… I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, but…” He paused, his voice catching. “But, YN, this—this is everything.”
A smile broke across her face, the warmth in her chest growing, all her fears melting as she looked up at him. “Are you sure?”
Harry laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “I’m sure.” His eyes held hers, full of something she could only describe as love beyond anything she’d known before. “I mean, look at us. We’ve done everything backwards and upside down, haven’t we?” He chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Why not this too?”
They laughed together, and in that moment, all her worries felt so small, so distant. Harry pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her gently. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “We’re going to be parents?”
YN nodded, her own laughter mingling with tears she hadn’t realized were there. “I guess we are.”
Harry wrapped her up again, his arms strong and sure around her. “Our little family.” He looked around, a spark of excitement lighting his gaze. “The start of everything, right here.”
They stood there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet of the small cottage, a peacefulness settling over them. The morning light had started to creep in through the windows, casting a soft glow over them, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.
But as the initial excitement settled, the reality of the situation hit her hard. Morning sickness, which was more like all day sickness for YN, kicked in with a vengeance. She wondered what crime she may have committed in a past life to deserve such a karma.
She spent most of her mornings hunched over the toilet, her stomach in knots, while Harry hovered nearby, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll pass, baby.” He would say, though there was a flicker of worry in his eyes every time she retched.
The first trimester was rough. YN felt exhausted all the time, her body aching and her emotions all over the place. There were days when she could barely keep food down, and the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even stand the smell of Harry’s cologne.
But through it all, he was a constant source of support. He made her ginger tea in the mornings, rubbed her feet when they swelled, and stayed up late with her on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. He even held her hair back during the worst bouts of sickness, never once complaining or losing his patience.
Still, telling their friends and family was daunting. Anne had been thrilled, of course, immediately launching into grandma mode, talking about knitting booties and baby blankets. But YN worried about telling the public. Harry had always been fiercely protective of their privacy, and the idea of sharing something so intimate with the world felt overwhelming.
“I don’t want people to think anything bad of me.” She admitted to him one night as they lay in bed. She had spent the entire day feeling nauseous, and her nerves were frayed.
Harry propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her with a gentle smile. “No one’s going to think like that, baby.. And if they do, then screw ‘em. This is our family. No one else’s.”
His words, simple as they were, helped ease some of the anxiety gnawing at her. They would announce it when they were ready, and in the meantime, they would enjoy these private, intimate moments together.
A few weeks later, when YN was finally starting to feel a little better, they gathered their closest friends and family to tell them the news. Harry’s friend’s were among the first to know. They had gathered at their place in London, a casual get-together that didn’t feel too obvious or formal.
Jeff had been the first to catch on, his brow furrowing as he noticed YN sipping ginger ale instead of her usual glass of wine on occasions like these. “Wait a minute…” he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced between them. Oh God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?”
The room fell silent for a moment as Harry and YN exchanged a glance, a grin tugging at Harry’s lips. “Surprise!”
The room erupted into chaos. Mitch nearly fell out of his chair, laughing and shouting congratulations at the same time. Pauli looked like he might cry, and Sarah immediately started teasing Harry about how he’d better get used to sleepless nights.
“You two are gonna be knackered for the next eighteen years,” she quipped, though there was a deep affection in her eyes as she clapped Harry on the back. “But you’ll be great parents. I know it.”
As the weeks continued to pass and YN’s belly began to show, Harry’s excitement seemed to grow right along with it. He took over more and more of the household chores, practically hovering over her with a devotion that was both endearing and—just occasionally—a little over the top. But that was Harry; he never did anything halfway, and preparing to become a dad was no exception.
One evening, after a long day, they lay in bed, YN nestled against Harry’s chest as he rested a hand on her belly. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her small bump, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.
“Have y’thought about names?” he asked quietly, voice almost a murmur. There was a trace of wonder in his eyes, as if he were asking the question for the first time.
She smiled, shrugging lightly. The idea of names had been floating around in her mind for a while, but nothing had quite felt right yet. “Mm, I’ve got a few in mind,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Think I’m just gonna call ’em Fetus for now.”
Harry let out a laugh, his face lighting up as he shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said, voice full of warmth. He shifted lower, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. “Fetus Styles,” he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her gently, sending a spark of laughter through her.
Her smile never faltered, fingers combing through his curls as he settled his head on her bump, gazing up at her through his lashes. He held her gaze for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin, blowing raspberries onto her belly with glint in his eye.
She laughed, Harry faltering into her growing tummy as his phone began to ting with a mess of texts. He grabbed his phone that lay upon his wife’s thighs, sitting up beside her against the headboard with a wide smile as the phone illuminated his face.
She knit her eyebrows together, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Who has you smiling?”
He unlocked his phone, “Lou. I told him I had to talk to him tonight.”
She laughed as Harry clicked on the contact, pressing the facetime icon as the ringing filled the air. “It’s what..?” She trailed off, flickering her eyes in thought. “Noon in LA? Surprised he’s even up.”
After a beat, the screen flashed to life, and there he was—Louis, bleary-eyed, half-sprawled across his couch, nursing a mug of tea. He squinted at the screen, a smirk forming as he took them both in.
“Bloody ‘ell, look at you two all cozy!” He drawled, taking a sip. “Thought I was interrupting somethin’.” He chuckled, giving them a teasing wink.
Harry rolled his eyes, holding the phone between them. “Shut up. We’re just havin’ a quiet night in.” He glanced over at YN, then back at the screen, his grin a little wider. “‘Nd I needed to talk t’you, yeah?”
Louis’s smirk softened, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Right. What’s this then?”
He took a quick breath, almost unable to keep the smile off his face as he turned the phone back to YN, who gave Louis a warm smile before glancing at Harry. He squeezed her shoulder, then looked back to the screen, letting the words tumble out. “We’re havin’ a baby!”
For a moment, Louis just stared, the mug paused halfway to his lips as he absorbed the words. His mouth broke into a grin, and he let out a laugh. “Oi, you’re pullin’ my leg!” He leaned closer, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, you’re serious, aren’t ya?”
“Dead serious,” YN said, her voice gentle as she leaned in closer to Harry. “We’ve known for a few weeks now, but wanted to tell you ourselves.”
He sat up straighter, rubbing a hand over his face as he took it in, his grin somehow widening. “Jesus, Haz. A dad,” he mused, a playful sparkle in his eye. “I mean, didn’t see this comin’ back when you were too busy worryin’ about a pair of blue suede shoes to think about nappies.”
Harry let out a laugh, playfully nudging YN. “See, I’m just followin’ y’example, mate.”
Louis snorted, giving a mock scowl. “Better be—Freddie’s halfway to graduating high school it feels like. You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.” He settled back into the couch, softening as he looked at them both. “But seriously, this is brilliant, you two. Gonna make one hell of a mum and dad, aren’t ya?”
Harry glanced over at YN, his gaze lingering, soft and full of a quiet pride. “Hope so,” he said, smiling down at her before turning back to Louis. “Just been… sittin’ with it. So many things I wanna teach ’em, y’know?”
“Best get started on that lullaby playlist, then,” Lou teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Bet you’re already plannin’ that first guitar lesson.”
YN laughed, rubbing a hand over her belly. “It’s just been a whirlwind, honestly. We haven’t even found out the gender yet.”
Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Surprise ’n all? Makes it even better. Though if y’need tips on anythin’, I’ve got all the dad tricks—like what not to say when they’re askin’ questions in front of their mum.”
“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Start a whole book for me, will ya?”
Lou winked, lifting his mug. “Already makin’ notes. First chapter’s on nappies and the art of avoidin’ baby food on your shirt.” Then, his expression softened as he leaned closer. “Nah, for real. Couldn’t be happier for you two. And for that kid, too. Already got the best start with you both.”
Harry swallowed, his hand finding YN’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he held his friend’s gaze through the screen. “Means a lot, you’ll be his grumpy, old uncle, yeah?”
Louis grinned, nodding with a playful glint in his eye. “Best be—I’ll have ’em singin’ the chorus to No Control by the time I’m done. YN, darling, don’t you worry—I’ll keep him in line.”
YN chuckled, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that, Lou.”
“Damn right you will,” Louis shot back, settling back against his couch, eyes full of pride and a mischievous excitement. “And when I’m back over, s’gonna be you two doin’ the nappies, while I teach that kid how to annoy his dad.”
Harry feigned a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Cheers, mate.” Louis raised his mug, a glimmer of something genuine in his gaze. “Can’t wait. Love you both, yeah?”
Harry grinned, feeling the weight of Louis’s words. “Love you, too, Lou. Cheers.”
And as they hung up, YN nestled closer, both of them feeling the joy of sharing their secret with someone who’d been there for it all.
A few months had passed, and YN was officially eighteen weeks pregnant. The kitchen was quiet, filled with the warm scent of vanilla as Harry carefully set a single white cupcake on the counter. He’d insisted on something private, just the two of them. No big reveal party or confetti—just a simple cupcake with the surprise hidden inside. YN stood beside him, hands resting on her bump, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched him fuss over it.
“You’re really gonna make me cry over a cupcake, aren’t you?” she teased, nudging him lightly.
Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at her, dimples deepening. “Just y’wait.” He handed her the small knife, his fingers brushing hers, and his voice softened. “Ready?”
She nodded, her heartbeat picking up as she sliced through the cupcake. Slowly, she pulled the two halves apart, then stared down at the filling inside.
Bright green.
For a moment, they both froze, staring down in complete confusion. Harry tilted his head, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed as he looked at her, then back at the cupcake. “Uh… m’pretty sure green wasn’t one of the options.”
YN snorted, a laugh bubbling out as she lifted the cupcake up to inspect it. “Maybe they’re tellin’ us we’re having a little Niall?”
Harry’s eyes crinkled as he burst into laughter, clutching his chest. “God help us if there’s a little Irish guitar player in there.”
She grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “You think they’ll come out singin’ ‘Mull of Kintyre’?”
Harry laughed, covering his face with his hand. “First words’ll be potato, just y’watch.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “This is what we get for trustin’ a bloody cupcake.”
She rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag on the counter. “Should’ve gone with the doctor’s letter instead of dessert.” After a moment of rummaging, she triumphantly held up the small, folded envelope, smiling. “Alright, now you ready?”
Harry nodded, moving closer, his hand resting gently over hers as she slowly unfolded the paper. They both took a breath, glancing at each other before reading the bold, printed words inside.
Right underneath a blurry ultrasound picture printed onto the visit summary, there it was written.
Fetal sex: Male
For a heartbeat, they both just stared at the words, the realization washing over them like a warm tide.
“A little boy,” Harry murmured, his voice filled with awe as he shook his head in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a son.”
YN’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a wide smile breaking across her face. “A son,” she repeated softly, her hand covering his on her belly. Already, she could see him—a little boy with Harry’s eyes, his laughter, his kindness.
Harry swallowed, his own eyes misty as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then resting his against hers. “Think we’re ready for him?”
She let out a soft laugh, brushing away a tear. “Not even close,” she whispered, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “But I think we’ll do just fine.”
It was mid February by this point, a few weeks after celebrating Harry’s twenty-fifth birthday. The air had a sharp chill, and YN readjusted Harry’s oversized hoodie that hung off her growing frame, something that hid her bump well. They were dressed comfy and warm, Harry in a pair of sunnies with his hoodie pulled over his head. She nestled closer into her husband as they walked through the quiet side streets of London. They’d just finished lunch at their favorite café, savoring the rare chance to slip out together unnoticed. She pulled the hoodie over her head as a gust of wind brushed by.
“Wish we had days like this more often,” Harry murmured, his fingers lacing through hers as they made their way back to the car. “Just us, y’know?”
She smiled, leaning into him. “You mean just the two of us and fetus?”
Harry squeaked out a laugh that sounded like the ones from his early days in the x-factor, squeezing her hand. “Right, fetus. Can’t forget our little tagalong now.”
But as they turned onto the next street, something shifted—a distant hum of voices, then a sharp click of a camera. Before they could react, the quiet street filled with flashes, and a group of paparazzi materialized around them, spilling onto the sidewalk.
It wasn’t a swarm, just about five or so that were tipped off about Harry walking about the city in a pair of sunnies, as if that could keep him hidden.
“Harry! Harry! Just one photo!” A bald man shouted, pushing forward. The camera flashes came in rapid succession, blinding in the midday light.
He immediately shifted, drawing YN closer to his side, his hand protectively resting into her waist as he tried to steer her forward. “Alright, mate, that’s close enough,” he called out, his voice tense but calm.
“Harry, are the rumors true?” another voice shouted, barely inches from them, more cameras held up like a barrier.
“Just please let us through, yeah?” Harry’s voice was firmer now, his hand moving to shield YN’s face, pressing her into his chest as the crowd closed in tighter.
A jostle from the side sent her stumbling, and Harry’s arm tightened around her, his jaw clenched. “Hey, enough!” he barked, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her forward, his body acting as a buffer as he tried to clear a path.
“Just one shot, Harry!” a paparazzo persisted, his lens pointed squarely at YN, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed her face further into his chest, her heart pounding as she held onto Harry.
He shot a glare of his shoulder, jaw clenched as he remained silent, maneuvering his wife past the cameras, his hand never leaving her. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he led her through the last stretch to his car.
Finally reaching the door, he opened it for her, a quick but steady gesture, ushering her in and following right after. The cameras pressed in one last time as he shut the door firmly, finally sealing them off from the swarm outside.
Inside, the car was quiet, insulated from the chaos that still buzzed outside, windows tinted as legally possible. YN let out a shaky breath, her hands in her hoodie pocket as she glanced over at Harry. His face was flushed, a mix of worry and lingering frustration in his eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice gentler now, his hand pulling hers out of the pocket, thumb brushing over her knuckles as he studied her face.
She nodded with a faint smile, trying to steady herself. “Not our first rodeo, H.” She tried to joke. And it was true, it surely wasn’t the first time they’ve been bombarded by paps. YN wasn’t famous prior to meeting Harry, a smart girl as beautiful as she, he simply couldn’t ignore.
She was a friend of Anne’s best friend’s daughter, bumping into each other at a family gathering in 2014, immediately becoming close friends. He offered her a ride home that night, and when she thanked him profusely and offered to give him gas money, he knew then and there he was going to fall in love with this woman.
Fans and paps galore started delving into her life in late 2015, when a grainy picture of them kissing at a bar after a London show exploded on twitter. Since then, she always known about the lack of privacy in Harry’s life. And honestly, she’s still trying to adjust to it.
He exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers. “Hate that they got that close to you. Wish they’d just..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he glanced out the window, his gaze hardening when he saw the cameras still lingering in the distance.
She squeezed his hand, her voice soft. “It’s alright, baby. I’m alright.” She could see the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, though he still held her hand as if anchoring himself. “They don’t know, and that’s okay for now. It’s just us, remember?”
Harry nodded as he pulled from the curb, driving down the narrow street toward the red light. He turned back to her, his green eyes softening, and he nodded slowly. “Just us. Right.” His shoulders relaxed a little more, a trace of a smile returning to his face as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead while the light was still red.
But before he could pull away, she let out a small gasp, eyes widening as she felt a firm, insistent little nudge low on her belly. She looked up at him, her own hand moving instinctively to her bump.
Green illuminated over them, a honking echoing from behind as he froze in concern. “What?” He breathed, turning a corner to head to the grocery store in the distance, seeking a temporary refuge in the parking lot. He glanced between YN and the road, heart beating in his ears. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He raised his voice, though it wasn’t out of anger, just an anxiety that threatened to boil over.
She shook her head, her face breaking into a soft smile. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry. He just kicked.”
Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his frustration melting away as he stared at her, a grin forming slowly. “He did?”
She nodded, pulling his hand to her belly as he parked. “Right here. Just now.”
He held his breath, his palm pressed against her bump, waiting. And there it was again—a tiny but unmistakable kick, nudging firmly against his hand.
Harry’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole expression softening with awe. “Oi, there’s my little striker,” he mused, his voice thick with affection as he looked down at her belly. “We’ll have you in a Man United kit before you’re out of nappies, won’t we?”
She laughed, his words melting away the last traces of tension from the encounter outside. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Picking his team and all?”
He grinned, his eyes crinkling with pure excitement. “No chance he’ll be an Arsenal player.. First kicks mean we’ve got a future midfielder on our hands, yeah?” He grinned, “Dads gonna make sure y’got the right colors on you, bub.”
YN couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling as she watched the joy take over his face. She reached up, tucking a curl behind his ear, her fingers lingering against his cheek. “He’s already got you wrapped around his tiny little foot.”
Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss her, his hand still resting against her belly, feeling another small nudge. “S’pose I’ll let him get away with it. Just this once.”
*
March arrived in a blink.
It was early, the kind of early that still belonged to the night, when Harry’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. The world outside was still draped in darkness, the streets silent, as if London itself hadn’t quite woken up. Harry stirred, slowly pulled from the depths of sleep by the vibration of his phone. He squinted in the dim light, his vision blurry, barely able to make out the name on the screen. Jeff.
With a quiet sigh, Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear and trying to shake off the last bits of sleep that clung to him. He glanced over to YN, who lay nestled beside him, her breathing soft and even, lost in a peaceful slumber. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a tired but adoring smile tugging at his lips. She stirred slightly, her head nuzzling into his hand, and he felt a warmth rise in his chest. Moments like this felt sacred, untouched by the outside world.
But then Jeff’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and apologetic.
“Harry,” Jeff said, his tone low and serious, as if he wished he were calling for any other reason. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we’ve got a situation.”
Harry straightened, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. “What is it, mate?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to wake YN just yet. He kept his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin, grounding himself as he listened.
“There’s a magazine,” Jeff continued with a hesitant sigh. “They got photos of you and YN leaving the clinic yesterday after the ultrasound. They’re planning to release them tomorrow—noon sharp.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry’s jaw tightened after he took a shaky breath, his eyes falling back on YN, still blissfully asleep. They’d planned everything so carefully, wanting to share the news of their son on their own terms. They’d waited for the perfect moment, wanting to protect this piece of their life from the relentless intrusion of the outside world. And now, it was slipping out of their hands.
