#I don’t get it they just come home and sit around | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluebirdsfeathers · 3 days ago

Text

Her Office

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: Wanda tried to get to know you a bit better before you start working together but an innocent question bring out painful memories.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), Past verbal and physical abuse, Slight hinted at homophobia, Mommy issues bc i have them too, power imbalance?

A/N: sorry this took so long. uni is really kicking my butt right now and just when i thought i'd have time to write my research supervisor gives me a 400+ page book to read.

Inspiration

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me… and for my sister!” Pietro joked as he helped you clear out your desk. You’d made yourself at home over the past few months working for him. You were sad to be leaving but excited to be working for Wanda, also incredibly nervous, like throw up into the recycling bin near the printer nervous. Not that that had happened of course.

“But seriously, we are going to miss you down here. Don’t go forgetting about us.” He patted you on the back handing you the last of your stuff.

“How could I forget you? I’ll be down here like every other day wont I? Wanda visits all the time.” you reply with slight confusion. Wanda was always coming down to check on things, like she must do with all the departments. You assumed most of your job would be to accompany her many visits around the building. Staying close and taking notes on what she says like you’d seen Theo do.

“Yeah, she definitely was just coming down here for routine check-ins.” Pietro mumbled with the faintest air of smugness of someone who knows something you don’t has. Before you could register what he said, the doors on the far side of the room swung open and in came Wanda.

Her stride exuded confidence as she made her way over to you and your now empty desk. Her hair was slightly messy, shirt untucked, and instead of her usual high heels she wore flats.

“Got everything?” She sounded short of breath, like she had just been running. “The elevator to my office is being inspected so we’ll have to take the stairs.” Without another word, Wanda started walking back towards the door pausing to look behind her when she sensed you hadn’t moved. “Come on those 15 floors won’t climb themselves.” Suddenly her slightly dishevelled appearance made sense. You took a deep breath and gave one last look at Pietro, who seemed to be going to great lengths to not laugh at his sister, before following Wanda.

The stair well was in stark contrast to the rest of the building. Tall grey brick walls and bright white lighting. It seemed to also double as extra storage space judging by the stacks of boxes and pallets back here. You only seen them briefly while getting your monthly fire safety talks from a very unenthusiastic Dr. Banner, who once again felt the need to remind the group he had much more important things to be doing than this. As much as you found the man funny, he’s short temper made him a little scary at times.

People yelling had always been something you weren’t fond of. Your mom had always been so angry with you for not behaving like she wanted. The constant being told to sit, speak, and act ‘like a lady’ throughout your childhood had led to so many arguments. Femininity was just something you never had an interest in and the pressure to fit in from your family only made you reject it harder.

This never made the yelling easier, instead it had only made you desperate to avoid that sort of conflict. Wanda yelling the other day had scared you in a way you hadn’t felt since you were a child, and you were now desperate to make sure you were never on the receiving of her rage.

“Y/n, careful.” You had been so lost in thought you’d missed a step and stumbled forward. Wanda who had been talking non-stop about how inconvenient the elevator maintenance was stopped to help you pick up some pens that had fallen from the box you were carrying. “Do you need some help with that? It looks heavy.”

You saw this a challenge.

“No I’m fine, I’m very strong.” Wanda gave you a smile as she placed the pens back into the box touching your hand as she pulled away before turning around to continue climbing the stairs. Your face immediately flushed red.

“Only 4 more flights to go.” Her voice echoed off the bare walls was she turned another corner. You let out a sigh, the box was actually really heavy.

Once in her office you placed the box on an empty desk in the corner of the room. It was pushed up to the window and gave you an amazing view of New York. It was only then you realised how high up you were.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Wanda came up behind you making you jump slightly, all this achieved was making the red head chuckle slightly. “You’re so jumpy you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You gave a small smile. Being alone with Wanda was terrifying and exciting all at once. The reality of the situation hadn’t really sunk in till just now. It was going to be the two of you, alone, very often from here out.

“Can I ask you something?” You nervously asked fiddling with the hem of your shirt not daring to look Wanda in the eyes. Her beautiful green eyes.

“Of course you can, darling.” Her final word rattled about in your brain momentarily making you forget what you even wanted in the first place.

“What you said, before,” Finally a coherent thought, “about wanting me, from the start. Was that true?”

“Yes, why would I lie.” Wanda raised an eyebrow giving you a no-nonsense look that you couldn’t if it was fully serious or not.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just, why didn’t you? You know, pick me the first time?” It was definitely a word salad that came out your mouth, thank God you were better at writing than speaking. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry…” you added after Wanda took a second to respond.

“No, no, don’t apologies…” She took a deep breath as if debating what to say. “That first day, I thought you had potential,” she began, clearly choosing her words carefully, “I just wanted to, see if you had what it takes to you know, be mine.”

“Be… yours.” The words caught in your throat as swallowed hard, struggling to speak.

“Be my intern, my assistant.” Wanda rushed to clarify but something inside you felt like her previous words were more honest. Not that you would dare push her on it. “And being my intern comes with a lot of responsibility, so I hope you are ready.”

“Yes ma’am.” You say saluting the older woman, who found the action quite amusing. “What do you need me to do first?”

Turns out Wanda didn’t want you to do anything just yet. Instead the two of you sat across from each other in the strange living room area of her office. Wanda lent back into a large leather armchair while you sat on the edge of the couch, almost velvety, black sofa.

She offered you a tea or coffee but instead you opted for the remnants of the energy drink you had tried to chug on the train this morning. Your choice in beverage clearly wasn’t approved by Wanda but she did little to stop you besides remind you of their negative health effects.

She asked you questions about yourself, clearly wanting to get to know you better but you held back from answering her questions too honestly, scared of being fired or disappointing her which was somehow worse in your head. They were all basic questions, and you asked some back at her.

She wanted to know about your favourite meal, how to you travel to work, where are you staying, and when you were going to get some proper work shoes. Your real answer being when they made comfortable ones but instead you opted to say when you get your next paycheck.

Then she asked something that caught you completely off guard. “How is your relationship with your family?”

“My family?” You repeat to make sure you were hearing things right.

“Yes, your family, you are one of the only interns not from a known family in the city, you mentioned you aren’t from New York originally, they must be proud of you?” Wanda spoke with a warm smile.

You hadn’t noticed but during the conversation you had leant back into the couch. It was like she had given you permission to relax for a change. You didn’t understand why but talking with Wanda made you feel comfortable, almost too comfortable at times making you need to remind yourself she was your boss.