“Tomorrow?” he murmured, his heart pounding. He felt a surge of anger rising, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. Jeff waited in silence on the other end of the line, letting him process the news.
“Yeah,” Jeff said softly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. Figured you’d want to tell people yourselves, do it in a way that feels right.”
Harry nodded, even though Jeff couldn’t see him, his fingers still resting on YN’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. “Thanks, Jeff,” he finally whispered, his voice tight. “I’ll–erm–we’ll figure it out.”
He ended the call and placed the phone back on the table, his shoulders slumping as he tried to process what to do next. He looked down at YN, her face peaceful in the darkness, and he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking her. She deserved this moment of rest, free from worry and the weight of the world pressing in on them. But he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when it was about their son.
Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he murmured softly, “Baby, wake up.”
She stirred, her brows knitting together as she blinked up at him, still half-asleep, a faint smile gracing her lips as she registered his face. “H?” she whispered, her voice groggy and warm. “What time is it?”
“Too early,” he murmured, his own voice weighed down by the news he had to deliver. “Sorry t’wake you, but there’s something we need t‘talk about.”
Her eyes focused, a flicker of concern replacing the drowsiness as she sat up a bit, her hand resting on his. “What’s wrong?”
Harry took a deep breath, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It’s the pictures,” he paused with a sigh, “from yesterday, after our appointment. Paparazzi took photos, and they’re planning to release them by noon tomorrow.”
The weight of his words settled over her, and she let out a quiet sigh, her gaze dropping to the bed. They’d known this was a possibility—their lives were never entirely private—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She leaned into his touch, her fingers lacing through his as they both sat there in the stillness of the early morning, grappling with the realization that their hand was being forced.
“What do we do?” she asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and sadness.
Harry’s hand moved to hold hers, his grip gentle but steady. “We tell everyone ourselves. Today. We’ll release it before they can, on our own terms.” He paused, his voice softening. “It’s not what we planned, but, at least we can still share him with the world our way.”
YN gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a quiet resilience. They both knew they didn’t have any other choice. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they took a moment to steady themselves, finding strength in each other.
“Okay,” she murmured after a beat. “I trust you.”
They spent the next hour in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, talking about how to share the news. Eventually, Harry decided on something simple, something that would feel personal without giving too much away. He reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery, scrolling until he found the ultrasound image from their last appointment. It was a grainy black-and-white shot, but to him, it was beautiful—a glimpse of their son, small and precious, already loved beyond measure.
He glanced at YN, who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he took a deep breath, opening Instagram. With his fingers hovering over the screen, he crafted the caption, choosing each word carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.
I’ve been waiting to share this part of our journey with you all for a while now. YN and I are expecting a son, and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him into the world soon. Thank you for your love and support—can’t wait for you to meet him.
Love, H
He read it over, then looked at YN, who leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s perfect, baby”
With a final deep breath, he hit post, setting the phone down and letting out a long, steadying exhale. They sat there in the quiet of their room, wrapped up in each other as the reality of what they’d just done settled over them. This was the first time they were sharing their son with the world, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
Within moments, notifications began to flood in, messages of excitement, love, and support from fans around the world who had been waiting eagerly for news like this. Harry glanced at YN, his hand finding hers once more as he gave her a small, relieved smile.
”Cats out’v the bag.” He laughed softly.
She leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “They love you, H. They’ll love him, too.” She reassured.
As the sun finally began to rise outside their window, casting a gentle warmth over the room, Harry held her close, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. Despite the forced timing, despite the circumstances, they had done this together. And from this moment on, they would continue this journ, hand in hand, as a family.
Weeks passed by, and it another chilly March evening, and soft candlelight flickered in the bathroom, casting a warm glow over the walls as steam rose lazily from the tub. The couple sat tucked into the water, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles that floated between them. The bathroom was cozy as Harry’s arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against his chest, her bump nestled between them.
He’d insisted on running the bath for her, adding just the right amount of lavender oil to soothe her muscles, and now they were enveloped in that warm, calming scent, the soft sounds of water lapping around them. Harry’s hands rested gently on her belly, his fingers tracing light circles over the stretched skin as he hummed contentedly, clearly lost in thought.
After a few minutes of quiet, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring, “You know, we haven’t really settled on a name yet.”
YN grinned, biting back a laugh. "Sure we have. Fetus Styles—don’t you remember?”
Harry groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the tub. "God help this boy."
She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. "Fine, fine. So, what do you have in mind, love?"
Harry hummed thoughtfully, his fingers still tracing light circles over her bump. "I dunno. Something that isn’t Fetus or something basic, like David.”
"Otis?" she suggested with a playful smirk. She knew he hated the name.
He snorted, his chest vibrating against her back, shaking his head. "Baby, Otis is the name of that big slobbery dog at the park. Our son deserves better than being named after a drool machine."
She playfully splashed a few bubbles toward him, her laughter filling the room.. "Alright, alright. So, we're vetoing Otis and Fetus, oh wise one.”
“Good,” he said, lowering his head ever so slightly and nibbling her shoulders gently. “So, what else is on your list, then?”
She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to recall some of the names she’d been turning over in her mind. “I do like Ezra.”
“Ezra,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it. “It’s alright. But it sounds like he’d be in a jazz band or something.”
“Maybe he’ll be in a jazz band,” she countered, grinning as she nudged his arm. “A little musician just like his dad.”
Harry hummed, his fingers lightly drumming a rhythm against her belly. “Alright, fair point. Ezra can be a maybe. What else?”
She let out a thoughtful hum, swirling her hand through the bubbles. “What about August?”
“August’s alright I guess,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he considered it. “But I don’t know. August Styles..feels like he’d be a mischievous little troublemaker.”
“Like his dad, you mean?” she teased, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.
He grinned, shrugging. “If he takes after me, he’ll definitely be one,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I dunno. Still doesn’t feel quite right. But I do like the idea of an A name.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts as the water lapped softly around them. Harry’s hands moved back to her belly, his touch gentle and reverent, as if he were trying to connect with their son through the warm water and the growing curve of her bump. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of the bath and the feeling of his arms around her.
After a while, Harry spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful. “What about Atlas?”
YN opened her eyes, blinking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Atlas?”
“Yeah.” He shifted slightly, his hand still resting on her belly as he looked at her, his eyes warm. “It’s strong, y’know? Unique. I like the idea of him having a name that feels like he could carry the world if he wanted to.”
YN let the name settle, repeating it to herself, and feeling it take root, becoming more than just a word. “Atlas Styles,” she said softly, letting the sound roll off her tongue. “It fits him, I think. Strong like his kicks.” She giggled.
Harry’s face lit up as he grinned down at her, his dimples deepening, a twinkle of something unspoken sparking in his eyes. “Exactly,” he murmured, trailing a hand gently over her bump. “Atlas Styles. Got the name of a proper legend already. Manchester United should be countin’ themselves lucky.”
YN laughed again, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. “Oh, really? Our boy is still going to save Manchester United, is he?”
“Obviously,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Just imagine it—Atlas Styles, midfield maestro, dominating the pitch. The crowd chanting his name.” He mimics the sound of a roaring crowd in a hush, “‘Atlas! Atlas!” He chanted in a whisper, “United will have never seen anything like him. They’d be winning the league every season with a name like that.”
She shook her head, fighting a laugh as she slipped a few bubbles onto his nose. “Right, because he won’t be busy enough carrying the world. He’ll just take Manchester United on his back too?”
Harry shrugged, brushing the bubbles away with a look of mock seriousness. “Our little Atlas can handle it all. With a name like that, he’ll be unstoppable.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, if he’s not into football, I s’pose that’s alright too.”
YN smiled, squeezing his hand, warmth spreading through her as she thought of their little Atlas and all the dreams they had for him—footballer or not, world-bearer or not, he would be loved beyond measure.
*
The rain pattered softly against the window as April rolled in, casting a gentle gray light over the nursery. YN stood by the door, watching Harry wrestle with the crib pieces scattered across the floor. She cradled her belly, which had grown significantly in the last month. Her due date was set for mid-May, only a few weeks away, and she could feel the weight of their son settling lower, as if he, too, was getting ready for the journey ahead.
Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he squinted at the instruction manual. The crib, which he had eagerly declared would be a breeze to assemble, now looked more like puzzle pieces that lay scattered around him, screws and wooden slats in disarray, as he muttered under his breath.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” YN asked with a soft grin, leaning against the doorway as she watched him struggle.
He looked up, shooting her a playful glare. “I’ve got it, thanks,” he insisted, though he seemed far from convinced himself. He twisted a screwdriver, only for the wood to creak ominously in protest. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and YN bit her lip, stifling a laugh.
“Sure you do,” she teased, crossing her arms over her bump. “Maybe our son will be crawling by the time you figure that out.”
Harry chuckled, dropping the screwdriver with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he gave her a dramatic pout. “Go on, laugh at the man trying his best to be a good dad. Just what I need, huh?”
She laughed, stepping into the room to get a closer look at his progress—or lack thereof. “You’re doing great, honey,” she said, her tone light. “Maybe just… not great at building cribs?”
He rolled his eyes, but the hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” he mumbled. Then, before she could respond, he reached out, gently tugging her down to sit beside him.
“Hey!” she gasped, though she let him guide her down, leaning into his arms. Her back rested against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
He maneuvered her gently onto the carpet, hovering over as his hands resting on either side of her, leaning close, his face only inches from hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I should distract you so y’can’t mock me,” he murmured, his voice teasing.
Before she could respond, he started peppering her face with kisses—one on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She squealed, laughing as he continued, his lips brushing against her skin, his stubble tickling her and sending her into a fit of giggles.
“Harry!” she gasped between breaths, her hands on his shoulders as she tried to squirm away. “You’re ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous?” he repeated, grinning as he planted a kiss just above her lips. “Maybe. But it’s working, isn’t it?”
She gave him a playful shove, but he only laughed, pulling her closer as he trailed his kisses down to her neck, the weight of him comforting as he hovered over her, his hands gentle on her sides. Finally, when her laughter had softened, he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze warm and full of affection.
God, how he loved her.
After a moment, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “Alright,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at the mess of crib parts. “Maybe I could use those hands of yours.”
YN smiled, brushing her hand down his chest. “Hm,” she hummed, “where?”
“Oi!” The brunette giggled, swatting her wandering hand away as he sat up, shifting to be beside her. “Wicked woman, you are. Get to work.”
She huffed, although there was no anger residing in her. Maybe an ache between her thighs, but that’s something she could sort out with her husband later. She sat up, sitting cross legged beside Harry as he reached for the instruction manual.
The two of them sat side by side on the nursery floor, her hand resting over his as they sorted through the crib parts. Harry studied the instructions once more, pointing out the next few steps with a renewed confidence that was helped by her steady presence beside him. YN held the pieces steady while Harry carefully tightened each screw, the two of them working together, their laughter filling the room whenever something went slightly wrong.
Finally, after some teamwork, a bit of trial and error, and more than a few shared smiles, they placed the last piece into place, and the crib stood finished in front of them. They both sat back, admiring their handiwork, their hands intertwined as they took in the sight of the nursery coming together, piece by piece.
Harry looked over at YN, his gaze soft as he took in her face, still flushed from laughter. “Not bad for a couple of first-timers, huh?”
She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding her hands out in front of them and wiggling her fingers. “Thanks to these.”
He snorted, gently taking her chin in his grasp to force her to look at him. “Shut up and kiss me.”
As time passed by quicker than ever, spring took the city by full force, it was finally May. Flowers bloomed in their garden, trees shook with the delicate breeze of a looming summer. The sun fell behind the hills later and later, still offering a golden glow as they ate dinner.
A gentle rain drummed against the windows as YN and Harry shared a cozy dinner on the sofa, the warm light of a movie and fading sunlight flickering across their faces. They were nestled together, plates balanced on laps (and bump) as they laughed at an old comedy. Outside, the world felt comfortably distant. Everything about this moment felt ordinary, like the calm before a long-anticipated storm.
But YN hadn’t been entirely honest with Harry tonight. She had felt a dull ache creeping into her lower back and belly since late afternoon, a sensation she had brushed off as yet another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. Her OB had warned her that false alarms would be common in these final weeks, and she’d already had a few where they’d rushed to the hospital only to be sent back home. So tonight, she’d told herself that it was nothing—just her body practicing, nothing more. But as they watched the movie, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, her breaths deepening whenever another wave rolled through her.
The contractions had grown stronger as they ate, each one hitting her lower back with a dull, throbbing ache before tightening sharply across her belly. She bit her lip, forcing a smile whenever Harry glanced her way, trying to play it off. But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed or the cold bead of sweat she felt on her brow as she worked to stay composed.
As they finished their dinner, Harry stretched and stood, gathering their plates with a grin. “Think I’ll wash these up. You just sit there and relax, yeah?”
She smiled, nodding as he carried their dishes into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he washed the plates, oblivious to the intensity of the pain building within her. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sofa as a new wave hit, this one sharper than before, radiating from her lower back and spreading between her hips, each pulse making her muscles contract and tighten. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her mind racing as she tried to convince herself it was nothing.
But then, as she watched Harry rinse a glass, her vision blurred with another wave of pain—deeper, sharper, as if her body was tightening from the inside out. Her breath hitched, and this time she couldn’t hide the small gasp that escaped her. She braced herself against the sofa, her fingers digging into the fabric as she fought to breathe through it.
Harry looked over, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tension on her face. He set the glass down in the sink, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped back into the living room. “Love?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You alright?”
She forced a smile, trying to play it off, but her voice came out strained. “I’m fine. Just–“ She grunted, “Braxton Hicks, I think.” But even as she spoke, it was like an aftershock of an earthquake, stealing her breath, the pain sharper than before. Her hand flew to her belly, fingers pressing down instinctively, and she had to close her eyes, focusing all her energy on breathing through it.
Harry’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he knelt beside her, his hand moving to rest on her knee. “That doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks,” he said gently, his voice laced with concern. “How long’s this been going on?”
She hesitated, looking down as she tried to keep her breathing composed. “Since– since earlier this afternoon,” she admitted, wincing as the pain reached its peak, leaving her feeling helpless and raw. “I thought it was nothing, really. But it’s–I dunno– it’s getting worse.”
Harry’s face shifted from concern to something closer to alarm. He was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to process her words, before his gaze softened, and he slid his hand to hers, squeezing it gently. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “We’re not going to take any chances.”
YN nodded, relief flooding her at the calm resolve in his voice, but as she tried to stand, another contraction gripped her—this time harder than any before. It started as a dull ache that quickly sharpened into an almost searing pressure, as though her whole belly was clenching in waves she couldn’t control. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly as she clutched Harry’s arm.
Harry’s eyes widened as he caught her, his face shifting into a worried frown. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost to himself, before shaking off the shock and focusing on her. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back down to the sofa with a gentle firmness. “We’re going t’breathe through this one, yeah? Just like we practiced.”
She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought to steady her breathing, but the pain was relentless, each wave feeling sharper than the last. Her body felt like it was working against her, every muscle tightening until she was gasping, unable to fully catch her breath. She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice a shaky whisper. “H, this hurts more than I thought it would.”
He brushed a hand through her hair, his voice soft but unwavering as he held her close. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. Just focus on breathing, alright? I’ve got you.”
As the contraction faded, she managed to catch her breath, slumping slightly against him, feeling a mix of exhaustion and dread for what was coming next. She felt his hand at the small of her back, steadying her, and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch, the calm he radiated even as she could see the worry flickering in his eyes.
“We’re calling the OB,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This doesn’t feel like false labor, does it?”
She shook her head, unable to deny the reality that had settled in. “No..I think this is real.”
Harry’s face softened, a mix of pride and worry as he watched her breathe through everything. When the pain passed, he took her face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice steady. “We’re going to get you through this, love. One breath at a time.”
With that, he stood, reaching for his phone and dialing their OB, staying right by her side as the call connected. He answered each of the doctor’s questions carefully, glancing at YN between each answer, his hand never leaving hers. After a few minutes, he hung up and turned back to her, a mixture of excitement and resolve in his gaze.
“She says it sounds like early labor,” he told her softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re going t’the hospital. Just you and me, hm?”
YN nodded, taking a steadying breath as she leaned into him, his strength anchoring her. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she knew that she had everything she needed to get through this.
The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle as Harry helped YN into the car, settling her carefully into the passenger seat, his hands gentle but steady. Her breaths were deep and focused, each one an effort to keep herself calm as the contractions continued, not close enough to urge a rush but strong enough to leave her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Harry buckled her in, his gaze warm and reassuring as he brushed his hand over her shoulder.
“You’re doing great, sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Next stop, hospital. Just you, me, and our little Atlas.”
YN managed a faint smile, squeezing his hand as he lingered beside her for a moment before closing the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from their quiet street, its headlights cutting through the misty drizzle, as they made their way into the city. She leaned her head back against the seat, focusing on the rhythm of the rain tapping against the windows, letting the steady sound settle her mind.
As they drove, Harry glanced over at her frequently, his hand occasionally drifting from the wheel to hold hers. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or if I need to pull over. Anything at all.”
He rambled when he was nervous.
YN nodded, keeping her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Another contraction started, gripping her with that same deep ache that radiated from her back to her belly. She clenched his hand, squeezing as she focused on her breathing, her fingers white-knuckling against his. It was painful, but she willed herself to relax, to breathe through the intensity, letting her breath match the gentle rhythm of the rain.
Harry squeezed her hand back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. “Out of all women in the world who gave birth, you’re the most beautiful.” He smiled warily. His stupid compliment even made him want to smack himself upside the head. But he looked at his wife expectantly.
When the contraction passed, she released a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to shoot daggers into him with a glare, but looking at that goofy smile she fell in love with, the way his cheeks flushed pink and eyes looked unsure, she couldn’t. She mustered out a weak, breathy laugh.”Shut up.” She whispered.
They reached the hospital, and Harry pulled up to the lot, parking the car before rushing around to help her out. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her through the automatic doors, his gaze steady and protective as he led her to the reception desk. The lobby was quiet, lit by soft fluorescent lights that made the polished floors gleam. Harry gently rubbed her back as they reached the counter, where a man with glasses and a walkie looked up with a polite smile.
“Hi,” Harry said, his voice calm but firm, “we’re here for an admission. Our OB requested it.” He grinned lightly, seeking to be polite despite his nerves. He gave his wife’s name through his smile.
The receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer before glancing back at YN, who was gripping Harry’s hand, her face pale and tense. After a moment, the man looked up. “Alright, we have you here. Just a moment.”
He picked up the phone, speaking briefly with someone before hanging up and nodding toward them. “Patient transport is on the way. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and up to the maternity ward to get settled.”
Harry thanked him, his hand resting on the small of her back, he murmured, “y’doing so well, my sweet girl.”
She leaned into him, exhaling a shaky breath as another mild contraction started to creep in, but before she could fully brace herself, a transport worker arrived with a wheelchair.
Harry helped her ease down into it, kneeling beside her and brushing his thumb over her hand. She looked down at him, her expression a mix of pain and determination. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her words braver than she felt.
He met her gaze, his eyes full of pride and unwavering support. “I know you are,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he stood and walked beside her as they made their way to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, each floor lighting up in sequence as they ascended to the maternity ward, and she found herself counting each breath, each second, each floor, until they finally reached the unit.
Once inside the labor and delivery ward, they were greeted by a nurse who led them into a dimly lit room that felt strangely peaceful, its walls painted a soft pink, the lights warm and low. The nurse introduced herself, her voice calm and soothing as she helped YN settle onto the bed, helping her into a hospital gown before taking her vital signs and asking a series of questions, jotting down notes while Harry sat by her side, holding her hand.
“Let’s get you as comfortable as we can,” the nurse said gently, adjusting the bed’s settings. “Now, you’re still in early labor, so we’re going to monitor you closely, but it could be a while yet.”
YN nodded, feeling both grateful and anxious at the prospect of waiting. The contractions continued, rolling in like waves, growing in intensity but not yet regular enough to signal active labor. Each one required her full focus; she found herself closing her eyes, breathing deeply as she squeezed Harry’s hand, centering herself with each wave of pain.
Hours passed, the pain deepening with each contraction as her body adjusted, stretching and preparing for the arrival of their son. The nurse checked in periodically, taking notes, adjusting her position, and checking her dilation with gentle reassurance, but progress was slow. The contractions were more frequent now, each one a sharp, relentless pressure that seemed to radiate from deep within her, pulling her to the very edge of her endurance.
Harry never left her side, his hand a steady anchor as he held hers, his voice low and soothing, guiding her through each breath. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together. “Just a bit longer, yeah? You got it.”
At one point, the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn’t bear to sit still. Harry helped her stand, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest. Her arms draped over his shoulders, clinging to him as she rocked back and forth, swaying through each contraction, finding relief in the gentle rhythm. He whispered words of encouragement, his hands rubbing her back as she trembled against him, each wave of pain stealing her breath and leaving her gasping.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice a steady hum that she latched onto, focusing on the warmth of his words as the pain pulsed through her. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”
She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain reached a peak, her knees weakening under the weight of it. But Harry held her up, his arms strong and steady, supporting her fully as she swayed, letting the movement carry her through each contraction. She pressed her forehead into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, keeping her anchored in the storm of pain.
When the nurse checked again, the news was disheartening—only a few more centimeters dilated. YN felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, the hours of labor sapping her strength, but Harry was there, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, whispering soft reassurances as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder.
As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew sharper, more intense, each one like a wave crashing against her, forcing her to draw deeper into herself just to withstand the pain. Harry eased her back onto the bed, pulling a mask toward her face, releasing a gas that would help the pain. Her mind blurred under the relentless rhythm of labor. Yet, every time she opened her eyes, he was there—his gaze steady, his hand in hers, his words like an anchor.
She held the mask to her face with her other hand, breathing it in deeply. As backward as it sounded, even laboring and pushing out a baby, the thought of a seven inch needle being put into her spine scared her even more. The thought of an epidural was tempting, being numbed from the waist down—but it made her stomach churn with anxiety, too. She had enough of that already, so she stuck to the gas.
YN lifted the gas from her nose, staring at Harry through half lidded eyes. “Can’t wait to have sex with you in six weeks.” She mumbled, her voice hazy.
Harry eased the mask back onto her, his cheeks growing red from her clouded words. He let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, one step at a time, hm?”
At last, as dawn began to break outside, the sunlight bleak, barely there. The nurse’s expression shifted as she checked YN’s progress. She smiled, looking up with gentle relief. “We’re almost there,” she said softly. “Just a little bit longer.”
Harry’s face lit up, his eyes shining as he looked down at YN, his voice soft and full of pride. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, brushing strands of her hair back. “Hear that? Final stretch, baby.”
YN nodded, too exhausted to respond, but the warmth in his eyes gave her the strength to keep going. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she faced the final contractions, the pain almost blinding but her determination carrying her through, and Harry’s voice guiding her every step of the way.
Once she was ten centimeters, a team rushed in. Two nurses and the OB. Her legs were placed into stirrups, her gown bunched up over her tummy.
It was the longest, most intense thirteen hours of her life, but as she felt the final waves of pain, the medical staff guided her through the last moments, she clung to Harry, his hand a lifeline, his presence a comfort that wrapped around her like a shield. And with one last surge, a cry filled the room, and she knew it was all worth it.
“Oh.” She whimpered, her own cry emitting from her as her son was placed onto her bare chest for the first time. A nurse wiped him down as he wriggled against YN, Harry leaning down by her shoulder, staring in awe.
That was his boy, his son. A piece of him and the love of his life brought forth into the world. He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling he felt as he flickered his gaze between his wife’s and Atlas’s.
Sparse stands of brown locks sat atop his head, a color matching his fathers. He gently placed his hand atop it, his thumb rubbing against his forehead as the little boy continued to cry.
His eyes resembled his mothers, as did his nose. But everything else? That was all Harry. He cooed at him, whispering soft nothings to to his baby boy before the nurse approached him with medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord, dad?”
Dad.
Butterflies surged through his tummy.
He drew a deep breath, looking at YN for silent encouragement, to which she only smiled at him. Her husband, the father of her son.
He gently grabbed the scissors from the nurse, hesitantly approaching where he was told to cut. He looked at his Atlas who seemed to calm down a bit, slowly coming to terms with being brought out into the world. He steadied himself, and then with a delicate snip, he cut the cord.
As he handed them back to the nurse, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He looked down at the two he loved most in the world, lightly grasping onto his little feet and silently counting his tiny toes.
“Sit.” YN softly ordered, holding the boy against her chest with one hand and patting the small spot beside her with the other.
He nodded slowly, easing himself down into the spot after lowering the right side bar so he’d fit. He leaned against YN, his feet still upon the floor.
The baby was swaddled into a pale blue blanket before she handed him over to Harry, his heart melting instantly. He cradled him against his chest, tucking his head down to place delicate kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I love you so much.” He whispered, hesitantly ripping his gaze away from his son onto his wife.
His lip quivered as he placed a kiss against her sweaty hair, “Thank you so much.” His voice was delicate, a murmur. “I owe you everything.”
This was all he needed. His heart swelled with a love so profound, it felt almost overwhelming, as if the sheer depth of it might consume him. It was a love that stretched beyond anything he’d known, powerful enough to break him apart and put him back together all at once. But he embraced it, letting it fill every part of him, savoring each precious drop. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt exactly where he was meant to be.
This was home.
#dadrry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles concept#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles pregnant#harry styles drabble#harry styles dad#harry styles request#husbandrry#harry styles fanfic
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~ BET ~
JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader(kinda implied kook)
Warnings: Smut, Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Edging, lil bit of Daddy Kink, d/s Dynamics, Creampie, Papa Jay. Kinda Proofread.
Please point out any mistakes
{masterlist}
————
JJ hadn’t even considered how difficult NNN would be, when the idea came up between him, John B, and Pope he thought it would be the easiest 40 bucks he had ever made. He didn’t need to finish to have fun, he could make you come undone with two fingers, easy. However, he gravely underestimated how much you needed him to be inside you, no matter how many times he had you cumming on his fingers and tongue in a day, he would still have to hold back through all of your begging that night.
JJ hadn’t noticed how much he spoiled you until now, he would have you underneath him or between him and a wall every day, sometimes twice if he could. And you had gotten used to that treatment. “But what about me Jay?” You pouted, looking up to him with those big, sad eyes when you came to the Chateau that night, and he knew he messed up. There was no way he was gonna make it because he didn’t realize he had you addicted to his cock until you were already fiending for it. All on account of his stupid bet.
And it just got harder from there.
Your lips grazed against the back of his neck, your hands feeling the tense muscles in his lower back as they danced across his skin, “Please Jay, I can’t wait, I want you now,” JJ held back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut when your hands made there way around to his front, hidden under his shirt where your fingers traced down his happy trail, testing him and pushing him further. He felt himself twitch in his cargo shorts, hardening almost immediately as your scent surrounded him, the feeling of your soft fingers almost sending him over the edge.
“It’s only day one Gorgeous, don’t test me.” He stated, his hands stopping yours when your fingers began playing with the button on his shorts as if they had a mind of their own. You groan behind him, retracting your arms and the warmth that came with them from around him, crossing them over your chest teasingly.
“You know I won’t tell them if you crack Jay, they would never know.” He sighed, head falling back before turning to watch you walk away from him, the sassy little swing in your hips almost making him jump at the offer. Almost.
But, his rejection sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying, if anything it egged you on further.
————
“What if I just sit on it Jay, I’ll warm you and when you’re about to cum I’ll get off Baby, I promise.” JJ chuckled at the desperate tone in your voice from below you, his head leant against the back of the couch displaying his Adam’s apple that bounced up and down every time your hips moved against him again. “Please Jay, I wanna feel you.”
“Nuh uh Princess, I know you can’t control yourself,” He laughed through a groan, the desperation of his voice making you speed up, proving him right. The friction building between you two becoming too much for him, your hips speeding up even more to chase the high he can’t have. He watches your chest rise and fall quicker as you drop your head into his shoulder, whining in his ear the closer you get to your release. You can feel him twitching against your clothed cunt every time you clench against nothing.
“Can you feel how wet I am for you through my underwear Jay?” His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, he’s testing himself now seeing how close he can get to the edge before he stops himself. Part of him just wants to let it happened, but he can’t lose in the first week, he would never hear the end of it, “Fuck Baby I am so sorry.” He groaned into your neck, tugging you up by your hips, moving to the side and aggressively pushing you down to reconnect with his thigh.
His large hands keep your rhythm when you falter, pushing you and tugging you against his thigh, pulling whines from your throat and making you twitch in his lap. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging on it uncontrollably while the band in your abdomen tightens. Your slick coats his leg forcing him to bite into your shoulder to control himself, whining into your flesh every time your knee brushes his tip, edging himself even further. You stutter and gasp, twitching against his thigh and soaking his shorts, his hands slow with your hips speed. Your watery eyes looked to him and his dick strained against his zipper further.
“You’re taking this so seriously, if I wasn’t so pissed at you I’d actually be kind of proud,” Your voice was breathy and came out strained, your glossy eyes held onto his, the little pout you had making him twitch and groan.
“I’m pissed at myself too,” He sighed, letting his head fall back into the crook of your neck, “I’ll tell ya’ what, if JB breaks soon, I’ll let Pope win and then you can ride me all you want Mama.”
“Really?! For me?” You squeak, so excited you would be embarrassed if you weren’t with JJ, “Fuck you’re amazing you know that?” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers tangle into his hair again. Your soaked panties rubbing against his still hard cock, mixed with the sting your nails left at the base of skull forcing a whimper from his throat, and you know right then there is no way he is lasting the whole month.
————
“Cleo just texted me and Sarah, she broke Pope,” You giggled, typing away on your phone, his blue eyes watching you more intently than usual, just as they had been for the last ten days, “I kinda thought he would beat you both honestly.” You stated, tossing your phone beside you on the bed he made his before crawling over his thighs, his semi-hard cock already pressing against your entrance when you settle. He was so used to fucking you every night before you both slept in each other’s arms, that his body seemed to be prepared for it. Every time he looked at you recently he felt like he was about to bust, he was never doing this again. He decided he wouldn’t even be taking a trip without you ever again.
“Do you wanna fuck me now Jay?” Your breath fans across his ear and JJ bangs his head against the bed frame with a groan, your lips trail down the warm, salty skin on his neck stopping at the spot he loved the most and licking a stripe back up to his ear. You were desperate he could tell, and he absolutely loved it, and hated not being able to take care of it.
“Baby, you know I said if JB breaks….” He sighs into your skin, “Now I gotta win Princess, especially now that I know you thought I would lose.”
“Nooo, Jay, you can not imagine how horny I have been without you inside me,” you whined against the shell of his ear, exaggerating your neediness only a bit to try and get him to crack, “I won’t tell, not even Sarah.”
“Oh but Baby, that’s not winnin’,” He tsked, grabbing your cheeks, tugging your pouting face away and forcing eye contact, “If you wait I’ll use the bet money on anything you want.”
“I jus’ want you Daddy please.” You gripped his shoulders, thinking you knew exactly what the nickname would get you. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip as you began to rock your hips slightly, wanting him to finally give you what you want.
“Oh so that’s what you’re gon’ do huh?” His head tilted, slipping into his more dominant personality on instinct, his jaw twitching, his large hand gripping your hair in a flash, tugging it back and exposing your neck to him, “You can’t play that card and win Princess you know I’m in charge here.” He whispered into the flesh of your neck before his lips began their assault, sending a shiver down your spine and heating your abdomen even more than it had been.
“Do you want me to make it even worse for you Gorgeous,” he teased, “You can join me in this bet if that’s what you really want? I’ll bring you right up to the edge,” he whispered, his free hand slowly falling into your shorts to tease the hem of your underwear, “And then pull you right back with me.” He finished with a chuckle, snapping his hand out of your shorts, leaving you whining and wiggling against him.
“That’s no fair, you always make me cum, even when you’re mad.” You lean away from him and he lets you, resting you on his thighs before crossing your arms across your chest in the teasing way you know he likes. Shoving your breasts together right in his face, playing up the bratty attitude to get what you want.
“I make you cum when you’re good, and since you chose to pull out the Daddy card when you know damn well I can’t slip out of control until I finish,” He sighed between his words, eyes bouncing between your eyes and cleavage, controlling himself before he just fucks you right now, “Now you need to deal with his consequences.”
Your smile grows on your face, giggling at his words before you speak, “Okay, okay, I did do it on purpose but only because I need you so much.”
“Ah ah ah,” The teasing tone of his voice knocks your smile right off your face and you know you messed up, “I am dead serious, you’re stuck now Sweetness, you fucked up and now Papa Jay is gonna get what he wants. If you don’t act right I am gonna watch you beg for release every singe time I wanna fuckin’ cum until I can, do you understand me?”
Your eyebrows squeeze together, watching his face for a sign of hesitation, but the dominance stays. You whine as you wiggle your way off his legs to lat beside him, scowling at him before turning your back to him and laying down for bed. “If you change your mind in the middle of the night don’t hesitate to….wake me up, but only if you wanna fuck me awake.” You tease, wiggling your hips to poke out your pantie clad ass cheeks his direction.
“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that in the morning Gorgeous,” He laughed, slotting himself behind you in the dark, his arm pulling you into him and moaning in your ear at the feeling of your ass against his tightening boxers. You wiggled against him, pushing into him as he pushes back, his large hand splayed out on your lower abdomen tugging you impossibly closer. In one quick motion his leg locks against yours and his arms tighten around you, halting your movements as he speaks into your ear.
“Goodnight Baby, I love you so fucking much,” He growls into your ear, halting for a second to nip at your flesh before continuing, “and when I win this bet I am gonna give you the best dick of your life I promise you.” You whine again, desperately trying to run your thighs together for some type of friction.
“I love you too Jay, but I still want it now.” You huff, stopping your feeble attempts at movement at his soft, sleepy laugh behind you.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He says with a yawn before you’re both slipping into a restless, sweaty sleep tangled together.
————
Your phone lights up beside you on your bedside table, prompting you to grab it and read Sarah’s message in the group chat made for your fellow victims of NNN. “Fuck yes.” You whispered under your breath as you typed out your response, letting them both know your man was the winner. The smile grew bigger on your face when your eyes met JJ’s as he entered your bedroom, his shirt was discarded, allowing your eyes to trace the drops of water left behind after he brushed his teeth as they make a pathway through his chiseled abs.
"See somethin' ya like?" He asks with a teasing smirk that widens into a grin when you toss your phone aside for him, sticking your arms out silently begging him to join you on the bed, wanting to finally feel his skin against yours again. He stalks towards your bed, eyes on you intently as you wiggle in excitement at his proximity,
"Who were you texting?" He asks, his voice deep and demanding, as though he would throw the bet away if you answered wrong.
You smile even wider at his question, "Sarah and Cleo." You state matter of factly, crawling towards JJ where he stands at the foot of the bed. His eyes follow your movements closely, taking notice of the fact that you had already shed your pants for bed. Your hips rocked teasingly the closer you got to him, your cleavage free of if it's usually confines was visible entirely from his angle above you. You stood on your knees proudly when you finally reacher him, drifting your hand across his chest, letting it slowly fall lower while he groans at the contact.
"If you stop right now I promise I will fuck you tomorrow whether John B breaks or not." He growls, dropping his head as though he was ashamed, gripping your hand to stop it's decent. He knew if he let it fall any further he would lose control. You only giggled in response, leaning your head up to reach his ear, leaving a trail of kisses and bites behind as you did so.