“They umm,” your mind went to the argument you’d had with your father when you told him you were going to university miles away, almost across the entire country, “can we talk about something else.” Your voice shook slightly at the memory.

How angry he’d been, how angry he always was. The same with your mother, always so resentful, never protecting you from him. You spent your first semester coach surfing with a black eye till you had enough money to afford to rent a shitty little apartment.

“Sweetie, it’s okay.” Wanda had seemingly caught on that something was wrong and moved to sit next to you on the couch. She placed her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug that made your whole body tense. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen your grades and watched how hard you work. I’m proud of you y/n.” Her voice had the same warmth as earlier, it was sickeningly genuine to you.

All you wanted to do was melt into her arms, but you couldn’t this was your boss. She was just being nice, there was no way she would let you get that close to her under regular circumstances. You told yourself you wouldn’t let yourself get attached. You’d seen how ruthless she could be, and it terrified you to think of being on the receiving end. Catching feelings would just make your eventual fuck up ever worse.

Besides there was no way in hell CEO Wanda Maximoff, multimillionaire Wanda Maximoff, Old enough to be your mother Wanda Maximoff would ever have feelings for you in return.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You stood up as quickly as Wanda grip on you allowed. “Sorry.” You hurried to the small bathroom in the corner of the room, locking the door behind you before allowing yourself a moment to cry.

Cruel words from you parents fought the gentle reassurance Wanda had given you. You took a moment to collect yourself. Taking several deep breaths and trying to get rid of the redness in your eyes with a little cold water from the tab.

The bathroom, like everything in Wanda’s office screamed sophistication. The mostly white tiles with the smallest hint of red complemented the plush red hand towels, and several well looked after plants littered a shelf above the toilet. Most surprisingly was the shower and clawfoot tub in the room. Did she actually use them? Or where they just there because they could be?

Finally you were ready to leave the bathroom, stepping out you saw Wanda quickly look away from your direction. Had she been watching the door the whole time?

“Y/n, feeling better?” you gave a weak nod. “Good, right back to business then, first order is sorting out… this.” She pointed towards you clothing. Since Pietro had never required you to dress professionally, you had never updated your wardrobe. You wore the same baggy, teen boy esc clothing you always did.

“Yeah, I thought that would be a problem, sorry about the way I dress. I just…”

“No I like the way you dress.” Wanda cut you off. “I mean, you dress fine, it’s just not… appropriate if you are going to be accompanying me to important meetings and such.” You couldn’t tell if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn you saw a small blush creep onto the older woman’s face.

“Right, there should be a measuring tape in the third draw of the left cabinet in my office. I have some work to get on with you can’t help with.” Wanda began quickly pressing the button of the, hopefully, now working lift.

“I want you to measure yourself and note it down. I’ll sort you out some more work appropriate clothing.” Before you could ask any other follow up questions the doors to the lift opened and she rushed inside, disappearing almost immediately.

Walking into Wanda’s office you looked out at the city, everything seemed so quiet, so still from all the way up here. Grabbing the measuring tape you sat down at your desk, getting your phone out to look up exactly what measurement you need to give her. You’d never had to think about measurements when buying clothes before. Your face flushed a bit think about the idea of Wanda choosing you some clothes. Hopefully she wouldn’t put you in a pencil skirt, or God forbid heels.

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter @htinha157 @the-falling-avenger @reginassecretlover @canyonyodeler @mrsromanovaa @loneliestafterparty @imawandasimp @caramelcat123 @marvelwomen-simp @reginassweetheart @unadulteratedballoonduck @kei034 @coollemonsaresour

302 notes · View notes

whateveriwant · 23 hours ago

Text

I love the headcanon that Simon has had his nose broken multiple times, but I like to take it one step further and imagine: what if Simon’s nose has been broken so many times that it’s permanently affected his sense of smell?

That would explain why the big bastard is so grumpy all the time, right? I mean, wouldn’t you be if you lost one (and more than likely, two) of your five primary senses?

Like, just imagine what it would be like to lose both your sense of smell and taste (because the two are strongly intertwined). It would be like living every day of your life as if you have a bad head cold. It would make eating – something you have to do to survive – a chore instead of something to be enjoyed.

And I know what you’re thinking. No, I’m not about to insert a “British food is bland anyway so it’s not like he’s missing much” joke here. That would be in poor taste (just like their food, hey-oh!)

Okok no but seriously. Imagine what losing those two major senses would do to a person mentally. Knowing Simon, he would probably pretend like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter that everything smells and tastes like the color gray to him, even though secretly that couldn’t be further from the truth.

So imagine if that didn’t have to be the case any longer. Imagine if there was something – say, nasal surgery – that could restore those abilities he almost forgot he had once upon a time. (I’m not a doctor so I don’t know if surgery would work, but let’s just run with it, ok?)

For starters, I don’t think he’d be the one to initially seek out a treatment. The idea would have to come from an outside source (like from you, his loving partner) and it would take a lot of convincing to get him to go under the knife.

But say that you are able to convince him to have the surgery; that you get him to agree to have his bones rebroken and properly set this time, to have his olfactory nerves reattached to the places they’d been severed from. What would it be like to sit beside him as he wakes up and takes that first, deep inhale? What would it be like to witness him experience the power of smelling again for the first time in what feels like forever?

Would he be overwhelmed? Underwhelmed? Something that’s impossible for him to put into precise words?

And what would be the first smell that sticks out to him? The medicinal air of his hospital room? The clean aroma of his bed linens? The coppery tang of his own blood congealing around his sutures?

Realistically, I don’t think it would be until he goes home that any real change is apparent to you. It’s once he has the freedom to do whatever he wants, like a former shelter dog getting to explore the world for the first time, that you’d notice the drastic switch in him.

All of a sudden, Simon would be super adventurous when it comes to trying new foods. In the past, he just shoveled down whatever tasteless slop would keep his body fueled. But now, he’d find the fun in trying all sorts of different cuisines, ordering entire menus at a time to discover what he does and doesn’t like to eat.

I also think he would start experimenting with ways to perfume himself. Yes, he used soap and deodorant even when he had no sense of smell (for others’ sake, truly). But now, he’d go beyond those basic items, wandering into scented shampoos, specialty aftershaves, even dabbling with cologne.

Of course, things wouldn’t be all peachy 100% of the time, as I feel like he would soon get very picky about the kinds of scents he could tolerate in your home. The kind of fabric softener you use in the laundry, the kind of hand soap you have in the bathroom, the kind of leftovers you can and absolutely cannot reheat in the microwave the next day, just to name a few.