"You know JB already broke right?" You whisper even though you knew he didn't, giggling when JJ’s head shoots back into place immediately. His ears excitedly perked up at your words like a golden retriever, eyebrows furrowed as if to ask if you were lying to him.
"Really?" His voice comes out forced, loosening his grip on your hand and letting it continue it's pursuit past the hem of his boxers. Sighing at the contact of your cold fingers against the steaming temperature of his skin when he lets you wrap your fingers around his base.
"Yup, Sarah just texted me and Cleo, she got him, you won Baby," Your sultry voice in his ear sends tingles all over his body, "Do you want your prize Daddy?"
“Oh, fuck yes I do.” JJ was on you in seconds, shoving you hard down against your soft bed, maneuvering your body around so he could slot himself between your thighs where he belongs. His hand fell between your bodies, carelessly tugging the hem of his boxers down just enough to let himself spring free, not caring to grab a condom in his haste. He quickly uses two fingers to tug your underwear aside before sinking into fully in one thrust, a broken, strangled sigh escaping his lips as he immediately sets a slow pace. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut above you causing a wide, triumphant smile to to grow across your face.
“Yeah I am not gon’ last long, fuck.” He whines, dropping his head to groan against the flesh of your neck. Your hands find hold on his shoulders as you dig your nails into his back, marking him and holding on to your release as it builds for the first time in days. His lips latch onto your skin forcing you to moan his name, his pace picks up while he pushes himself up on one hand beside your head wanting to watch your face when you come undone for him. His free hand runs it’s way down your side to grip your hip and hold you steady while he thrusts into you. You can feel him against you as you clench around him, earning a strangled mix between a moan and a groan from JJ’s throat, his thrusts stuttering slightly before he regains his composure. You can feel how close he is, his tip hitting just the right spot every time but becoming frantic while his mumbled words become slightly incoherent.
“If you let me cum inside I’ll buy you Plan B.” JJ huffed out above you, his eyebrows crinkling in concentration, trying to hold himself back, his blue eyes getting lost in yours again. He didn’t want to pull out, he had edged himself too much and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. His eyes fell to where you connected, watching the way his dick thrusted in and out of you making a mess on the sheets below. You sucked him in so perfectly that he wanted to stay inside forever.
“No shit, I know you will.” Your fingers melt into his hair, tugging his eyes back up to yours while you speak, “You can cum in me whenever you want Jay.” Your moan mingles with your words, accentuated by his final, hardest thrust before he stutters and twitches inside of you, collapsing on top pf you while his warm cum fills you and leaks past him onto the bed.
Your nails tickle against his back, your other hand playing with his hair, content while you stay connected as your breathing comes back to normal. JJ’s face rests in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as he wraps his arms around you fully. “I may have only lasted 12 days Mama, but I won us 40 bucks.”
“Okayyy but 12 days is still impressive for us,” You respond with a chuckle, tugging his hair to force eye contact with you, “It could have been day one Jay ya’ know.” He groans, his eyes fluttering shut again as his hands begin to run their way up his shirt you so often wear to bed, pinching at your hardening nipples and watching your eyebrows furrow in response.
“Round two?” JJ asks, biting at his lip and staring up at you with desperate eyes. You can feel his cock beginning to harden inside of you, your walls tightening around him at the feeling.
“Well you did say I could ride you Daddy.” Your voice comes out in a beg and you watch JJ’s face as it changes into a dominant scowl despite your growing smile. His jaw ticks and his tongue pushes his cheek out slightly at your words. JJ shoves himself off of you leaving you feeling empty while he settles on his knees. His dick bounces proudly in front of him as he tugs your panties down your legs before ridding himself of his own. You waste no time in removing your shirt and watching his mouth water at the sight of your bare chest as you tug yourself impatiently onto his lap.
You sink onto him, filling yourself up again with a sigh as his cock hits every spot perfectly. You bounce on him, setting a steady pace that your thighs can handle. JJ however, knows how much of a pillow princess you are, preemptively dragging his hands down your sides and to your hips, squeezing them lightly to let you know he can take over whenever you want. Your lips crash into JJ’s in a messy kiss, your tongues battle as your breath mixes. Moaning in each other’s mouths while your hands find perch on his shoulders.
JJ’s lips fall to your jaw, groaning into his kisses, nipping at your neck every time you speed up or slow down. You whine in his ear, your fingers finding his hair and tugging at it as you slow, telling him to take control of you completely. JJ’s wicked smirk widens, his hands tightening on your hips, his lips falling to suck your nipple into his mouth and swirl his tongue against it. His finger nails dig into your flesh as he starts to bounce you against his thighs, making you whine and grind into him further. “Faster Jay please.”
“You like that Princess?” JJ teases, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his cock at a faster pace, “Do you like ridin’ Papa Jay Sweetheart?” He coos, tilting his head to watch you bounce on him, matching the pace he set as he thrusts up into you.
————
I think JJ is definitely the typa guy who talks ab himself in the 3rd person during sex😂
Idk how yall feel about Papa Jay but😮💨😮💨
#smut#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#outer banks smut#jj outer banks#outer banks#obx smut#jj maybank#rudy pankow#obx season 4#obx#jj maybank fic#obx one shot#yn#jj maybank x yn#jj maybank x kook!reader
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Kinktober Day 4 - Brat Taming with Ryomen Sukuna
contains: nsfw content:(mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (reader giving), v brief breath play, no aftercare, this is consensual but it might seem dubcon at times so i'll say that just in case
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc:- 7.3k (sorry!)
an: if you saw this yesterday, tumblr ate most of it, so this is the proper version with the full 7k
The air was tight in the luxurious chambers, thick with the underlying current of power and danger that came with being near Sukuna. You knew it all too well, and still, today you chose to push the boundaries.
Maybe it was the way his attention had moved onto others, or maybe you just wanted to feel his power focused on you. Either way, your defiance had earned you more than a few sharp looks throughout the day.
He had been so patient at first, watching as you deliberately disobeyed his orders, meeting his gaze with a silent challenge in your eyes. It was a dangerous game, one which you knew would only end one way, but a small part of you relished it, even craved the inevitable punishment that would follow.
Piqued annoyance now danced in his expression as you stood before him in the dark-lit room. The light of the candles danced across his tattooed skin as he leaned back into the cushion, arms over his chest, eyes intent on him-like some sort of predator sizing his prey.
"You have been bold today, haven't you?" Sukuna said, his voice low and almost a purr, but beneath the smoothness lay a warning. Crimson eyes shone with something dark and predatory as he watched you with unsettling intensity.
You didn't move, not as your heart raced in your chest; your eyes still flashed defiance, though it wavered a little under his gaze. Sukuna noticed, of course-he noticed everything.
He laughed darkly, the sound rumbling through the room like distant thunder. "What's the matter? The little concubine thinks she can disobey her king?" His voice was thick with mockery, but beneath it lay an unmistakable edge of menace.
You still wouldn't back down, even as the chill ran down your spine. "I'm not scared of you," you said-the defiance in your voice, a lot stronger than the quiver in your chest.
His smirk only widened, eyes glinting in the low light. "Is that so?" He pushed off from the cushions, standing to his full height in a fluid-almost graceful-movement. Sukuna towered over you, the suffocating presence of his power that made the air around you thick and heavy.
He took a slow, deliberate step toward you, each step echoing in the chamber as he never so much as broke gaze with yours. “You forget your place, little one. And I think it’s about time I remind you exactly who you answer to.”
You swallowed hard but stood your ground, your heart pounding while he drew nearer. He was testing you now, pushing the limits of your defiance, testing how far you would go. But you couldn't halt the quickening of your pulse in anticipation, the thrill coursing through you despite the danger.
Sukuna stopped only a few millimetres away from you, his giant physique casting a shadow over your small frame. He cocked his head as he reached out, crimson eyes shining with dark humour, and brushed one of his hands against your cheek, the touch feather light, deceptive.
"You've been a brat all day," he mused, the soft low tone of his voice a direct contrast to the danger swimming inside him. "And I'm not fond of brats. You know that."
And before he could receive a reaction from you, the other hand shot out, clutching at your chin in a firm grip, making you look up at him. His touch wasn't gentle anymore; it was commanding, dominant, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.
"You really think you can challenge me?" His voice now a dark growl, his eyes narrowing as he watched you struggle to hold his gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, teasing, almost mocking, as he leaned down closer. "You forget who I am, don't you?"
You shivered, but the stubborn fire in your eyes remained, even as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb pressing against your lip until you parted them with a soft gasp; he smirked, clearly amused despite himself.
“I could break you,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous as his lips hovered just above yours. “Make you beg for me. But I can also make you wait… draw it out until you remember who’s in control.”
The heat between your bodies flared and he held you there, so close yet still out of reach. The tension was palpable, a heady mix of desire and fear as the resolve within you started to crumble under the fierce stare that bound you against your will to him.
When he finally moved, it was with brutal precision. Sukuna spun you around, pressing your front to the cool wall of the chamber with ease, one hand tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back slightly. "You wanted my attention, didn't you?" he said, his voice a dangerous whisper in your ear as his hot breath danced across your skin, his hand trailing down your back. “Well, now you have it.”
You gasped, your body arching instinctively into his touch as his hand slid lower, gripping your hips possessively. “Don’t think for a second that you can get away with this behaviour” he growled, his voice a dangerous promise as his fingers dug into your flesh.
Sukuna yanked your hips back against him, his body pressing firmly against yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re going to regret testing me,” he whispered darkly, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hand slid around to your front, teasing you just enough "Now," he growled huskily, the scent of dominance emanating s he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and nipping the sensitive skin there to set fireworks, something he could so easily do with a mere touch. "Beg me to put you back in your place."
You knew he was playing with you, waiting for you to submit again, but you couldn't help how your body betrayed you-the pooling of heat so low in your stomach as his words fired up something deep inside. Caged in his grip, cornered against the wall, you still couldn’t refrain from pushing once more.
“No.”
“No? Okay.” he chuckled darkly, his tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. “Strip.”
You briefly turned your head and looked at him, unsure and as you hesitated, he added with a wicked smirk, “Do it or I’ll do it for you.”
The thought of him tearing the delicate fabric from your body sent a thrill through you. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you felt the pull of his dominance wrapping around you like a shroud. Your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge, but a deeper part of you—a primal instinct—began to ache for his approval.
With a deep breath, you decided to relent, knowing that fighting him any longer would only provoke him further. You turned your back to him and slowly began to slide the silk off your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down your arms. The dress pooled at your feet, baring your skin to him. The cool air brushed against you, sending goosebumps cascading across your body as you stood looking vulnerable before him.
Yet despite that, his eyes never wavered to admire your body, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before but right now he didn’t seem the least bit interested.
You faced him, expecting praise or the usual good girl, but he said nothing. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, making your heart race with both anticipation and confusion. Sukuna’s gaze was piercing, roaming over your exposed form, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny igniting something deep within you—a desperate yearning for his approval.
You swallowed hard, the heat pooling in your stomach igniting a mixture of shame and desire. Sukuna was playing with you, aware of your need for his validation, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of submission and rebellion.
“Please,” you whispered, desperate to shift the balance back in your favour, to spark that glimmer of approval in his eyes. “I just wanted—”
“What?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. “Attention? Affection? Or perhaps you wanted to remind me how unruly you can be?”
The words were both exhilarating and terrifying, as you recognized the game he was playing. Sukuna knew exactly what you craved and was determined to toy with it, twisting your desires into something that left you vulnerable.
“You should know by now,” he continued, leaning closer until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “My favourite concubine doesn’t act like this.” he whispers as his hand cups your face. “She knows her place—knows how to please me.”
Your heart clenched at his words, the subtle reminder of your position stoking the embers of your longing. You craved his approval, his affection, and each taunt felt like a jagged edge against your pride. But the harder he pushed, the greater the need for his acknowledgment became.
"Look at you, practically begging for it," he teased, his voice low as his fingers brushed over the uncovered skin of you. "But you'll learn, in time, that defiance only leads to disappointment."
With a predatory grace, Sukuna shifted, his gaze never leaving yours as he sat down on the edge of his royal bed, the dark fabric of the covers contrasting sharply against his skin. The way he was sitting-relaxed, yet commanding-sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine.
"Come here," he ordered; it was an order reverberating with a sternness that was impossible to disregard. Your heart racing, you moved closer until the space between you two was charged with tension. "Get over my knee," he said, the corners of his mouth raising into a sly grin. The words were spoken as though this was a test, a test of how well you'd do.
The heat in your cheeks flared as you hesitated, caught between pride and the undeniable desire to submit. But the need for his approval was overwhelming, and as you moved closer, the thrill of obedience battled against your rebellious spirit.
Sukuna’s gaze held you captive, eyes glimmering with amusement as he patted his knee, the gesture both inviting and authoritative. “I won't ask twice," he warned, his voice low and full of promise.
You swallowed hard as you took a deep breath and realised it was your call. You leaned over reluctantly, laying across his lap and positioning yourself, your hands resting on the coolness of the sheets-a sharp contrast to the heat emitting from your body.
“There we go” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rested a hand on your back, keeping you in place.
As you settled over him, a rush of vulnerability coursed through you, yet beneath it lay a profound sense of longing for his approval, making it impossible to feel anything but exhilarated. In that moment, you knew there would be no escaping the power he held over you/
His hand travelled further up your thigh, fingers teasingly close to your ass but never quite crossing that line. It was an intentionally deliberate choice, placing you on edge, and you could feel that anticipation, coiling in your belly like a spring, ready to burst.
"Remember," he warned, his voice dropping to that low growl again, "Just because I'm kinder to you than the rest does not mean I won't punish disobedience." You swallowed hard as your heart began to pound with what was to come. You could feel the power dynamic shifting, the game the two of you were playing getting heavier with every passing second.
Sukuna's hand came down sharp against your ass, the loud smack reverberating through the room and slapping you back into reality. A gasp escaped your lips, half in surprise, half in delight at the sting that suddenly fired into your skin. It was a delicious concoction of pain and pleasure, which left you short of breath as you adjusted to the sensations that swirled around you.
"Count," he instructed, his voice firm, yet laced with underlying humour. "Loudly. I want to hear you."
"One," you exhaled the word as it tumbled from your lips, your heart racing wildly as you fought to steady it. The thrill of it all, mixed with your need for his approval, had you wanting each strike more than the last.
Sukuna's hand lingered on the curve of your ass for a moment before falling again in a sharp slap, the sound echoing off stone walls. You gasped again, a mixture of shock and thrill racing through you as the sting blossomed into a warm ache.
“Two,” you gasped, as you fought against the swell of emotions within you.
He lifted his hand, but this time he held back just before the strike, making you tense in anticipation. The sudden hesitation had you bracing for impact, but then he only gently smoothed his palm flat against your skin, teasing you with his warmth.
But before you could even acknowledge it, a sudden one came down on your other ass cheek.
“Three,” you managed to say, voice trembling slightly, the sensation catching you off guard as he switched up the rhythm.
“Good,” he replied, and the next strike came almost immediately after, catching you off guard. “Four!” you exclaimed, the sound of his hand meeting your skin sending shockwaves through your body.
He continued this pattern, alternating between sharp slaps and moments of tension where he would simply tease you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Sometimes, he would deliver a strike that felt harder than the last, and other times he’d pull back, letting you feel only the ghost of his hand as your body quivered in anticipation.
You felt yourself teetering on the brink of overwhelming sensations as you counted up to ten, each strike igniting a fiery mixture of pleasure and pain that coursed through your body. Each impact left you breathless, the rhythm of his hand striking you creating a melody of desire that echoed in your mind.
“Eleven” you finally gasped, the word escaping your lips as you savoured the ache that lingered in your skin.
Sukuna paused, letting the silence stretch between you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, assessing and possessive. The air was thick with tension, and you could sense the power dynamics shifting once more.
“Are you sorry?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, sending a thrill down your spine.
You bit your lip, a mix of defiance and longing swirling within you as you processed his question. The sharp sting of his earlier strikes still pulsed against your skin. The heat emanating from your skin, a reminder of your rebelliousness, yet the way he held you—firm, possessive—made your heart race with exhilaration.
“Sorry?” you repeated, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. You could see the smirk playing on his lips, the amusement dancing in his eyes. The challenge was palpable; he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge your submission in a way that would give him satisfaction. Yet all that came out of your mouth was…
“I don’t know yet-”
“Do you even know what you want?” he pressed, his voice smooth and taunting. “Because I can give you everything, but you seem intent on making this harder for yourself.”
“Do you want my approval?” he asked, his voice a sultry caress that made your heart race. The question hung between you, laden with implications that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know I could give it to you if you just admit what you truly want.”
As if sensing the conflict within you, he slowly guided you off his lap, the absence of his warmth leaving you yearning for more. You hesitated for a moment, caught in the limbo of desire and pride, before he leaned back slightly, a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, the authority in his voice making it impossible to resist.
The command was a double-edged sword, igniting a rush of eagerness and vulnerability in your chest. There was something intoxicating about being at his mercy, and even as the thought of submission sent pangs of uncertainty through you, the need for his love and approval surged stronger than your pride.
You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze heavy on you as you knelt before him, the coolness of the floor contrasting sharply with the warmth that enveloped your body. Sukuna watched you, a predator sizing up his prey, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny as you knelt there, heart racing and breath shallow.
“Good girl” he praised, the words wrapping around you like silk, soothing yet igniting a fire in your core. “This is where you belong—submissive, yearning for my affection.” His voice was low and sultry, and you could hear the satisfaction lacing his tone as he took in your posture, his eyes gleaming with approval. “But you have to earn it. Tell me what you want.”
You hesitated, the vulnerability of your position mingling with your desire to please him. “I want… I want your approval,” you murmured, the admission spilling from your lips almost involuntarily. “Your love”
His smirk widened, revealing a hint of satisfaction that made your heart flutter. “And how do you plan to earn it?” he asked, his voice smooth and seductive, coaxing you into deeper submission. “Show me how desperate you really are for my love.”