But through it all – the good and the bad, the bold and the nuanced – Simon finds there’s one scent in particular that eclipses anything else he’s encountered: You.

And I’m not talking about the products you use in your hair or the fragrances you like to wear on a night out. I’m talking about the raw, natural, pheromonal scent of you.

It’s like a drug to Simon, that warm, pleasurable smell that clings to your skin. There’s something about it that brings him an abundance of comfort, and he finds that after he’s had a long day, he wants nothing more than to come home and bury his face in your neck as he cuddles you to sleep.

Call it what you want. Biology, psychology, psychopathy, or so on. Simon doesn’t know what it is about your scent that’s so irresistible to him, nor does he really care. All he knows is that for a long time, something was missing from his life beyond just his ability to smell. And now that he’s realized what it is, he can’t believe he ever lived without it:

His reason to breathe.

#i was tempted to get freaky towards the end but i kept it sappy because i love him 🥺#but lol why did this remind me of that spongebob episode where patrick gets a nose but after smelling something bad it rots and falls off 😭#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley fanfic #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

302 notes · View notes

darkwitchoferie · 3 days ago

Text

Cheating Ex

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Minho since you were children – before he was a professional dancer, let alone before he’d debuted with Stray Kids. You’ve been in love with him for what feels like forever, but he’s with Jisung. Even before that, you’d resigned yourself to him not thinking of you that way. So when you go to his and Jisung’s apartment after your boyfriend cheats on you, again, you’re only expecting a shoulder or two to cry on but get significantly more than you ever let yourself hope for.

Cw/tw: multiple partners, pet names (baby, sweet girl, kitten, etc), unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), talk of anal, member x member action (kissing, but other things discussed), cum eating, dirty talk, non-public exhibitionism, very vocal sex – like, they just won’t stop talking, a little praise kink

Wc: 5.5k

This fic has an alternate that is just Minho x fem!reader. It can be found here.

This fic is part of a series of unconnected best friends to lovers fics, the others of which can be found on my master list.

You rushed through the front door of Minho’s apartment, tears streaming down your face, hoping your best friend was home.

“Y/N?” Jisung came around the corner, from the kitchen into the living room. “Y/nnie, what happened?” He hurried to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Sungie,” you muttered, relieved that someone was home, even though it wasn’t Minho. It didn’t matter though, you were nearly as close to Jisung as you were to Min. “It’s Haneul,” you said through tears. “He’s cheating on me.”

“Oh sweetheart. Come on.” Gently, he led you to his and Minho’s room. You followed Jisung to his bed and curled against him when he pulled you down onto it, letting the tears come and soak his shirt.

Some time later, after your tears had started to run dry and the crying was mostly internal now, you heard the bedroom door open. “Kitten? What happened?” Minho nearly threw himself on the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you. The familiar nickname, one he’d given you when you’d run over to his house in the rain and he’d said you looked like a half-drowned kitten, brought comfort the same way his presence did.

“Haneul cheated on her,” Jisung explained quietly.

“That asshole! Want me to call Chan and Changbin, sweetheart? We’ll go straighten him out.”

“It’s okay, Min. I’m fine. Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time.” You rolled slightly out of Ji’s embrace so you were looking at both of them.

They were both silent for a moment, staring down at you. “What do you mean?” Minho asked, voice low and dangerous sounding. Or, it would have been if you didn’t know your best friend well enough to know that he wasn’t going to leave you here while he went to hunt down your ex.

“Haneul…,” you sighed. “He’s never been loyal to me. He’s had at least two other girlfriends and I don’t even know how many hook-ups since we started dating. I just never told you.” You shrugged. You knew they were going to question you, but you hoped it wouldn’t be too bad if you tried to downplay how much the other affairs hurt you.

“What made this time different?” Jisung asked softly.

“He cheated in my bed. Not his own, hers, or some hotel room. He brought some woman to my home and my bed.”

“Why’d you stay with him so long?” Minho burst out, disappointment and hurt thick in his voice. “Kitten, you are so much better than that. You deserve so much better! Why put up with some asshole who doesn’t even respect you, let alone love you? Why – I don’t understand why you’d put yourself through that kind of cruelty.”

“He looks like you! Okay?!” You burst out, unable to hold it in under his disappointment. “Figured it was the closest I’d ever get to having you, either of you, so I –” Your eyes widened as you realized what you were saying and you struggled to sit up and get out of their bed. “Shit. Lemme go. Minho! Damn it, let me go!”

“Never,” he’d sat up and tugged you back against his chest.

Then Jisung was in your face, with those pleading boba eyes that you could never say no to. “Please, Y/nnie, just hold still for a bit. Just listen to us, okay?” You nodded, but didn’t relax, ready to run the second Minho let you go. Ji stared at you for a second and you could see the internal debate raging behind his eyes. “You know how Min and I do voice notes a lot?”

“Especially when one of you is working and the other isn’t,” you said by way of agreement.

“Exactly,” he grinned at you then dove toward his night stand and his phone. “Listen to these, yeah? Then… well, we’ll go from there.”

He tapped his screen and you heard Minho’s voice. “Kitten came by while you were out. Seemed sad. Did my best, but I’m not sure it was enough. Maybe swing by hers before you come home?” You furrowed your brow in confusion but before you could ask, he pressed play on another note.

“God damn,” this time it was his own voice. “I could listen to Y/nnie’s laugh all day long and never get bored of it.”

He alternated after that. The next was Minho, then himself again, and so on, giving you no time to react between voice notes.

“Do you think she’d moan like that if we fucked her?”

“She convinced me to go to the pool. You should see the bikini she’s wearing! Barely covers her. God I want to take it off with my teeth.”

“This asshole needs to go! What do you mean, you think she needs to lose weight?! Y/N is fucking perfect and you’re unworthy to breathe the same air.” You’d heard Minho angry like that before, but couldn’t recall the conversation he was referencing. You knew it had to be about your ex though.

“Ha! She fell asleep cuddling me. I feel like I won.” Was there a competition, you wondered.

“I can't decide if I hope she's wearing panties under that tiny skirt or not. Just imagine being allowed to bend her over and slide right in.” The note cut off with a low moan that shot straight to your core despite being a recording.

“Sorry I’m running late. Ran into our not-yet lover at the store. We should really get a move on on that, this whole seeing her pretend to be happy with other people when I know we could make her happier thing is killing me.”