With deliberate slowness, he shrugged off his robe, letting the luxurious fabric cascade down his broad shoulders and pool around his waist. The movement revealed the powerful contours of his body, muscles coiling under his skin, each movement exuding confidence and dominance. You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in your throat as you drank in the sight of him—strikingly captivating and impossibly alluring. His cock sprung free, dauntingly big, thick and girthy with a prominent vein running along the underside of it.
As you positioned yourself at his feet, your heart raced with anticipation. You looked up at him, and in that moment, you could see the mixture of dominance and desire reflected in his gaze. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and the thought of it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you.
“Go on,” he urged, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “show me just how much you crave my approval.” The challenge ignited something deep within you, urging you to submit fully to his will.
You reached forward, taking his cock in your hand at first, feeling the heat radiate from it as your fingers wrapped around his length. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, awakening every nerve ending and amplifying the intensity of your need. You could feel his gaze boring into you, an intoxicating mix of desire and power, and the weight of it only fueled your eagerness.
Sukuna watched you intently, his expression a mixture of approval and amusement as you began to stroke him slowly.
You leaned in closer, your breath hitching as you pressed soft kisses along his shaft, savouring the taste of his skin and the intoxicating musk that enveloped you. With each kiss, you felt a thrill of exhilaration at your submission, and the thought of earning his approval made you more eager to please.
“Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice low and demanding.
You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, and it spurred you on as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him with fervent devotion. Every now and then you’d pull back and focus on the tip, only to resume taking his cock in as deep as you could, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—his dominance and your willingness to submit completely to him.
As you continued, you could feel his hand find its way to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he guided your movements, controlling the pace with a delicious authority. The mix of his control and your surrender sent waves of heat pooling in your core, and you could feel the ache of longing building within you.
The warmth of his body radiated against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you as you leaned in further, taking him deeper. Each careful stroke of your tongue was met with a soft, approving grunt from Sukuna, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with just the right amount of pressure. You revelled in the way he took charge, the way he made you feel both desired and utterly submissive.
“Such a good little pet,” he praised, his voice smooth yet commanding, sending tremors of excitement through you. “You’re desperate for my touch, aren’t you?”
You couldn’t deny it, the words igniting something primal within you, and you nodded as best you could with him filling your mouth. The mixture of your eagerness and his control heightened the stakes, pushing you to give him everything you had.
His hips shifted slightly, guiding your rhythm as he pressed deeper, the sensation making your head spin. You could feel the tension building within you, a mix of longing and excitement as you became more attuned to his desires. The slick warmth of your mouth enveloped him, and each movement you made was deliberate, an offering of your devotion.
“More,” he demanded, his voice thick with pleasure as he tilted his head back slightly. “I want to hear you.”
You moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his skin, eliciting another low growl from deep within him. The noise made your core throb with need, the desperate ache for him only growing stronger as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your actions.
He couldn’t help but want to set the pace himself, the next time you went to pull back, he guided your head further, forcing you to take him deeper until your nose was pressed up against his pubes. You sputtered, unable to stop yourself from gagging as he held you there for a moment before pulling back and letting you pull off and catch your breath. You coughed a little, a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your lips.
His hand tightened in your hair, gently pulling your head up for a moment so he could meet your gaze. “Look at me,” he commanded, his eyes darkened with lust and satisfaction. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”
As you surrendered fully to him, the heat pooling in your core became unbearable, a delicious reminder of just how much you craved his approval. The world outside faded further, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you—his power and your submission—and you knew that you would do anything to keep that connection alive.
You gazed up at him, his commanding presence making your heart race. As you took him deeper, this time by your own choice, a rush of exhilaration surged through you, and with a playful impulse, you let your teeth graze lightly against his length. The sensation was meant to tease, to elicit a reaction, but the moment you did, a sharp intake of breath escaped him, followed by a sudden yank of your hair that pulled you away.
Sukuna’s eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and warning, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours like a steel trap. “What did I say about behaving?” His voice was low, tinged with authority, but there was an unmistakable edge of desire laced within it. You felt a thrill race through you, the tension in the air thickening.
You looked up at him, trying to read the storm brewing in his eyes. His grip on your hair was firm yet controlled, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sharpness of his warning sent a jolt through you, igniting a mix of fear and excitement.
“I... I’m sorry,” you stammered, your breath shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Do that once more and I won’t touch you again, I’ll give you to one of my men. Do you want that?”
The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, a reminder of the stakes involved. You could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a deep-seated need for his approval. The thought of disappointing him was far more terrifying than the idea of punishment.
“Now,” he said, releasing his hold on your hair but still leaning forward, his presence overwhelming, “Show me that you can be the good girl I know you can be.” There was an edge to his tone that made your stomach flip, a challenge wrapped in a promise.
Nodding slightly, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the delicate balance you had to maintain. You could do this. You could earn his affection and approval. You leaned in closer once more, eyes locked onto his, feeling the pulse of desire thrumming between you.
With renewed determination, you took him back into your mouth, moving slowly at first, allowing your tongue to swirl around him in languid strokes. You could feel the tension in the air, the silent understanding that every movement you made was a testament to your willingness to submit completely to him. You focused on doing it right, savouring the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched as you worked your mouth around him.
You couldn’t help but grin slightly as you ran your tongue along his shaft.
“You think this is funny?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips with a possessive touch. “You think you’re in control here?” The amusement in his voice was gone, replaced with a low, simmering intensity that made your pulse quicken.
Before you could respond, Sukuna yanked you up, pulling you to your feet with a force that left your heart racing. He spun you around again, pressing your back against the wall, his chest flush against your front as his hands roamed over your body. The roughness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin tingling with the mix of pleasure and dominance that radiated from him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on to that defiance,” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the full weight of his cock pressing against your stomach. “You’ll break eventually. You always do.”
Your body responded instinctively to his dominance as you clenched your thighs together. Sukuna was testing your limits, pushing you to the brink of submission, and you knew that the game you had started was far from over. The tension between you crackled like electricity, the air thick with the promise of what was to come.
He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand as his other hand travelled down your body, his touch rough and demanding. His smirk widening as he saw the way your chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, your defiance crumbling under the weight of his dominance.
"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "To be at my mercy? To feel my power over you?"
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with desire as Sukuna’s fingers danced over across your breasts, playfully rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them slightly, teasing you but never giving you the satisfaction you craved. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him, the control he held over you absolute.
"You don’t get to decide when I reward you," he grumbled, "I do."
Sukuna’s hand tightened around your wrists, his grip firm but not painful as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me who you belong to," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, filled with an authority that made your heart race.
You swallowed hard, your defiance wavering under the weight of his dominance. "You," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. "I belong to you."
Sukuna’s lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and demanding, filled with the intensity of his dominance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, pulling a moan from your throat as he claimed your mouth with brutal precision. His hands explored your curves, gripping your hips, your thighs, your ass that was still sore, as if he was staking his claim on every inch of you.
With each deliberate breath, you steadied yourself, your heart racing as you mentally prepared for the brutal onslaught of his strength. You knew what was coming—the way he would thrust into you with a force that left you gasping, the raw power behind every movement. The pleasure and pain that would mingle into a heady mixture, overwhelming your senses until there was nothing left but him.
The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for the release you knew only Sukuna could give. His fingers trailed down your back, a possessive touch that claimed you inch by inch, as if reminding you that you were his to do with as he pleased.
And then, without warning or any preparation he thrust into you with a brutal force that knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands clung to his shoulders, struggling to maintain your balance as Sukuna’s body slammed into yours, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the chamber.
You were thankful that seeing him like this had you already soaked, else that stretch would’ve been a lot more painful with his size.
He didn’t hold back. Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping. The intensity of it was overwhelming, his movements claiming you completely, pushing you past the point of pleasure and into a realm where pain and ecstasy became one.
Your body rocked against the wall, your breath coming in ragged, desperate pants as Sukuna’s pace only quickened. The sheer force of his movements left you clinging to the stone for support, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. He hooked a hand under your leg as he lifted you up slightly to get a better angle, your walls clenching around his cock every time he drove it in.
"Look at you," he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Already falling apart."
His hand tightened on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. "You’re my favourite," he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. "So don’t give me reason to neglect you."
Every punishing thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, building higher and higher until it was almost too much to bear. The heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect, brutal sync, the rhythm of your connection raw and primal.
"You feel that?" Sukuna’s voice was a low, dangerous growl in your ear as he brought his other hand to your belly, his hand over the bulge he was causing. "You will never feel this anywhere else.”
He drove into you with even greater force, his body demanding your submission with every movement. And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch inside you, your mind blanked, consumed by the sheer intensity of what he was doing to you.
Sukuna’s thrusts became more brutal, more relentless with each passing second. The intensity of his movements left you breathless, your body barely able to keep up with the raw, savage force of him. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your back, and his hand on your leg, the only thing holding you upright as Sukuna claimed you with an aggression that sent shivers through your entire being.
His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, pulling you into him with every movement, demanding your full surrender. The overwhelming pleasure mingled with a burning ache that left you trembling, each sensation more intense than the one before.
"Is this what you wanted?" Sukuna growled, his voice thick with both anger and lust. "You wanted to test me? Thought you could defy me, hmm?"
His tone was sharp, laced with danger, and each word only made your pulse race faster. You could feel the fury in his movements, the way he drove into you with a punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. Your mind spun, the pleasure so overwhelming it was hard to think straight, but through the haze of sensation, you realised the truth: you’d pushed him too far.
"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of his body slamming into yours. "I'm sorry, Sukuna… I didn’t mean—"
Before you could finish, he thrust into you harder, his hand yanking your hair back so that your head snapped up, forcing you to meet his eyes as he leaned over you. His gaze burned with fury and satisfaction, and the sight of it made your stomach flip.
"Oh, you’re sorry now, are you?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "Begging for forgiveness already? Pathetic."
His hips slammed into yours again, the brutal pace leaving you reeling, the sheer force of his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your fingers digging into the stone wall as you tried to brace yourself against the onslaught of pleasure and pain.
"Please," you gasped, your voice trembling as his relentless thrusts made it hard to speak. "I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to—"
But Sukuna wasn’t interested in your apologies. If anything, your desperate pleas only seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hand snaked around your throat, gripping it just tightly enough to make you aware of his control, his dominance over you absolute.
"You think I care about your sorry little words?" Sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think an apology is going to stop me now?"
His grip on your neck tightened just enough to make your breath hitch, and you could feel your body responding, the ache between your legs growing more intense with every punishing thrust. His pace was faster now, the rhythm of his hips brutal, leaving you no time to catch your breath as he took you harder, faster.
Your body was on fire, each thrust pushing you further into a dizzying spiral of pleasure that made it impossible to think of anything but him. Every time you tried to form words, they were swallowed by gasps and cries of pleasure, your mind barely able to keep up with the sheer intensity of what Sukuna was doing to you.
"I’m sorry," you whimpered again, your voice breaking as he pounded into you, the force of his movements overwhelming every sense. "I… I won’t disobey again… I promise…"
Sukuna’s hand moved from your throat to your waist, pulling you back into him with a bruising grip as he sped up even more, the wet sound of your bodies crashing together filling the air. His breathing was ragged now, and you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his body enveloped you, completely dominating you.
"Is that so?" he snarled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he drove into you harder. "You’re sorry now… but it’s too late for that."
His hips slammed into yours with a ferocity that made your legs shake, your entire body trembling as he took you mercilessly. You could barely keep yourself upright, every muscle in your body tensing with the effort of staying grounded under the relentless onslaught of his thrusts, your pussy welcoming him in with every movement of his cock, it was embarrassing how much your body betrayed you.
"I’ll make sure you remember this," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as his pace became almost punishing. "Next time you think about disobeying me, you’ll remember exactly what happens."
Sukuna's grip tightened as he drove into you with merciless abandon, his pace unrelenting as your body quaked beneath him. The overwhelming sensation was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing in anticipation of release. But just as you felt that familiar surge of pleasure coil tighter, ready to snap, Sukuna suddenly pulled back, leaving you teetering on the brink, your pussy clenching around nothing at the loss.
Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure was ripped away from you. He slowed his movements, rolling his hips with an agonisingly deliberate pace, teasing you with just enough sensation to keep you trembling but never enough to send you over.
"S-Sukuna," you gasped, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for the release that had been so cruelly denied. "Please... please, I—"
He cut you off with a low, mocking laugh, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still, his chest pressed against your back. The heat of his body was suffocating, his presence overwhelming as he leaned down to speak directly into your ear.
"You really think you deserve to come after all that?" he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "After the way you acted? You don’t get to have what you want."
You whimpered again, your body trembling with frustration as Sukuna slowed his thrusts to a maddening crawl, each movement deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge without ever granting you the release you so desperately craved.
His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, spreading you wider as he pushed his cock deeper inside, filling you completely with slow, torturous strokes. Your breath came in shallow gasps, every nerve in your body strung tight with anticipation, but no matter how hard you tried to chase that elusive climax, Sukuna remained in control.
"I’m the one who decides when you get to come," he growled, his voice dark and commanding. "And you haven’t earned it today."
He increased the pace only slightly, enough to send another wave of pleasure through you, but still holding you just at the edge of satisfaction. You could feel him nearing his own release, his breathing becoming heavier, his thrusts more forceful, but even as his body tensed with his impending climax, he refused to let you finish.
"Look at you," he mocked, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Begging for something you’re not even worthy of."
Sukuna’s rhythm grew faster, his hips snapping into you with an intensity that sent you reeling. The heat between your bodies built to a fever pitch, his ragged breaths mingling with your gasps as you clung to the edge of control. You could feel yourself spiralling toward the brink of release, your entire body tensing, desperate to fall over that edge. But just as the pleasure began to crest, Sukuna let out a low, guttural growl, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak.
With one last deep thrust, he groaned, his body stilling as he spilled into you, his grip on your hips tightening with possessive force. His cum shot out, thick streams of white painting your walls, a neverending load it felt like with how prolonged it was. His breath came in hot, uneven pants against your skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his climax. You could feel the heat of him inside you, the weight of his release, but the moment your own release seemed within reach, Sukuna stopped moving completely.
You whimpered, the need still burning fiercely in your core, your body quaking with the intensity of being left teetering on the edge. You tried to grind against him, desperate for that final push, but his hands clamped down on your hips, holding you in place. The realisation hit you hard — he really wasn’t going to let you finish.
"Sukuna... please," you gasped, your voice strained, body trembling with unfulfilled need. "I-I need to—"
He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look down at you, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, you thought I’d change my mind?" His voice was thick with amusement, utterly unapologetic. "Not this time."
You moaned in frustration, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of his rough pace, the pleasure so close yet just out of reach. Sukuna’s grip on your hips remained firm as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.
"You're lucky I let you have this much," he growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Maybe next time you’ll think twice before misbehaving."
He pulled out slowly, his absence leaving you feeling unbearably empty, your body still throbbing with unsatisfied need. He watched you squirm beneath him, clearly revelling in your frustration, a twisted smile playing on his lips.
Sukuna’s dark chuckle echoed in the room as he loomed over you, watching the frustration play across your features. You could feel your body trembling with the intensity of everything left unresolved, a quiet whine escaping your throat as you tried, one last time, to reach for him. But before you could make any move, he shifted, his hand coming to rest atop your head.
The touch was shockingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness you’d just endured, as he stroked your hair almost… fondly. You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face, but Sukuna’s expression was one of twisted amusement.
"Don’t pout," he murmured, still smirking as he patted your head in that condescending way. "I’m not so heartless as to leave you completely unsatisfied." His voice dripped with mockery, but there was an underlying promise there—something dark and teasing.
You bit your lip, your heart still racing, unsure what he meant. Did he intend to give you an orgasm after all? Yet instead of returning his hands to your body, he let them slide away, leaving you even more bewildered.
With a casual shrug, Sukuna stood, towering over you, clearly savouring the sight of your needy, trembling form sprawled before him. As he moved toward the door, you caught his last remark.
"I’ll let you sleep in my chambers tonight," he tossed over his shoulder, his tone almost dismissive. "Consider that a kindness."
His words hung in the air, thick with his typical arrogance. Sleeping in his chambers meant you’d be close, within reach of him, and perhaps he’d allow more later. But it also meant the control still belonged to him, and you would have to wait, to endure.
He looked back at you once more, that cruel, satisfied grin still etched on his face. "See? I’m not entirely heartless," he teased, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you to gather yourself, the heat of your desire still thrumming in your veins. His presence lingered even after he was gone, the promise of what might come next hanging over you like a heavy, tantalising shadow.
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Save a Horse
Tyler Owens x fem!reader
summary: you and your best friend, Tyler decided to test the waters and take your friendship to the next level, unbeknownst to the both of you that you’re in love with each other.
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)
The bar was hazy when Tyler walked into it, a line dance already in formation. He didn’t even want to be there, but he was trying to make himself actually get out there again. He hadn’t been on a date in what felt like ages, so he was a little rusty, but a few beers should have fixed that. Despite his looks, he wasn’t very good with the ladies. Any time he would try to flirt, it came off offensive or borderline sexist because he got a little too cocky. But this was his night. He was desperate to get laid, his hand no longer doing the job.
He made a beeline for the bar and ordered a beer, surveying the area for whoever he was going to take home for the night. There were a lot of pretty women and he was trying not to be picky. This was just to get him back out there. The sex didn’t have to be good and it certainly didn’t have to mean anything.
His eyes locked on a pretty blonde that was on the other side of the bar, barely visible through all of the dancing bodies. She was already staring him down, sipping on a drink with a straw and Tyler was wondering what else she was willing to suck on. He downed half of his beer and made a beeline for her, trying to go around the dancing crowd so as to not get caught in it.
But then he heard something, someone who stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to the left and sure enough, there you were, arguing with someone like you always seemed to be doing.
You were beautiful. So much so that he couldn’t help but stare. You were dressed in a black tank top that was tucked into a pair of very short denim shorts and a pair of black cowboy boots were on your feet. Before he could stop himself, his feet were gaining a mind of their own as they carried him over to you.