“Sungie, you ever notice that the guys Kitten dates suck? Like, not just ‘cause I want her to be ours. I do, obviously. But like, I don’t think they listen to her when she talks. I know this asshole doesn’t.” You were certain by the tone in his voice that Minho had been drinking that day, but you had no idea when it was.

“Wish you were here baby. Riding my dildo and thinking 'bout you and Y/nnie. Think she'd let me cum in her? I hope so. Wanna make such a mess of that pretty pussy. Breed her like she deserves.” Jisung’s voice was nearly all moans and you could hear the slick sounds as he bounced on his dildo.

“Did you see that outfit she wore today? She always looks so good.”

Jisung set his phone down and stared at you for a minute. When you didn’t say anything, he said, "I know it’s a lot. And I don't wanna scare you off baby, just want you to know.”

“Oh, Kitten’s not scared. Are you? I can see your nipples poking your shirt, sweetheart. Can feel the way you’re damn near panting against me.” He was right. The first time you’d heard your nickname, you’d twitched in surprise. But then, realizing that all these voice notes must be about you, you’d really listened. You were touched and so turned on. You’d been trying to hide your reaction, but should have known that Minho would feel it.

“I….” You trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“You liked that?” Jisung asked. “You like hearing what me and Min talk about – think about you?” You nodded your head quickly. He tilted his head a little, a sly smile crossing his face. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He crawled closer to you. Holding eye contact, he said, “Would you let me cum in you?” You pressed back firmly against Minho, not trying to get away, more like trying to stabilize yourself. “Would you let me breed your pretty pussy like you deserve?”

You pressed your thighs together, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were trying to hide how aroused you were or trying to get some sort of relief. “I think she would,” Minho said, snaking a hand under your shirt and gently running his fingertips over your belly. “I think that right now Kitten would let both of us do just about anything with her. Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh God.”

Minho used a single finger under your chin to turn you to look at his very serious face. “I need to make one thing very clear to you, Y/N. If we do this, Ji and I are not letting you go. You will be ours. If you think that’s more than you can handle, you should go. Now.” He let go of you, planting both hands on the bed slightly behind himself.

You didn’t bother turning to Jisung to confirm he felt the same way. Instead, you twisted yourself completely around to straddle Minho’s lap. Sliding your arms over his shoulders you leaned in toward him. “Promise?” you whispered.

Minho practically lunged to close the tiny amount of distance left between you to claim your lips in a possessive kiss. His hand came up to tangle in your hair and tilt your head to where he wanted so he could deepen the kiss. You felt the bed shift behind you then the warmth of Jisung crowding against your back seconds before you felt his lips on your neck. Minho shifted you just a little more to give Ji more room as he sucked a hickey into your skin. You kept one arm over Minho’s shoulder, burying that hand in his hair, while bringing your other hand back to grip Jisung’s thigh, whimpering into Minho’s mouth at the way his thigh flexed under your hand.

Minho used the hand he had on your hip to pull you closer to him, sliding you over the bulge forming in his pants. You moaned, finally breaking away from his lips to toss your head back onto Jisung’s shoulder.

“Is Min hard under you, baby?” Jisung asked, lips hovering just over your neck. “’Course he is,” he said before you could answer. “He’s tasted your pretty mouth and got you on his lap finally. Does he feel good against your pussy, even through your clothes?” You nodded frantically. He shifted to whisper in your ear, “I promise, he feels even better inside you.” You moaned, rolling your hips against Minho’s clothed cock, and hearing both men echo your moan.

You turned your head, twisting your upper body enough that you could capture Jisung’s lips. The angle you were at wasn’t comfortable, but it did leave the other side of your neck bared for Minho to cover with open mouthed kisses and a few hickeys. You felt hands slide under your shirt, one Ji’s the other Min’s. They lifted the fabric over your head, both pulling away when they needed to.

Minho groaned low in his throat, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Kitten, you deserve for us to take our time, savoring you today. I don’t think I can,” he answered, without looking up at you.

“Mm. I don’t recall asking you to do that. Or even remotely suggesting it,” you countered. He lifted his head to look at you, that same dangerous look from earlier flashing in his eyes. Except this time, it was darker, lustful, and sent an answering bolt of lust through you.

You felt more than heard Jisung chuckle behind you. Quickly enough to leave you breathless, Minho and Jisung both manhandled you between them, stripping you of all your clothes until you rested between Minho’s legs, completely naked, back to his chest, his legs hooked over yours to hold them open. Their hands roamed over you – caressing your legs, belly, ghosting over your neck and boobs – overwhelming you with sensation. You tipped your head back against Minho, eyes closing, just letting yourself feel their hands.

Ji leaned in, cupping one boob and sucking that same nipple into his mouth while Min cupped the other from behind, rolling that nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned, pitch higher than it’d been so far, arching your back and pressing your tits more firmly against Ji and your ass against Minho.

“Does that feel good, Kitten? You like when we play with your tits?” You nodded frantically. “You have such pretty tits, baby. Always knew you would.” They switched sides, Ji moving to suck on the nipple Min had been playing with. Minho leaned down, gently biting where your neck and shoulder met, pulling a whimper from you. “Gonna let us take care of you today, Kitten?” He muttered, voice husky.

“Please.” You weren’t sure exactly what you were begging for, you just wanted more – wanted whatever they were going to give you. There must have been some sort of silent communication between the two men, because Jisung shifted, hands and mouth falling away from you. Then you felt his clothed chest against yours and opened your eyes to see the two men sharing a sloppy, open mouthed kiss over your shoulder. You moaned again, cunt clenching at the sight so close to you. Entranced, you watched and heard Ji whimper when Min nipped his bottom lip.

Then Jisung backed away from you completely, stripping himself quickly, and sitting between your spread legs, near your feet. You tilted your head in confusion, only to receive a mischievous smile in return. Minho’s hands slid down your body, one coming to rest on your hip, the other lightly running over your pussy. You whined, trying to push yourself more firmly against his hand, only to be held in place by the hand on your hip. Without warning, he quickly shoved his middle finger into you, chuckling when you clenched around him.

“You’re so wet already, Kitten.” He thrust his middle finger into you a few times, quickly adding his index. “Do you like Sungie watching you?” Minho’s voice was husky, right next to your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. You nodded, hands flailing to find something to grip as he slid his two fingers up to your clit. You grabbed his thighs, holding on tightly. “That’s good. Usually, he likes being watched too. But right now, he’s gonna sit there and watch while you fall apart on just my fingers.” Something in the way he said it sounded like both a promise and a threat.