He finally stood at your side, but you were paying him no attention, your argument with the stranger still going strong. You looked seconds away from pulling out your earrings and hitting the man. And as much as Tyler knew he should have stopped you, he kind of wanted to see you do it. You had a bad temper you never took out on anyone who didn’t deserve it.
“I don’t understand why you won’t just give me a chance,” the man said. That seemed to unleash something in you because you stepped closer to him, nothing but fire in your eyes. Tyler wasn’t a fan of how he still found you so hot when you got angry. The way your eyes would be filled with fire and your nose would twitch and your mouth would twist as you were trying to decide what you were going to say next.
There were so many times where he wanted to kiss you when he had done something to upset you. Clearly nothing had changed since he was staring directly at your mouth, watching your lips move. They were painted with a red gloss, making them even more inviting. But nothing was coming out of them. The place was loud but not loud enough to where he couldn’t hear what you were saying when you were only like a foot away from him.
“Maybe because you slapped my ass?” You replied, surely seconds away from beating this guy up. Tyler’s eyes widened, hurrying to stand beside you before he could stop himself.
“You did what?” He asked in shock.
“You bent over to grab a pool ball that fell off the table and you’re saying I wasn’t supposed to smack it?” Tyler cracked his knuckles, wanting to hit the guy himself.
“Yes,” you and Tyler replied in unison. You turned to him and he looked good. Almost too good. The scruff on his face did him well and the cowboy hat on top of his head looked far better than it should have. His white t-shirt clung to his body and you hated how much his jeans hugged his waist.
You wanted him, and bad. So much so that the man had been the starring lead in your fantasies that you had come up with every night before you went to bed. You had been in love with him for years, wondering why you hadn’t asked him out when you had the chance. He was so sweet and caring and you wished that you had been the one he had flirted with when he had a few drinks in him.
“And who are you?” Tyler asked, draping an arm over your shoulder. You loved when he got like this, all authoritative, taking control of the situation. If it had been up to you, you would have taken him right then and there.
“Who are you?” The man replied as it he had the right to be angry with either of you. Tyler felt the need to protect you, even though he knew you didn’t need saving. He just wanted to drape his arm over your shoulder to let everyone know you were his.
Well, that was what he wanted you to be. You had never gotten to that point and it was all his fault. He had been too afraid to make your friendship something more. He was stuck in the friendzone where he had put himself for years, kicking himself for not asking you out the first night he met you.
“I’m her boyfriend so I suggest you move along before I have Enrique throw you out.” You could take care of yourself just fine, but something about Tyler always jumping in to protect you always made you feel a little wet in your panties.
The man just muttered something under his breath before turning away, not wanting to get kicked out again. With him gone, you turned on your heel, heading back to the bar to order a much needed shot with Tyler hot on your heels.
Tyler couldn’t help but let his eyes drop to your ass, and watching it move as you walked in your tight shorts was torture to the man. He always found himself wanting to get a handful for himself, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he kissed you until you were breathless, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’d let out a loud moan and he’d grab you by the backs of your legs, helping you wrap them around him-
You stopped at the bar and ordered a drink before turning to face Tyler as shots of tequila were set on the bar, as if the bartender could read your mind. You reached for both and handed one of them to your best friend.
“Drink up, Owens,” you nudged him and you both downed the shots, feeling it burn all the way down. You both slammed the empty glasses down on the bar and you eyed him, wondering what he would have said if you had invited him to the bathroom right that second.
There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. A look that you didn’t recognize in any way, shape or form. They were soft and sweet, just like you remembered. In that moment, you could feel your anger towards him falling away. You could never be mad at him for too long, especially not when you looked into those beautiful green eyes and this time, you could tell that he wasn’t trying to use that to his advantage.
“Thank you for that,” you said, nodding your head towards where you both had just been. “And to thank you, I’m adding your drinks to my tab.”
“That’s real sweet, darlin’, but you don’t need to thank me.” That nickname always managed to make you absolutely melt, loving the way it fell from his lips so naturally. “Just your friendship is enough,” he winked.
“Oh, shut up,” you went to shove his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it.
“Alright,” he took another sip of his beer. “Dance with me,” he said, tilting his head up a little.
“Dance with you?” You had no idea what he was talking about, wondering if he was expecting you to read his mind. If you had been able to do that, you definitely wouldn’t have been working at the bar part-time.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dance with me as your thank you.” He couldn’t be serious.
“Yeah, not happening,” you shook your head. One thing you didn’t do under any circumstances was dance. A ballet recital gone wrong when you were ten made you swear off the activity entirely, never wanting to be embarrassed like that again.
“No way.”
“Fine,” he took another sip of his beer. “Then I’ll just dance by myself.” He slowly headed to the dancefloor, giving you every opportunity to back out if you didn’t want to do it. His hand moved back, his palm facing you as he continued to head to the dance floor, wiggling his digits to get your attention.
You rolled your eyes even though his back was to you and reluctantly put your hand in his. Tyler pulled you out onto the makeshift dance floor and the two of you somehow ended up directly in the center. He was able to quickly pick up the routine while you were left to flounder, moving awkwardly because of your hands that were still attached.
You watched him move so effortlessly, feeling odd being right next to him since you were always there on the sidelines when he was a part of it. He’d smile at you as you sat at the bar, waving you over, but you always shook your head. But now that you were finally dancing with him, he was hoping that it could become a regular thing.
He liked the way your shoulders would brush when you moved the wrong way and the way you’d squeeze his hand to communicate that you were nervous. You turned the way that you thought you were supposed to go but ended up bumping into Tyler, nothing but a chuckle falling from his lips as he looked down at you.
“Follow me, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “Turn around.” You did as he asked and turned around, your back facing him. His hands slowly moved up to your waist, letting them make a home there. He had touched you there multiple times when he had hugged you, but this was entirely different. So close to the way you had wanted him to touch you, but not nearly enough.
“Do you trust me?” He asked, his lips right by the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Of course you trusted him. Maybe more than you should have.
“Of course,” you responded with a nod.
“Follow my lead, darlin’.” It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. Like he knew the exact effect he had on you. But he had too, right? This was all an elaborate way to get you to admit that you had feelings for him. Well, two could play that game.
You kept in rhythm with him, slowly but surely backing up to him, your ass right up against his crotch. You gingerly began to grind on the spot, resisting the urge to turn and see his reaction. You could tell he was enjoying it just by the way his fingers were digging into your waist.
You moved the two of you out of the way of the dancers and continued to grind on Tyler, your movements still slow, but harder now. You could hear his breathing pick up, feeling his nose brush your jaw, his breath on your neck sending another chill up your spin.
He never thought the two of you would be dancing like this, the movements so sensual and sexy. You knew exactly what you were doing and it was fucking unfair. He could feel his cock hardening and pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.
“This isn’t the right dance,” he chuckled.
“I know,” you nodded. “But don’t you like this more, Owens? I can feel you getting hard.” Just when you were going to really take it home, you were suddenly turned around, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden movement. Your hands landed on his chest and Tyler’s hands rested on your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible.
You leaned closer to him, your lips brushing his and the man was convinced he was a goner. He could feel your gloss that had transferred to his own lips and wanted it other places, anywhere you could get your lips. He loved the idea of being covered in your kisses, the prints leaving your mark behind.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sugar,” he said, his voice low, raspy. And it was doing wonders for you. He was so hot and you were having a hard time not making a move anymore.
“Oh, I fully intend on finishing,” you responded, finally pressing your lips to his. His eyes widened at your actions, but he was quick to melt into you, his lips catching yours slowly.
His arms wrapped around your waist even tighter, pulling you as close to him as possible. Yours wrapped around his neck, your hands running through his hair at the back of his head.
Your head felt like it was swimming, his lips more soft than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like the beer he had been drinking, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite make out. It was sweet and sour.
You pulled away before it could get too heated and Tyler admired the lip gloss that had smeared across your face, very tempted to go back in for more. His thumb swiped across your cheek to help get rid of it, but that didn’t seem to help, only smearing it further.
The weight of what you had done was catching up to you. You had just kissed your best friend. You had just kissed your best friend and you liked it. You had only gotten a taste but now you wanted more. All of him. You wanted to finally make your fantasies a reality.
And you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that without completely complicating your friendship and you really liked what the two of you had. It was really nice at first, to have a friend without all of the “feelings” bullshit, but now you had actually fallen for him. And hard.
“Fuck,” the word fell from Tyler’s lips, his voice somehow getting even more raspy, making you even more wet. God, you really were fucked, and not in the way you wanted to be.
“Do you wanna take this out to my truck?” You asked, your hands lazily moving up and down his back.
“I’d love to take this out to your truck,” he replied, pressing his lips to yours before paying your bills and leading you out of the bar, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.
You rifled through your purse, looking for your keys and found them before unlocking your truck. Tyler opened the driver’s seat door for you before helping you into it. He then closed the door and rounded the hood before getting into his own seat.
You peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road, thankful for how late it was so there was little traffic. Your heart pounded as you pulled into what looked like an abandoned parking lot.
Why you were scared of what you were about to do, you didn’t know. Tyler was sweet and you knew that he would do whatever he could to make you comfortable. He was nothing but a sweetheart and would make you feel good, stopping at nothing to do so.
You put the car in park and turned it off before turning toward Tyler. You stared at each other, the only thing that could be heard was the radio playing a soft country song. You turned the volume up to attempt to drown out your thoughts. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know, but you were fully prepared to dive right in.
Tyler reached out, placing a hand on your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his lips ghosting over yours, almost as if he was afraid to go for it. That confidence from the bar completely evaporated into the air.
You took the lead, pressing your lips to his, your movements more rushed and rough as you nipped at his bottom lip. He let out a little whine and that was enough to make you absolutely soaked.
Rain pattered against the car as you slotted your lips together once more before pulling away. You climbed over the center console and placed yourself into his lap, straddling him.
Tyler looked up at you, his pupils blown and his lips smeared with your lipgloss. It was an adorable sight and you hated how good he looked in that goddamn hat. You took the hat off of his head and put it on your own, moving your head this way and that, modeling it for him.
“How do I look?” You asked, turning your head to the side and he just laughed.
“You look good,” he nodded.
“As good as you?”
“Even better,” he replied, pulling you in for another kiss, removing the hat from your head and setting it on the driver’s seat.
He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours and a moan fell from your lips at the sensation. His hands slipped into your back pockets, giving your ass a squeeze and you gasped into his mouth which only made him do it again.
You began to grind against him as your tongues tangled together and you could hear a groan in the back of his throat. The whole thing was overstimulating for him, there was no way he was going to ask you to stop any time soon.
Your hands rested on his chest as you kissed him, this one slow and gentle, as if you two had all the time in the world, and right there, in that abandoned parking lot, you did. Your tongues tangled as you continued to grind into him, your underwear getting soaked as you felt his dick forming a tent in his pants.
Tyler’s hands moved to your shorts as you reached down on the side of the seat in search of the lever that leaned it back. You found it with ease and leaned the chair back as far as it would go as you let Tyler take what he wanted from you, you pliant to his every move.
You both struggled to pull down your shorts, laughing because of how small the space was. Maybe there was a reason why neither of you ever did this kind of thing. He got them down to your ankles and you moved so he could take off his jeans, his belt buckle making a clattering noise as it hit the tops of his boots.
You both removed your shirts and Tyler eyed the black lacy number you were wearing. His hand moved up to run over the fabric of the tops of the cups, his fingers brushing your skin every so slightly.
“Like what you see?” You asked, leaning down a little so he could get a better look at your cleavage. And you had him right where you wanted him, catching him staring right at it. You scooted up so that they were right in front of his face and he brought his lips to the skin, pressing a soft to it.
He then moved up, his lips now connected with your neck, his tongue swiping back and forth as he began to suck. You moved your head to give him more access and that caused him to nip at your skin, another gasp falling from your lips.
“So good,” you moaned, your eyes shutting. He continued to work, having every intention of creating a hickey right there underneath your ear. He licked and sucked, pulling the most delicious moans from your mouth.
To test the water, he grazed the skin with his teeth and you moaned loudly, reaching your orgasm. God, you were so fucking hot, the way you were able to make the most pretty sounds and look pretty while doing it. The sweat already forming on your skin, making you look absolutely irresistible.
You helped him get his underwear down and realized there was no going back as he cock sprang free from it. It was hard as a rock and probably the biggest you had ever seen. Who knew that your best friend was packing so much? Clearly you didn’t.
You pulled a condom from your purse and rolled it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of it, both of you moving awkwardly as you got used to each other in that way. Your hands rested on his shoulder as his head went to your waist, helping you move, riding him slowly.
You picked up the pace, and Tyler couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself getting close just by looking at you. The cause of his wet dreams right on top of him, almost convincing him that he had been in one.
He let out a moan of his own and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you did so. You had barely even done anything as he already looked blissed out. This had to be a record. Knowing that you could do that to someone gave you so much power and you got more confident, moving as fast and as hard as you could.
Tyler let out another moan, his own scream climbing up his throat, his fingers digging into your waist, surely forming bruises. His head was back against the headrest, his eyes shut tight as another scream ripped through him, his breathing labored.
His hands moved up your back, his nails gliding down it, leaving scratches and your back arched at the movement, reaching your own orgasm. But you stayed there, seeing if you could get one more from him before taking a break before going for round two.
“Holy shit,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing,” he said through breaths.
His hands scratched up your back as you watched him, seeing that he was close again. A final loud moan fell from his lips and you slowed down your pace but kept moving, another orgasm rolling through you.
You sat there, staring at each other, your chests rising and falling as you did so. You never thought you would have ever gotten to that place with Tyler, but there you were, sitting on top of his dick, having just had the best sex of your life. And it hadn't even lasted that long.
“I have an idea. And hear me out, okay?” He asked, his hands moving up and down your arms lazily.
“Okay.”
“What if-what I want you to be the only one I sleep with?” Your eyes widened at his words, but you had to admit that you loved the idea. There was no way you could fuck anyone else after that. He had ruined you for any other man.
“Oh, so like friends with benefits?” So you didn’t understand. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted you to be his. Solely exclusive with him. His girlfriend. The one he went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning.
“I love you, y/n,” he said, sitting up, taking you into his arms, looking you in the eyes so you knew he was serious. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned on telling you, but he supposed that this was a good a time as any.
“I love you too, Tyler,” you replied, pressing your lips to his, this kiss sweeter than the others, both of you smiling into it. “Be mine?”
“Oh, darlin’,” he let out a chuckle, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I always was.”
#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x fem!reader#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x you#tyler owens smut#tyler owens fluff
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I've seen a lot of people take scar's "what happened in third life?" question and interpret it as scar not remembering third life—which makes for a very fun idea
however, I'd like to offer:
scar and grian’s entire interaction is the two of them trying to gauge where they stand with one another. grian’s hesitant “…just like in third life” is a silent question, both trying to discern if scar remembers the desert, and how he feels about it. it’s his hesitant foot forward
scar remembers third life—of course he does. he knew so many of the answers to the questions. he remembers every little detail of that game, because it was probably where he was happiest
he only asks grian “what happened in third life?” because it's a test. he's testing the waters between them, now standing as two victors on equal footing, equal ground. he plays dumb because it's scar, and he never shows every card in his hand, every trick up his sleeve. before scar takes any kind of step forward, he needs to know how grian will explain the desert, what he’ll say about it.
he asks “what happened in third life?” but there’s more questions lying in it. “do you still care?” “am I safe to trust you with my heart?” “did it mean something to you?”
scar is sneaky like that, subtle, as he pretends he doesn’t know or doesn’t remember. he needs to see what grian’s reaction is before they take up their dance again
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star girl
summary: you were always in love with JJ and when he finally noticed you, someone had to appear to make him take his attention off of you.
warnings: nothing
word counter: 5403
author’s note: english is not my first language, unfortunately I don't know what's going on and i can't tag anyone.
The first time you realized you had a crush on JJ Maybank, you were nine years old. It was a hot afternoon on the Outer Banks, and everyone was at the beach. John B and the other boys were competing to see who could run the fastest to the pier. You, as always, were sitting on the sand, watching from a distance, knees drawn to your chest, wanting to be a part of his world.
You couldn't take your eyes off JJ. His carefree smile, the sparkle in his blue eyes, the messy blonde hair that seemed to catch the sunlight. Even at that age, there was something special about him, an energy that drew you in without you being able to help it. While John B protected you like the older brother he was, you dreamed that one day JJ would look at you the way he looked at the ocean waves: with admiration, with interest. But for years, that day never came.
To him, you were always John B’s little sister, a constant but almost invisible presence in his life. The girl who ran after the Pogues, who listened to their stories from the corner of the room, laughing when everyone else did, but who never got a special glance from JJ.
Until that night.
It was at one of those impromptu parties at the Routledge house, with the sound of the ocean in the background and lights hanging on the porch. The air was heavy with salt and laughter, and you had decided, almost without thinking, that tonight would be different. You had spent hours choosing what to wear, looking for a balance between casual and what might catch his attention. The short dress you chose was simple, but it knew how to highlight your subtle curves, the ones JJ had never noticed before.
When you got to the backyard, the party was already in full swing. Kie was dancing with Sarah near the fire pit, and John B was busy talking to Pope about a new adventure. But you weren’t looking for either of them. There was only one person on your mind.
You saw him leaning against the porch railing, a beer in his hand, talking to a blonde girl you didn’t know. Your heart sank for a moment. Sure, he was with another girl. He was always with some girl. But instead of turning around and giving up, something in you decided that this time you weren’t going to stay in the shadows.
You walked towards the group confidently, feigning a confidence you didn’t really feel, but that seemed to convince everyone. JJ saw you approach, and for the first time, his eyes stopped on you, not in passing, not as his best friend’s sister, but as someone who, for some reason, deserved his attention.
“Do you want a beer?” he offered, with that crooked smile that had always driven you crazy.
“Sure,” you replied with an equally confident smile, though inside your heart was pounding.