He rubbed firm circles against your clit, then slid his fingers back into your cunt, thrusting firmly and as deep as he could, given his position behind you. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, giving you enough pressure, but not quite enough friction. You writhed against his chest, trying to give yourself friction from his hand, but unable to get enough purchase to move much with the way he held your hip and your legs open.

Between your feet, Jisung smoothed his fingertips along both you calves. “Feel good, baby? His fingers are amazing, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” you nodded desperately, moaning when Minho switched back to circling your clit.

“You’re so responsive, Kitten. Will you be the same for Ji when he buries his face in your cute little pussy? Hm? Gonna squirm on his tongue like you are on my fingers?” You whimpered, squirming in his hold just like he said you were.

“Can’t wait to taste you, sweet girl. Wanna feel and taste you cum on my tongue. You’ll do that for me, right?” You felt like a bobble head doll with the way you were constantly nodding at the two men, but were struggling to form coherent words to answer with already.

Minho curled his fingers in you, rapidly rubbing against the spongy part of your walls that had you seeing stars. In a distant part of your mind, you realized that you were building to your orgasm faster than you ever did, even when it was just you. Then Minho shifted his hand, somehow managing to massage your g-spot and flick his thumb over your clit at the same time.

“Ah,” your back arched, head tossed back against Minho’s shoulder, as your orgasm washed through you.

“Good girl,” Minho praised, rubbing his hand against your hip soothingly, still slowly working his fingers in you as he helped you ride the aftershocks. You whined at the praise, clenching around him as you came down from your high.

You barely had time to register Minho bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean before Jisung was flat on his belly between your legs, mouth pressed to your pussy, hands gripping your thighs.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, hips trying to lift toward him, but unable to move far. “Sungie,” you whined his name, reaching down to clutch his shoulder as he laved his tongue over your already soaked pussy, tongue darting between your lips then flicking over your clit.

“It’s one of his favorite fantasies you know,” Minho spoke with his lips right next to your ear. “Eating you out, I mean. He’s got this fantasy of laying you out on our bed or the couch or anywhere really, and just devouring your pussy for hours,” he ran his fingers through Jisung’s hair as he spoke, pressing his boyfriend’s face firmly against your cunt. “Well, that and watching our cum leak out of you. But that’s both of us who wanna claim you that way. Know that your ours. Gonna let Ji fuck you first so I can fuck his cum into you.” You felt Jisung moan against your clit, his lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves. Your legs twitched where they were still held open by Minho’s legs, desperately wanting to wrap around Jisung’s head and hold him there.

“You’ll let us, right Kitten? Let Ji then me cum inside your pretty cunt, fill you up? Hm?”

“Yes. Yes please,” you nodded wildly, fingers digging into Minho’s thigh and Jisung’s shoulder.

You felt the satisfied hum more than you heard it. “Such a good girl for us,” he praised softly, pulling matching moans from you and Jisung. The hand not tangled in his boyfriend’s hair slid up your torso to tease your nipples.

You were building to another orgasm quickly, panting and moaning in Minho’s arms. You weren’t sure if it was their skill and enthusiasm, that you were just that turned on, or just because it was Minho and Jisung, that had you so sensitive and cumming quicker – and harder – than usual.

Jisung’s tongue slid down your folds, thrusting as deep into your cunt as he could, pressing his face tighter against you in an effort to get deeper. You could feel him whine against you, like he was disappointed that he couldn’t fuck you deeper with his tongue. But the vibrations of his whine had another gush of arousal flowing from you and his responding moan had you clenching around his tongue. His nose moved against your clit with every movement of his lips and tongue as he continued devouring you.

Minho leaned down, sucking a bruise against the top of your shoulder. At the same time, Jisung shifted, sucking your clit into his mouth and batting the bundle of nerves with his tongue. Both sensations, coupled with Minho’s fingers still teasing your nipple, was enough to have you arching again, another orgasm rolling through you.

You were barely able to catch your breath as Jisung hovered over you, leaning over your shoulder and pressing his lips to Minho’s. You felt Minho groan, the sound vibrating in his chest where you were still pressed together. Still coming down from your high, it took a couple seconds for you to realize that the two of them were pushing and pulling you to lie back. You rested back against Minho, who shifted so that he was somewhat propped against their pillows and your head was now resting on the bottom of his ribs. So you weren’t laying flat, but you weren’t sitting up anymore.

“Hey pretty girl,” Jisung smiled down at you, gently squeezing your hip, as he broke away from his boyfriend’s lips.

“Hi Sungie,” you smiled up at him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and weaving your fingers into the ends of his hair.

“Still okay, baby?”

Distantly, you were touched that he checked in with you, but right then, you didn’t care. You tugged the ends of his hair gently and said, “If you don’t fuck me soon, Sungie….”

Behind you, Minho chuckled, bringing his hands up to rest on your belly. “Yeah, you’re doing just fine, aren’t you?” You felt him lean down and nuzzle his nose against the top of your head for a moment.

Jisung knelt between your thighs, knees wide and sliding them under your thighs. He leaned over you, bracing one hand on Minho’s thigh while holding the base of his cock with the other. He held your gaze as he teased his cockhead between your lips, bumping your clit on every upward stroke.

“Sungie,” you whined, wiggling your hips as best as you could in the position you were held in, trying to get him into you. He smiled softly down at you, then rolled his hips. Your hand tightened in his hair with a long, low moan as he fully sheathed his cock in you with one smooth motion.

“Oh god,” he whimpered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and breathing deeply. You could feel his abs twitching slightly against you as he obviously worked to control himself and give you a moment to adjust before rutting into you like he wanted.

You felt Minho’s hand join yours in his hair. “She feel good, Sung? As good as we’ve always thought she would?”

“Better. God, Min, she feels so good. So wet,” he pressed an open mouthed kiss to your neck, “so warm,” you felt him lick at then suck a hickey into the same spot on your neck, “so perfect,” he propped himself up again to capture your lips this time.

You gently sucked his lower lip into your mouth, swiping over it with your tongue and pulling a low moan and responding hard thrust from him. Minho’s hands, which had been comfortably settled on your belly, slid up to cup both your boobs. You moaned, breaking away from Jisung’s mouth, arching into Minho’s hands as he pinched, rolled, and generally teased both nipples at once.

“So responsive, sweet girl.” Deciding you’d clearly adjusted enough, Jisung rolled his hips, steadily picking up speed until you were rocking against Minho. Whines and moans constantly fell from your lips under the combined sensations of Jisung’s cock in you and Minho’s hands on your tits.

You could feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm, and you clearly weren’t the only one who could. “You’re clenching pretty hard, baby,” Jisung offered a soft, dreamy sort of smile. “You gonna cum again? Gonna cum all over my cock for me?”

“Yes,” you whined, purposefully clenching around him again.

Minho slipped out from behind you, moving to lay beside you. “Wanna see your face when you cum on Ji’s cock, Kitten,” he muttered, running his fingers lightly over your torso. His touch wasn’t particularly sexual, but it felt like he was leaving a trail of fire under your skin wherever he touched.

Jisung adjusted, leaning back on his heels and pulling your hips flush against his, causing your back to arch. “Oh god,” you moaned out, the change in angle letting him fuck deeper into you. You reached over to Minho, intent on grabbing some part of him, only to hit fabric. “How – ah – you still dressed?”

“Because he’s infuriating. Lets him think he’s still in control,” Jisung huffed out.

“Want skin,” you whined, tugging his shirt and causing both men to chuckle at you. Minho rolled away from you, standing up beside the bed and quickly stripping himself. You watched, Jisung pulling small moans from you with every thrust of his hips. As soon as Minho tossed his boxers away, you were reaching out for him.

“I know,” Jisung agreed, voice breathy as he leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your sternum. “He looks so good, doesn’t he?”

“Mm-hm,” you nodded quickly, wrapping your hand around Minho’s wrist as he climbed back onto the bed and settled beside you. You tugged the hand you were holding up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm, before licking a thick stripe up his palm and wrapping your lips around two of his fingers.

Both men groaned at your actions, then Minho started thrusting his two fingers into your mouth. “Do you like that, Kitten?” You moaned around his fingers, swirling your tongue around the two digits. “Maybe next time I’ll fuck your mouth while Ji’s in your cunt, hm?”

You moaned again, pussy clenching at the thought. “Heh,” Jisung huffed a laugh. “Think she likes that idea, Min. Gripped me so tight.” He tightened his grip on your hips, making you arch your back a little more.

“There’s so many things we wanna do with you.” He pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing the wet digits down your neck then over one nipple, rubbing light circles around it as it pebbled under his touch. You could feel your orgasm building, the coil in your belly getting tighter the more Minho talked and teased. “Let Sungie fuck you while I fuck him. Or let both of us fuck you together – one of us in your ass and the other in your pussy. Would you like that baby?” He leaned over you, laving his tongue over the nipple he wasn’t teasing. He wrapped his lips over the bud, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it, finally releasing it when it was hard before switching sides and giving the other the same treatment.

“God. Both feel so good,” you groaned out, purposefully clenching around Jisung’s cock as you buried a hand in Minho’s hair to hold him against you.

“Yeah? Bet Haneul never made you feel this good, huh?” Minho asked, venom lacing his words.

“Who?” They both chuckled.

“Good girl,” Minho praised, fingers trailing down to rub firm circles against your clit. You whined, legs and pussy clenching around Jisung as the coil in your belly finally snapped, your third orgasm rushing through you. Jisung didn’t slow his thrusts, working you through your aftershocks.

After several more thrusts, you felt Ji pull almost all the way out, leaving just a little more than the head of his cock in you, and not thrust back in. You whimpered, almost disappointed, then abruptly cutting off as you caught sight of his hand stroking the part of his cock that wasn’t buried in you. He gave you a spacy sort of smile, rubbing his hand in soothing motions over your belly. He tossed his head back just as you felt his cockhead twitch and his cum flood into you. After only a few seconds to catch his breath, Jisung pulled the rest of the way out of you and you felt his cum leak out of you.

“God, baby. Look so good with my cum in you,” Jisung moaned.

Minho swooped in, bending close and swiping his tongue up your slit, catching the cum that was leaking out of you. Quickly, he leaned back up and pressed his lips to yours, slipping his cum-covered tongue into your mouth. You groaned, sucking the salty liquid off his tongue and pulling an echoed groan from him.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, pulling away from your mouth as he slotted himself between your thighs, sliding into your cunt in one smooth stroke. “Like the way your and Sungie’s cum tastes together?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly.

Jisung whined, leaning over you and licking into your mouth, chasing any taste that remained.

Minho wrapped his arms under your legs and leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, and planting his hands on either side of your head. “Not gonna last long, Kitten. Think you still got one more in you?”

You nodded frantically, grabbing his forearm beside you, the other hand reaching out to Jisung, who’d moved to lay beside you.

“Got himself all worked up before he even got inside you. Poor Min,” Jisung teased. Minho shot him a half hearted glare, but the younger man just chuckled. He leaned in close to you, pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck, snaking a hand between you and Minho so he could tease your nipples. “Feels amazing around your cock, doesn’t she?”

Minho groaned in response, head dropping forward, hair falling forward enough to tickle your chest.

You felt Jisung’s lips trail up toward your ear and heard him mutter, “Beg him. Watch his eyes.”

Trusting him, you did exactly as he asked. “Min,” you whined, voice breathy. “Fuck me. Please, Min. Need you,” you added, purposely clenching around his cock. You breath was knocked out of you with a gasp as Minho started pistoning into you, like he was trying to fuck you into the mattress. You watched his eyes flash, something almost feral about the way he looked down at you. “Oh god,” you moaned, fingernails digging into his forearm.

“I know,” you could hear the grin in Jisung’s voice, right by your ear. “I love it when he gets like this. Like he just has to claim you, all because you begged a little. And he looks so good fucking you, doesn’t he? Our pretty man.” You whimpered with Jisung’s words. “Hm, wonder what pulled that? Was it ‘our’?” You nodded, body rocking with the force of Minho’s thrusts. “He is, ya know. He told you, we won’t let you go now. You’re ours and we’re yours.”

He pinched and rolled first one nipple then the other, moans and whines still falling from your lips. “Hear that, baby? Can you hear how sloppy your cunt is for Min?” You could, easily hearing the squelching sounds every time Minho thrust into you. “Your cum and mine all mixed in there for him? Can’t wait till he fills you up too, make you even more messy for us. Ruin our pretty baby for anyone other than us.”

He whined, leaning up to claim your lips in a sloppy kiss. “Can’t believe we finally get you to ourselves,” he groaned, pulling away enough to trail kisses along your jaw and neck. His fingers hadn’t stopped teasing and groping at your tits, though he did whine a bit when he realized there wasn’t room for him to get his mouth on them with the way Minho had you bent in half. Instead, he settled for sprinkling open-mouthed kisses and licks all over the skin he could reach, even as he continued to talk. “You’re so perfect for us, baby. Promise we’ll be perfect to you too. Love you all the time.”