They spent the night talking, laughing, sharing glances you hadn’t imagined possible. It wasn’t just the beer; it was the way his fingers brushed yours as he passed you a bottle, the way his eyes roamed your face as if he were seeing it for the first time. He made you feel alive, wanted.
And then, close to midnight, when everyone was too busy to notice, he led you away from the hustle and bustle, to the back of the house, where the shadows met the moonlight.
“I always thought you were different,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes fixed on yours.
“Different how?” you asked, barely breathing, afraid it was all a dream.
“I don’t know… I’ve never seen you like this before. But now I can’t stop looking at you.”
And then he kissed you. It was gentle at first, like he was testing something he had been waiting to discover. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, afraid that if you let go, the moment would fade.
Ever since that night at the party, your relationship with JJ became a secret that throbbed between the two of you, hidden in the margins of your lives. When you were around others, he was still the same JJ: charismatic, carefree, the boy who joked with John B and made everyone laugh. But in those moments when his eyes met yours, there was something different. Something that only you two shared.
The escapades began to become more frequent. At first, they were small encounters: a furtive glance from across the room, the purposeful brush of your hands as you passed him a bottle, or a smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come. But over time, those stolen moments stopped being enough.
There were nights when JJ would send you a short, simple text: “Meet you at the dock.” And you, unable to resist, would sneak out of the house while John B slept, slipping through the shadows until you reached him. There, under the dim light of the stars and the sound of the waves crashing against the wood, JJ would wait for you. Always with that mischievous smile, always with the promise of making you forget the world for a while.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if John B knew?” you asked one night, as you both sat on the edge of the dock, your feet dangling over the water.
JJ looked at you, his smile fading for a moment. He knew the question was going to come sooner or later.
“He’d probably kill me,” he replied with a soft laugh, but there was a truth in his words that made you shudder.
“I know,” you murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was the reality that always hung over the both of you, a cloud that never quite went away.
JJ slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers traced soft circles on your skin, as if he wanted to calm your thoughts.
“But I also know I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered close to your ear. “I don’t want to.”
His words hit you with a mix of excitement and fear. Because even though JJ was impulsive, and sometimes he didn’t think about the consequences, you knew his feelings were real. He didn’t say it to make you feel good, but because he truly meant it.
There were always boundaries, though. They never talked about the future, never wondered what they were to each other. Everything stayed in the present, in what they could steal from each other while no one was looking. And even though you wanted more—more of his touch, more of his glances, more of his time—there was a part of you that was afraid to ask for it.
There were days when reality hit you harder. Like when you saw him flirting with other girls at parties, his easy smile and undeniable charm melting hearts in its wake. You knew he’d always been like that, and that, in theory, you had no right to feel jealous. It wasn’t anything serious.
But it hurt.
“Why does it bother you?” he asked you once, after you confronted him about spending too much time with a girl at a party.
“I don’t know…” you lied, but you both knew the truth.
JJ looked at you with those blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He moved in slowly, his fingers brushing your cheek before he cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re the one who’s here with me now” he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. “Not her.”
And when he kissed you, all your thoughts faded away, at least for a moment.
But reality always came back.
Despite the doubts that lingered in your head, you kept looking at JJ. Because even though there were no promises, even though he never assured you anything, you were willing to settle for what he gave you. It was enough… or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
But then, she showed up.
Her name was Emma. She wasn’t the type that usually hung out in the Outer Banks, nor some random girl who showed up at parties. She was new to the island, with a dazzling smile and a carefree air that caught everyone’s attention… including JJ.
The first time you saw her was at one of those beach gatherings, where all the Pogues and a few Kooks mingled. You were sitting near Kie and Sarah, enjoying the warmth of the fire, when you noticed her. Tall, blonde, with the kind of confidence that seemed to light up the place she was in.
But what really made you tense was seeing how JJ looked at her. It was a look you recognized all too well. The same one he’d started giving you in those first few encounters. The same one that had made you feel visible, wanted.
And now, that look was directed at someone else.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to ignore it, telling yourself it meant nothing. JJ had always been charming with girls, always flirted. But there was a difference this time. Emma wasn’t just another one.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked you, noticing your silence.
“Yes, everything is fine” you lied, forcing a smile that barely managed to convince her.
That night, JJ spent most of his time with Emma. He helped her light a new fire, offered her a beer, and when she laughed at one of his jokes, you felt something snap inside you.
He barely looked at you.
You tried not to give it any importance, thinking it was just one night. That the next day, things would go back to the way they were. But they didn't.
From that point on, Emma showed up at every party, every impromptu get-together, and JJ always found an excuse to get close to her. It seemed like the whole world had shrunk to that girl… except for you.
There was one afternoon when everyone decided to go surfing. You were used to seeing JJ in the water, seeing how his smile lit up when he challenged the waves. But that day, instead of being by your side, he was teaching Emma how to balance on the board. She was laughing nervously, and he was completely focused on her, as if nothing else mattered.
You felt the air grow heavy, like you couldn’t breathe. And though you tried to stay calm, it was hard not to notice how your presence had ceased to be relevant to him.
Later, as everyone relaxed on the sand, JJ walked over to where you were sitting alone, drawing circles in the sand with his fingers.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been really quiet lately,” he said, his carefree smile on, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.
Of course he hadn’t noticed.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.
“Are you sure?” he insisted, leaning slightly towards you, as if he wanted to figure out what you weren’t saying.
“Yeah, JJ. I’m fine,” you said more firmly, even though you knew it was an obvious lie.
He looked at you for a second longer, as if he was about to say something, but then Emma called out to him from the shore. And without a second thought, JJ stood up and walked away, leaving behind a void that seemed to grow ever larger.
That night, there was no “See you at the dock” text.
You stayed in your room, staring at the ceiling, wondering when Emma became his center of attention.
The next few days were silent torment. Emma kept showing up everywhere, and JJ was still by her side, oblivious to you. Every time you saw them together, every time you heard his laughter mixing with hers, you felt like you might… you didn’t even know.
Until one night, when the tension became unbearable, JJ found you alone on the dock, the same place where it had all started. He sat down next to you, the sound of the water breaking the silence between you.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been distant,” he said, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. “Is something going on?”
You looked at him, and for the first time, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“You really don’t notice, JJ?” you asked, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and hurt.
“Notice what?” he replied, genuinely confused, as if everything that was going on between you had been invisible to him.
And there, at that moment, you understood. JJ Maybank was an idiot.
“Forget it,” you whispered, getting up from the spot and walking in another direction.
JJ watched you leave for a second longer, wanting to understand, but in the end, he simply stayed silent. Because to him, everything was fine.
The next day dawned hot, and the beach seemed like the only logical place to spend the afternoon. The boys had decided to surf, while you, Sarah, and Kie settled down on the sand, towels spread out and sunglasses covering your faces. The sun was beating down, and although you tried to relax and concentrate on the light conversation your friends were having, your gaze inevitably sought out JJ.
You found him quickly. It wasn’t hard. He was in the water, near the waves, with Emma. She was laughing, splashing as he helped her stabilize on the board, like he’d done with you so many times before. There was an ease in the way JJ moved with her, like nothing in the world could interrupt them. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.
“Are you burning?” Kie asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Oh? No… I’m fine,” you answered quickly, adjusting your sunglasses to hide the frown you hadn’t been able to help.
You tried to stay present, to laugh at the right moments, to talk about anything but what was really bothering you. But your eyes kept returning to JJ and Emma, like they were impossible magnets to control. Every laugh from her, every smile from him, stuck in you like a needle.
After a while, you got tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t care.
“I’m going to the water to cool off a bit,” you announced, getting up from your towel and brushing the sand off your legs.
“I’ll join you in a bit,” Sarah said, but you were already walking toward the shore.
The water was cool, an immediate relief from the scorching heat. You waded in up to your ankles, letting the small waves splash against your feet as you stared at the horizon. You took a deep breath, trying to drown out that feeling of discomfort that had been haunting you for days.
The sound of footsteps approaching behind you made you turn your head slightly. JJ.
“Aren’t you going to go any further in?” he asked, with that lazy smile he always seemed to have.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you continued to stare at the water, as if he wasn’t there. As if his presence didn’t affect you.
JJ didn’t seem to be put off by your silence. He moved closer, until he was close enough for his feet to touch the water as well.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, as if it was all a game to him.
“No, JJ. I’m not mad,” you murmured, not looking at him.
But he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t true. There was a moment of silence, and then, you felt it. His hand brushing your back, his fingers playing with the thin strap of your bikini.
“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to look at him, but it was too late. With a quick, precise movement, JJ peeled off the top strap of your bikini.
“JJ!” “Oh,” you exclaimed, heart racing as you scrambled to hold the fabric to your chest, keeping it from falling. Your eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and anger.
He laughed, that carefree laugh that always seemed to come out of him so easily.
“Relax, no one saw,” he said, quickly looking around. It was true. Sarah and Kie were still talking to each other on the sand, and everyone else was busy in their own worlds. No one was paying attention… except you.
“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice steady, trying to stay calm as you tied your bikini back up.
JJ shrugged, that mischievous spark in his eyes.
“I wanted to see how you tanned.”
The answer made you boil inside. What was a light joke to him was an invasion to you, a reminder of how he always seemed to take everything lightly, even when you were at the edge of an emotional abyss.
You stared at him, your eyes burning.
“Why don’t you check to see if Emma has tanned?” you shot back, an edge to your voice that you couldn’t hide.
JJ raised an eyebrow, surprised by your response. The amusement on his face faded for a second, replaced by something that looked like curiosity.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, tilting his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he hadn’t finished putting together.
Jealous. The word hung in the air, heavy, loaded with meaning. Of course you were, but you would never admit it to him. Not to him. Not after how he’d been ignoring you.
“Don’t make me laugh, JJ,” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why would I be jealous? What you do with Emma is none of my business, is it?”
You saw him tense, if only for a second. But JJ was JJ, and he quickly returned to his carefree facade.
“You’re right,” he said, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
The coldness of his words hit you harder than you expected. You felt a lump in your throat, but you refused to show him how much it had affected you.
“Exactly,” you said firmly, giving him one last look before turning and walking away from him, back towards the beach.
As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on your back. But you didn’t look back. Because even though a part of you wanted him to follow you, to say something, anything to show that he cared, you knew he wouldn’t.
After that day at the beach, something changed inside you. It was like you had finally crossed a line that had no way back. You could no longer pretend that what JJ did didn’t affect you, that his indifference didn’t hurt you. So you decided to stop trying.
You would ignore him.
Every time he came close, you would walk away. Whenever he made a group comment, you just looked away. And if he ever tried to start a conversation with you, your answers were short, curt, just enough for him to understand that you didn’t want anything from him.
But it was a lie.
You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. Not when you still felt that flutter in your stomach every time you saw him smile, or when his laugh, the one that seemed to fill all the space around him, reached your ears. But you wanted him to think you hated him. You wanted him to feel, at least a little, the rejection you had felt.
The first time you deliberately ignored him was at a meeting. You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by friends, when JJ walked in, as always, with an energy that seemed to light up the room.
“Hey,” he greeted, with that easy smile that used to make you melt.
“Hey,” everyone answered, except you.
You didn’t even look up. You just kept looking at your phone, as if he wasn’t there.
He noticed. You knew because he paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something. But when you didn’t, he moved toward the group, his smile barely faltering.
Later, he tried to approach you again. You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when you felt him behind you.
“Are you hiding from me?” he asked in a light, almost mocking tone.
“I don’t have to hide from anyone, JJ,” you replied without looking at him, your voice so cold it almost surprised you.
He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you. It was his classic move, the carefree guy one, but you weren’t willing to fall for it anymore.
“Why aren’t you talking to me?” he finally asked, his tone more serious.
“I have nothing to tell you,” you replied, focusing back on your drink.
“Nothing?” he insisted, taking a step closer. Not even to tell me why you're acting like I did something terrible to you?
You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. It was hard to stand your ground when he was so close, when you could feel his presence enveloping you.
“I’m not acting. I just have no interest in talking to you. That’s all.”
“Are you sure?” JJ asked, a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Because it seems more like you’re avoiding me.”
You shot him a look loaded with intent.
“JJ, it’s not all about you. You’re not as important as you think.”
The lie came out more bitter than you expected. Because, actually, it was. He’d always been important to you, but you refused to admit it.
JJ fell silent, as if he were evaluating your words. Finally, he let out a low laugh, the laugh that used to enchant you but now only seemed to infuriate you.
“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Perfect,” you replied, turning your back on him and walking out of the kitchen before he could say anything else.
But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Ignoring him took more effort than you anticipated. Because JJ wasn’t the type to accept being ignored easily. He was still looking for excuses to get close to you, to invade your space with his unmistakable presence.
There was one afternoon at the beach when you were with Sarah and Kie, laughing and enjoying the sun, when he appeared with his surfboard under his arm. He stopped near where you were standing, as if he was looking for something… or someone.
“You coming to the water?” he asked, addressing the group, but with his eyes on you.
“No. We’re fine here,” Kie replied before you could speak.
But JJ didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you as if he was waiting for a specific answer. One that never came.
Finally, he turned around and walked towards the water, but not before giving you one last look, as if he was trying to figure out the wall you had put up between you.
The tension between you had grown like a storm about to break loose. Ignoring him had been your strategy, and JJ had played his part at first. But like everything involving him, it couldn’t last long. You were both too impulsive, too passionate to keep pretending you didn’t care.
The opportunity for it all to explode came at one of the parties that always seemed to bring everyone together. With loud music, flashing lights, and the beach in the background. The air was charged with energy, but you were tense from the moment you arrived. You knew JJ would be there, and even though you had spent days perfecting the skill of ignoring him, something told you that tonight would be different.
You leaned against a wall near the kitchen, holding a glass in your hand, watching the crowd dance and laugh. Sarah and Kie were nearby, talking to some guys, but you weren’t in the mood to socialize. Your gaze, as always, sought him out. And you found him.
JJ was there, in the center of the room, laughing with his friends and… with Emma. She was beside him, too close, laughing at something he had said. It was a scene you had seen repeated too many times in the past few weeks, and it hurt more and more each time.
You tried to ignore it, as you had been doing, but that night it was harder. Something inside you was on the verge of breaking.
“Are you okay?” Kie asked, coming closer.
“Yeah, sure,” you lied, giving her a forced smile.
She looked at you curiously, but didn’t insist. She didn’t want to talk about JJ. She didn’t want to think about him… but it was impossible not to.
A couple of hours later, the party was still at its peak. You had decided to go out to the backyard to get some fresh air. The cool breeze was a relief against the heat you felt inside. You were standing, staring at the waves in the distance, when you heard him.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me all night?”
JJ’s voice.
You didn’t need to turn around to know he was behind you. You could feel his presence, so familiar and so frustrating. You pressed your lips together and took a deep breath before slowly turning around.
“I didn’t know I had to talk to you, JJ,” you replied coldly, crossing your arms over your chest.
He looked at you, his blue eyes shining with that mix of confusion and determination that always managed to disarm you. But this time you refused to fall.
“Really?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Are you going to keep doing this? Because I’m tired. I’m tired of you ignoring me, of you acting like I don’t exist.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding. You had expected that confrontation, but now that it was here, you didn’t know if you were ready to face it.
“And what did you expect me to do, JJ?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. “Keep pretending everything was okay? Because it’s not.”
He frowned, crossing his arms.
“Pretending? What are you talking about? Everything was fine until you started acting like you hated me.”
The word “hate” made you shudder. It wasn’t hate, it never had been, but you wanted him to believe it.
“I don’t hate you, JJ,” you said, voice softer this time, but still laden with emotion. “What bothers me is that… you just don’t realize it.”
“Realize what?” he asked, genuinely interested now, his tone more serious.
That was the moment. You could feel it in the air, like everything around you had stopped, waiting for your answer.
“About how I feel about you.” The words came out before you could stop them, and once they were said, there was no going back. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, JJ. And every time you ignore me, every time I see you with Emma or any other girl… it hurts.” It hurts more than I can bear.
JJ stared at you, as if he was processing every word. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and that silence was worse than any answer.
“I didn’t know…” he finally murmured, his voice seeming softer, more vulnerable.
“How could you know?” you said, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You never looked at me like that. I was always John B’s sister, or just another friend. I was never enough for you, was I?”
He shook his head, taking a step closer. He was in front of you now, so close you could feel his heat.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true.”
“No?” you asked, challenging him with your gaze. “Because that’s how you’ve made me feel.”
JJ raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before gently placing it on your cheek. The contact was electric, as always, but this time you weren’t about to let that confuse you.
“You are more than enough.” You always have been… but I’m the idiot who didn’t see it.” His voice was sincere, full of something you hadn’t heard before: regret.
“JJ…” You whispered his name, your eyes searching for his, but this time there were no barriers. Everything was there, exposed.
And for the first time, there were no more games, no more lies. Just the two of you, face to face, with the truth finally spoken.
JJ looked at you with an intensity you had rarely seen in him. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, and for an instant, everything around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, with the truth floating in the air, no masks, no games.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice low, but full of emotion. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.”
Despite the emotions bubbling in your chest, a part of you still resisted. You had spent so much time building that wall between you that letting it fall suddenly made you feel vulnerable, exposed.
“JJ…” you started, but he didn’t let you continue.
“Listen to me.” His hand was still on your cheek, and his thumb traced a light circle on your skin, sending a shiver through your body. “I don’t know when I started feeling this… the way I feel about you. But it’s there. I know it now, and I don’t want to ignore it anymore. I don’t want to lose you anymore.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You had dreamed of hearing something like this so many times that it seemed unreal now.
“What about Emma?” you asked, your voice still heavy with caution. “You seem pretty interested in her lately.”
JJ frowned slightly, as if the mere mention of Emma was irrelevant at the moment.
“Emma doesn’t mean anything.” His answer was firm, sincere.
His words made a wave of heat run through you. For a moment, you wanted to believe him, but there was still a part of you that wanted to hold on to the resentment, to the distance you had kept. It was easier than giving yourself over completely.