You whined, clenching tightly around Minho. “Ah,” he smiled down at you. “Love you, Kitten.” You clenched again, this time with your last orgasm crashing over you. Minho kept up the speed of his thrusts, chasing his own high now. He’d been right, it didn’t take much before he was stilling and you could feel his cock twitching inside you, his cum filling you and leaking out around his cock.

He slipped his arms out from under you legs, gently moving them down to the bed. He slid his softening cock out of you, pulling a small whine from you at the feeling.

Jisung shifted, so he could see you pussy. You should probably have felt some kind of embarrassment at the way they were looking at you, but you were feeling too good to care. “We were right,” Minho commented. “You look so good, all messy from both of us filling you up.”

You whined again, just barely a protest, slightly kicking your legs against the bed sheets, then wincing at the soreness in your muscles. Both of them noticed and exchanged quick looks that you didn’t have the brain power to interpret. Minho rolled toward his side of the bed, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling out paper towels and baby wipes. Together, the pair of them carefully cleaned you up, then lay down beside you, each man gently massaging your hips and thighs.

Under their combined ministrations, you started to feel sleep pulling at you. After a couple minutes, they relaxed on either side of you, each resting a hand on your belly.

“Kitten, did you have plans this weekend?”

“Don’t you mean, do I, not did?”

“I do not. I mean, if you had plans, you should cancel them and spend the weekend here with us.”

“Oh really?”

“Mm-hm. We should take you out on a proper date. Or at least have a proper at-home date. Treat you right, like you should be treated.”

“Mm,” you smiled. “Suppose I could be persuaded to drop my plans for that.”

“Good,” Jisung gave you a sleepy smile, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Nap first though.” He scooted closer to you, tossing a leg over yours and tucking his face down against your shoulder. You and Minho chuckled, but neither made any move to dissuade him. Instead, Minho wrapped an arm around both of you, tucking the other under your neck and tugging your head under his chin. Slowly, you drifted off between your two men.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #Minsung x reader #stray kids x reader

232 notes · View notes

melanchoire · 2 days ago

Note

g!p danjangz using reader as their cock sleeve ☹️ reader cant do anything about it cause she knows she's been a very bad girl being so impatient and realizes she has to take all the abuse they do to her pussy ☹️☹️

cw: breeding + creampie, deep throat, degradation, hair pulling, throat fucking.

your two girlfriends punishing you after misbehaving throughout the outing with you guy’s group of friends 😓 at one point, the outing was starting to bore you and you just wanted to go home and be alone with your girlfriends, but neither of them seemed to share the same feeling! gaeul having fun joking around with her friends and wonyoung smiling slightly seeing her partner having a great time and looking happy, both completely unaware that you were feeling this outing with friends as torture

starting to do things to get their attention, like looking at gaeul like you wanted to devour her in a way that was too obvious and going so far as to blatantly grab her butt at a time when she was talking to a couple of friends and had a very serious conversation… or getting all clingy with wonyoung and trying to be cuddly in public when she can barely give you soft kiss pecks because she prefers cuddles during intimacy and even going so far as to grope her cock over her pants and try to grind you against her at one point in the afternoon sitting on her lap when she was just hugging you from behind...

and when you got home and that door closed on you, you were more than aware of the consequences that were coming...

“can you explain to me why you were in a bad mood all day, (y/n)?”

but you tried to keep up the attitude even when you were alone with them! starting with gaeul, your sweet girlfriend who was always a complete sweetheart with you in bed and always prioritized your pleasure before hers 😣 and you were daring to behave like a bitch here TOO?!

so when you decide to ignore gaeul, not answering her question and giving her a death glare when you stay silent, you think maybe you could give them the silent treatment and be the one in charge tonight, but no! all it takes is for wonyoung to grab your hair in a strong grip and with a hard pull turn your face so you look into her eyes, completely taking you out of your tough girl façade and making you always return to the pathetic submissive that you’re for both of them ❤️

“gaeul is talking to you.” even when wonyoung talks to you in a serious tone and gives you a look that would make you pee your pants, you still have the guts to try to give attitude and try to get your way today

but they are smarter than you, so they know better than anyone what your tactics are and what you have in mind

ending up kneeling on the bed, your clothes discarded on the floor, your two girlfriends in front of the bed arguing in low voices and talking to each other with their naked cocks before your eyes �� seeming to be debating who should fuck you first, oblivious to how the mere sight of theirs cocks was making a mess between your legs and you could swear you had started to drip at some point…

gaeul joining you on the bed, kneeling behind you and running her hands down your sides in a way that made you dizzy and your head spin… you turned your face to the side to try to kiss her, but no! gaeul moves her face away before you can even try to do anything

“uh–uh, love. you were being pretty bad girl today. i don’t think you deserve kisses.”

and before you could answer anything, wonyoung appears again to torment you 😇 taking your jaw with her hand and forcing you to lean forward, without needing to say a word because her look is more than enough to know that she wants you to get on all fours 🥰

gaeul fucking your pussy from behind while wonyoung uses your mouth 😵‍💫 as much as gaeul was angry and upset because you were quite bratty today, she can’t be mad at you at all because she can’t force herself to be rude when she's naturally super nice and loving to you 🥺

and on the other hand there is wonyoung who holds your head still in place by means of her fist pulling your hair into a ponytail while she fucks her cock inside your mouth to the point of making you drool 🫠 she was so pissed off because you had ruined a whole great outing with friends just because you didn’t know how and when to behave, all because you seemed to be thinking with your pussy instead of your head, but no problem! wonyoung was more than willing to fuck you and use you like a useless doll until you understand how to behave and listen to your girlfriends when they talk 💕

and both are very loud 😩 gaeul is a little more shy when it comes to sounds, so she would try to keep the volume of her moans low, biting her lip to cover them a little or forcing her voice to silence for a while, completely opposite to wonyoung who seems to have the goal of making the whole neighborhood listen to her

“acting like a bitch in front of our friends, fuck– this is what you wanted, right? to be treated like the whore you are?” wonyoung asks, but it’s a rhetorical question since the way her cock is buried deep in your throat, you both know you have no way to answer

both cumming inside you at the same time 💕 gaeul digging her fingers into your flesh, letting out a soft moan as she cums inside your pussy and paints all your walls with her semen — while wonyoung is rougher and sloppier, her grip on your hair being tighter and rougher than before, holding your head in place but pushing your face into her pelvis as she gives one last thrust against your mouth and thrusts her hips against your face, giving you zero escape from trying to refuse to swallow her semen, cumming in your mouth

and if you think this is where things end, you’re very wrong! because gaeul hasn’t fucked your mouth yet, and wonyoung hasn’t fucked your pussy yet. so you have a looong night ahead of you