JJ noticed your hesitation, and with a mischievous smile that you knew well, he added:
“You know, I like it when you ignore me… but I prefer it when you talk to me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. His ability to disarm you with a simple sentence was still intact.
“Don’t get used to this, JJ.” Your eyes met his, a spark of defiance flashing in them. “I may go back to hating you. It was more fun.”
He laughed, genuine and carefree, as if your words were exactly what he needed to hear.
“I doubt it.” He leaned in slightly, getting so close that his breath brushed your lips. “But if you do… I promise I’ll find a way to make you like me again.”
The world seemed to stop for a second. The air between you was thick with tension, but this time it wasn’t the same tension you’d been carrying around for weeks. This time it was different. It was something new, something real.
And when JJ finally closed the distance, brushing your lips against his in a slow kiss filled with everything that had been left unsaid, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to resist, there was no turning back. You were lost in him, as always, but this time he was lost in you too.
#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x y/n#jj mayback imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank x pogue!reader#obx fic#obx fanfiction#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine
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Chill Dad | K.Mg
Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: fluff, parent au
Summary: Mingyu always wanted to be the chill and cool dad for his kids, however the world don't let him.
Mingyu remembered the exact moment he fell to his knees upon hearing the news—you were pregnant. After years of waiting, his dream of becoming a father was finally coming true. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter to him. But, as if fate had a plan, he was blessed with both—a beautiful baby girl and a baby boy. God had granted him twins. The day they were born, his heart nearly burst with pride. He named them Kim Kayi and Kim Kiha, and from that moment on, they became the center of his world.
Mingyu loved nothing more than showing off his babies. When the twins were just a month old, he threw a house party, eager to introduce them to everyone he knew. In his big arms, he proudly held Kayi and Kiha, beaming with pride as he introduced his friends and family to “the cutest babies in the world.” He wasn’t just saying that because they were his blood; they truly were the cutest—at least in his eyes. He adored every inch of them, from their tiny fingers to their chubby cheeks.
But, as the years passed, those adorable babies grew into spirited four-year-olds, and with that came the inevitable challenge: rebellion. Despite their cuteness, Kayi and Kiha had quickly learned how to test their father’s patience.
“I don’t want it!” Kayi’s small voice rang out defiantly one evening, her lips firmly pressed together as she refused to eat the vegetables on her plate.
Mingyu sighed, sitting across from her at the dining table, while you, seated on his left, were busy helping Kiha with his meal. Gently, he placed a carrot on Kayi’s fork and handed it to her again, hoping for cooperation. But with a little too much force, she pushed it back onto the plate.
“Kim Kayi…” His voice rose a few decibels, a warning in his tone.
You intervened softly, your voice a balm to his frustration. “Kayi, that’s okay. Just finish your meat, and then we can have your favorite fruit for dessert,” you said, standing to clean the small mess Kayi had made. Your other hand gently rubbed Mingyu’s back, calming him.
Another day, it was Kiha’s turn to test his father’s patience. “Kiha, we’re late, come here!” Mingyu called out, clothes in hand, as his son stubbornly refused to get dressed for an event. His small body was still glued to the floor, protesting.
“I don’t want to go…” Kiha mumbled.
“Mom and Kayi are waiting, everyone’s waiting,” Mingyu said with urgency, trying to reason with his son. “You shouldn’t be like this!”
When you walked into the room and saw the scene, Mingyu sighed in exasperation. “He refuses to wear anything,” he explained, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked gently, kneeling down to Kiha’s level and pulling him into a warm embrace. The two of you shared a quiet conversation that Mingyu couldn’t quite hear. Before long, you turned to him with a smile.
“Why don’t you and Kayi go ahead to the event? Kiha and I will stay home today,” you suggested softly, rubbing Kiha’s back as he clung to your neck.
Mingyu frowned. “Why?”
You smiled and gave Kiha a reassuring squeeze. “Kiha doesn’t want to go today. That’s okay, love. We’ll wait here for you.”
Though these moments tested Mingyu’s patience, he had a very healthy relationship with his kids. He adored them, and they adored him right back. Still, parenting during this rebellious phase often left him stressed, struggling to be the cool and chill dad he had once dreamed of being.
Later that evening, after the kids were finally asleep, Mingyu climbed into bed, visibly worn out. “You really need to stop spoiling the twins, love,” he said as he lay beside you.
You raised an eyebrow, confused. “I don’t spoil them.”
Mingyu shook his head. “You let them get away with everything. That’s why they fight me on everything I ask them to do.”
You let out a soft laugh, recalling the five rounds of dance battles you’d just had with the kids before bedtime. “They’re just babies, love. They’re supposed to be spoiled.”
“They’re babies, yes, but there are still rules in this house,” he said, his tone exasperated. “I’m exhausted, and I swear they still had energy left even after I forced them to close their eyes. But eventually, they passed out.”
He sighed. “And earlier tonight, Kiha said he doesn’t want to go to daycare tomorrow. He wants to stay with you.”
You nodded. “Then I’ll take him to work with me.”
Mingyu gasped dramatically, yanking the duvet over himself. “See! This is exactly what I mean. You’re spoiling them too much! And don’t think I forgot about the ice cream yesterday—you got them ice cream without telling me!”
You giggled, guilt evident on your face. “I’m sorry… They were so cute; I couldn’t say no!”
You snuggled closer to him, kissing his neck softly. “You’re an amazing father, Love. You’re doing such a great job. Trust me.”
He turned toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I know…” He smirked, leaning in for a kiss.
“Is this your way of telling me you want another kid?” Mingyu teased as he hovered over you, kissing you again.l
You grinned up at him. “Maybe…”
*
The next morning began like any other—filled with the usual whirlwind of activity as Kayi and Kiha ran around the house, their laughter echoing through the halls. You were busy getting breakfast ready, while Mingyu tried to wrangle the twins into their clothes.
“Kayi, Kiha, come on! We’re going to be late,” Mingyu called out, his tone growing sharper as the twins continued to ignore him, engrossed in their game of chase.
You glanced over, noticing the tension in his shoulders. “I’ll handle Kiha,” you offered, but before you could move, Mingyu sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“No, I’ve got it,” he muttered, though the strain in his voice was clear.
The twins, oblivious to their father’s growing frustration, continued to run around, giggling as they eluded his grasp. Mingyu managed to catch Kayi, but Kiha slipped away, squealing with laughter.
“Kiha! Get over here, now!” Mingyu snapped, his patience fraying. When Kiha only giggled in response, Mingyu slammed his hand down on the counter. “I said, now!”
The sudden loud noise made Kiha freeze, his smile fading as he stared at Mingyu with wide eyes. Kayi, still in Mingyu’s arms, shrunk back, her playful energy draining away. You watched the shift in the atmosphere, your heart sinking.
“Babe…” you began softly, but he shook his head, setting Kayi down a little too abruptly.
“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “Every day it’s a fight. I’m just trying to get them dressed, and they act like I’m the enemy!”
Kiha, still frozen in place, looked from you to Mingyu, his lower lip trembling. Kayi wrapped her arms around her father’s leg, her small voice barely audible. “Daddy… I’m sorry…”
But Mingyu didn’t hear her. He turned away, muttering something under his breath as he walked out of the room, leaving you and the kids standing there in stunned silence.
You knelt down, pulling Kiha into your arms as Kayi clung to your side. “It’s okay, babies,” you whispered, kissing their heads. “Daddy’s just upset right now. He doesn’t mean to scare you.”
They nodded, though you could see the hurt in their eyes. Your heart ached, torn between comforting your children and wanting to check on Mingyu. You knew he didn’t mean to lose his temper, but moments like this had been happening more often lately, and it was beginning to take a toll on all of you.
Later that day, Mingyu retreated to the bedroom, wrestling with his emotions. He felt a heavy weight in his chest, the guilt settling in as he replayed the morning in his head. He hadn’t meant to yell. He loved his kids more than anything, but sometimes the pressure of parenting, combined with his own fears of failure, made it hard to keep his composure.
It wasn’t until you walked into the room, your eyes soft with understanding, that Mingyu finally let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“They’re okay, Mingyu,” you said gently, sitting down beside him on the bed. “But they were a little scared. You know that, right?”
Mingyu rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a groan. “I messed up. I didn’t mean to yell, but I just… I don’t know. I’m trying so hard, and it feels like I’m failing. I just want them to listen to me.”
“They’re just kids,” you reminded him, your voice calm but firm. “They’re going to push boundaries—that’s what four-year-olds do. But you have to remember that you’re their dad. They look up to you. And when you lose your temper, it affects them more than you realize.”
Mingyu closed his eyes, the tension slowly melting away as your words sank in. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. “I’m sorry I yelled. I just… I feel like I’m failing.”
You squeezed his hand gently. “You’re not failing, Mingyu. Parenting is hard, and we’re both learning. But you’re not in this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and self-doubt. “I need to apologize to them, don’t I?”
You nodded. “It’ll mean a lot to them.”
That evening, after dinner, Mingyu gathered the twins on the couch, pulling them close. Kayi and Kiha sat quietly, their big eyes watching him, sensing something serious was about to happen.
“Hey, guys,” Mingyu began, his voice softer than usual. “I want to talk to you for a minute.” He took a deep breath, glancing at you before turning back to the twins. “I’m sorry for yelling this morning. I was upset, but I shouldn’t have raised my voice. That wasn’t right, and I don’t want you to feel scared of me.”
Kayi crawled into his lap, wrapping her little arms around his neck. “It’s okay, Daddy,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest. “We love you.”
Kiha, still a bit hesitant, scooted closer and leaned his head against Mingyu’s arm. “We love you, Daddy,” he echoed quietly.
Mingyu’s heart clenched as he held them close, his eyes misting over. “I love you both so much,” he whispered, kissing the tops of their heads. “I’m going to try to be better, okay? We’ll work together.”
You watched from the doorway, your heart swelling at the sight of the three of them. Mingyu wasn’t perfect, but he was trying—and in the end, that’s what mattered most. Parenting wasn’t about being flawless; it was about showing up, even in the difficult moments, and finding your way back to love.
As the night settled in and the twins eventually drifted off to sleep, Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For always being here. For helping me through this.”
You smiled softly, resting your head against his chest. “We’re in this together, love. Always.”
And as you held each other in the quiet of the night, you knew that, no matter the challenges that lay ahead, you would face them side by side—just as you always had.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#mingyu imagines#mingyu fanfic#mingyu x reader#mingyu au#mingyu fluff#mingyu scenarios#mingyu smut#mingyu imagine#mingyu recs
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❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi
warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 4.9k
a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa
❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic
Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass.
Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself.
Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?
Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay. Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.
He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.
From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.
Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment.
“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”
The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships.
He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell.
His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks.
The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”
“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.
“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window.
You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”
“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”
“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically.
“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”
You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”
“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”
“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”
“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”
You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown.
Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?”
You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”
“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”
You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt.
Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.”
You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”
Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.
“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”
“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”
“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.
“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.
“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”
“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”
“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?
Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.
“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly.
Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.
With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”
“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes.
He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.”
“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked.
“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”
“Or I could look through your messages.”
Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”
You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”
He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”
“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”
Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”
He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”
Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”
“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”
“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.”
He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”
“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.
“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all.
He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.
Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.
“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other.
“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.
“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?
Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.
You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”
He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”
You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?”
“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”
Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two.
“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”
“Really?”
“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”
A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”
Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.
His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.”
Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.
“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”
“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.
“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”
“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.
“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”
You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.
“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”
You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust.
“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”
You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon.
“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes.
“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”
“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”
“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.
Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”
With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock.
“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.
“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”
“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.
“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#timeskip iwaizumi#hajime iwaizumi#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi x reader#aoba johsai
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BOYFRIEND!RAFE x ACADEMIC!READER
WARNINGS .ᐟ fem!reader, unconventional study methods, fingering, lots of talking, facts about the nervous system
NOTES .ᐟ boyfriend rafe boyfriend rafe boyfriend rafe. this came to me while i was tediously taking notes for my psych class and wishing that i had a sexy rafe cameron in my bed.
You sat comfortably on your boyfriend's bed, your back pressed against his chest as you typed away on your computer, taking notes for your psychology class. His chin rested on your shoulder as he peered at the screen, reading a bunch of words he didn't quite understand while his hand rested on your thigh, his thumb drawing soft circles.
"What are you doing?" He hummed, his fingers dancing slightly higher. He knew what you were doing, but he wanted to hear you say it. He loved how excited you got and how you rambled on and on when you were telling him something you were passionate about. If he was being honest, it was kind of a major turn on.
"I've got a test tomorrow on the biological bases of behavior, so I'm just refreshing my memory on the endocrine and nervous systems," you explained, too focused on your notes to register that his touch was slowly sliding closer and closer to your clothed core.
"Oh, yeah?" He murmured, dipping his head down, his lips brushing against your skin as he began to pepper soft, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. His hand continued upwards, his fingers lightly brushing you over your already damp underwear. "Tell me about it, baby."
"Rafe," you gasped softly, biting your lip. You tilted your head to the side, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to find your resolve and tell him to stop, but you couldn't help the way your legs parted for him. "I told you I have to study."
"You are studying. Cmon, tell me all about the nervous system while I touch you, baby. You can do both," he coaxed you, his long fingers expertly pulling your panties to the side and running along your wet folds. "Tell me everything that's in that beautiful brain of yours."
You let out a breathy moan, your breathing quickening as your head fell back against his shoulder. You racked your brain for any piece of information, his touch making your mind go blank. "The brain is um-" you drew in a sharp breath as his thumb nudged your clit. "The exterior brain structures are the cerebral cortex, cereb-bellum, occipital lobe, temporal lobe, frontal lobe, and parietal lobe," you managed to say.
"Mmhmm, and what about the interior?" He prompted, his fingers slowly pushing inside of you. "Tell me every little detail, baby. I wanna know everything." His voice was low and husky as he encouraged you to keep going, his breath hot against your skin.
"Rafe," you moaned, your lips parting in pleasure as his fingers worked expertly inside you. You couldn't focus when you could feel his long fingers dragging against your tight walls.
"Cmon, my smart girl," he cooed, his other hand snaking around your waist and splaying his large hand across your stomach to keep you in place. "You know it. I know you do." He continued drawing his fingers in and out of you as his thumb rubbed your puffy clit firmly.
You did know it. You'd even forced Rafe to help you make stupid flashcards, so you could memorize the parts and all their functions. But, he had a way of making you forget everything and turning your brain to mush when he had his hands on you.
Your voice was shaky and breathless as you spoke, feeling your orgasm building low in your stomach. "The interior brain structures are the-the amygdala, hippocampus, medulla oblongata-" you gasped, your back arching into his touch when his fingers hit that spot inside you that had you practically seeing stars. You hesitantly kept going, trying to focus because knowing Rafe, if you stopped, he would too. "P-pituitary gland, thalamus, basal ganglia, hypothalamus, midbrain, and pons." You were pretty impressed with yourself that you managed to remember all that while your boyfriend was knuckle deep inside your dripping cunt.
He groaned, feeling himself grow harder as he listened to your breathy voice tell him all about your studies. "You're so fuckin' smart," he found that sensitive spot on your neck, sucking gently. "My brilliant girl."
Your walls fluttered around his fingers at his praising words. He was always so interested in what you had to say, never dismissing you or brushing you off when you started rambling aimlessly and throwing random facts his way. He listened intently, showing genuine interest that made you feel so loved and seen.
"Keep going, baby," he rasped, his fingers speeding up in a way that had you gripping his bicep—needing something, anything to keep you present. "What do all those big words do, hm?"
You let out a breathy laugh, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Well, the um- the hypothalamus controls the pituitary gland, which releases hormones that regulate bodily functions," you explained, smiling softly at how fitting that fact seemed to be.
"Mm, like the hormones that are rushing through your veins right now, making you all hot and bothered for me?" He asked, his voice low and taunting, his teeth lightly nipping at your neck. He pushed his fingers deeper, curving them up to hit that spot that always made your legs shake.
"Uh huh," you moaned, your nails sinking into his bicep through the soft material of his sweater. His fingers curling inside you as his thumb continued swirling around your sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.
He hummed against your skin, his tongue laving over the spot where his teeth had marked you. "Cmon, pretty girl," he whispered, feeling your body tense up. "You did so good. Let me feel you come apart on my fingers."
Your eyes fluttered shut, back arching into his touch as his words sent you over the edge. A whimper of his name fell past your parted lips amongst a sea of soft moans as you came, your walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers while he continued to drag them in and out of you, prolonging your high.
He groaned as he felt your velvety walls flutter and squeeze around his fingers, your sweet cries of his name spurring him on. He worked you through it, fingers pumping steadily, thumb circling your clit until you were a boneless, panting mess in his arms.
He peppered kisses along your jaw as he carefully pulled away from your weeping core. "Who knew you could make biology sound so sexy,"
"Technically, it's psychology," you corrected him, chest heaving. You turned your head to look at him as he brought his fingers to his lips, sucking your release off of them with a low groan. You bit your lips at the sight, his lips glistening as he pulled his fingers back.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he flashed you a grin before leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself on his tongue.
You moaned softly into his mouth, reluctantly pulling back after a moment. "If you keep distracting me, I'm never going to finish."
"Hm, that's weird because I'm pretty sure you just did," he hummed, feigning confusion as a cocky smirk tugged at his lips.
"Oh, shut up," you laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up at his innuendo. His hand slid up your arm, tracing soft shapes on your bare skin. You looked up at him, seeing the way his pupils dilated and feeling the evidence of arousal digging into you from behind. "Five more minutes and then I'm all yours, deal?" You raised a brow. You figured you had studied enough over the last couple days, and your oh so patient boyfriend deserved some of your attention.
A sly grin settled on his lips. "Deal, but don't think that I'll be keeping my hands to myself during these five minutes," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
You turned back to your computer, giggling as he dipped his head back into your neck, already kissing and sucking at your delicate skin. His hands started to roam your body, and as you tried to focus, you found yourself wondering if you would make it five minutes before you surrendered to him.
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