192 notes · View notes

binisainz · 3 days ago

Text

lucky taps ⸻ 𐙚 ⸻ carlos sainz x reader

word count. 2.8k feat. established relationship, fluff, semi-long distance, labubu hate author's note. binisainz finally having a cs55 fic up ?? i never thought i'd live to see the day !! anyways, this is based on this photo of carlos carrying a popmart bag in shanghai and i was like. ok bet. i am exposing my love for popmart blind box figurines… i have spent too much on these mfs so i might as well make a fic out of it !! dedicated to the lovely kae ( @tsunodaradio ) because they suggested the ending and i was like… no ure right … ure so right . anyway qotd what do u think carlos sainz is collecting check out the rest of my work !!

carlos comes home the same way he always does— keys clattering into the dish by the front door, a deep sigh like he’s clocking out of being carlos sainz and back into being just yours.

“mi amor?” his voice drifts in, laced with just the slightest bit of confusion.

“yes?” you don’t look up from your phone, lazily stretched out on the couch, one leg bent at the knee, fingers absently tapping at the screen.

you hear him step closer, the shift of his weight across the hardwood, the quiet pause that comes before— “why is there a little… scarecrow on the coffee table?”

that makes you glance up, just in time to see the small furrow in his brow, the way his mouth presses slightly at the corners. you shift, propping yourself up on your elbow to follow his gaze.

“that’s my hirono,” you say simply, as if that explains everything.

carlos blinks at you, then at the figurine, then back at you again. “your what?” he asks as he bends down, takes the figurine in his hands, turning it over carefully, examining the details. he treats it like something delicate, like maybe it’ll break if he looks at it too hard.

“hirono,” you repeat, dragging out the syllables, already predicting the conversation to come. “it’s a blind box figurine. you buy it without knowing which one you’re gonna get.”

his brows draw together, deeper this time, the gears in his head visibly turning. you can see the exact moment it clicks— there’s a small flash of realization, the barest twitch of his lips. “so you just… pay for it and hope you get the one you want?” he asks, skeptical.

you grin, shrugging. “pretty much.”

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he sets the figurine back down with the same measured care. “you could just buy the one you want,” he points out, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“where’s the fun in that?” you shoot back, sitting up fully now, tucking your legs beneath you. “it’s about the thrill. the suspense.”

he looks at you, the soft tilt of his head betraying the fact that he’s still trying to wrap his head around it. “so you like not knowing?”

you hum, considering. “more like… i like the moment before, you know? when it could be anything.”

carlos watches you for a beat longer, then shakes his head again, a small, affectionate smile tugging at his lips. “you are impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no real exasperation in his tone, only fondness. then, without hesitation, he leans down, cupping your jaw gently as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, as he’s done a thousand times before.

a few days later, you come home with two more boxes, setting them down on the kitchen counter with a flourish. carlos, sitting at the island with a half-eaten banana in one hand, eyes them with mild suspicion.

“again?”

you huff. “yes, again. but this time, you’re doing it with me.”

he chews slowly, watching you like you’ve just presented him with some grand experiment. then he swallows, licking a bit of banana off his thumb. “what am i supposed to do?”

“first,” you say, grabbing a box, turning it to its side where twelve colorful iterations of the same character are drawn, “we have to pick which ones we want.” you tap one illustration, and then the next. “i want the mantel clock or the circus one.”

he barely glances at the options before pointing decisively at the secret figurine.

you snort. “that one has, like, a one in a hundred forty-four chance.”

he shrugs. “so?”

so, nothing. he’s already made up his mind. and you know him— you know he’s stubborn enough to manifest his own luck, to tilt the universe in his favor through sheer force of will.

“okay, but now we have to do lucky taps,” you say, passing him his box.

his brows furrow. “what?”

you demonstrate, tapping your fingers rhythmically along the sides of your own box. “it’s for good luck. you have to do it.”

carlos stares at you for a moment, unimpressed, then down at his box. he exhales, then mimics your movement, albeit a little clumsily, his fingertips drumming against the cardboard. “this is silly.”

“yeah, but now you’re invested. committed, even.”

you grab your phone, setting it up to record. “okay, let’s do this.”

the sound of crinkling plastic fills the space as you both peel open your boxes. you pull yours out first. a tiny alien stares back at you. your face immediately drops.

“ugh,” you groan, sagging against the counter. “literally the only one i didn’t want.”

carlos makes a sound, half-laugh, half-smug amusement, as he inspects his own. you glance at him, then do a double-take.

he’s holding the secret figurine.

you jaw drops, eyes quickly darting from looking at him, at it, at him again. “are you kidding me?”

his expression shifts slowly into that familiar smugness, the kind that makes you want to shove him. he inspects the figurine like it’s some grand prize, turning it between his fingers, lips curving into a grin. “i thought this was supposed to be rare,” he says, all false innocence.

“it is,” you grumble, crossing your arms. “but of course you would get it.”

carlos sets his box down on the counter, hand reaching out to pull you closer. “mi amor,” he murmurs, his voice dipping just enough to make something curl in your stomach. his hands find your waist, fingers pressing lightly, teasing. “don’t be upset.”

“i’m not upset,” you huff, but you are pouting, and you know it, and he knows it, and he’s enjoying this far too much.

“you can have it,” he offers. “would that make you feel better?”

you exhale, slow, exaggerated. “it’s not as good as pulling it myself,” you admit, just a little petulant, but then you soften, leaning into him despite yourself. “…but okay.”

he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple, and just like that, the loss doesn’t sting quite as much.

at first, it’s funny. cute, even. carlos, for all his teasing, starts showing a little too much interest in your blind boxes. it begins small—offhand questions here and there, the way he lingers just a second longer when you’re opening a new one, watching your reaction like he’s pretending not to care. but then it escalates.

he gets way too into it. concerningly into it.

it’s not long before you catch him scrolling through an online store at breakfast, staring at the thumbnail images of different collections with a furrowed brow like he’s analyzing race data. another time, you hear him mutter something about “box weight ratios” under his breath while holding one up at a shop.

the moment you call him out, he waves it off, says he’s just doing it for you. “you like them, no?” he says, kissing the side of your head like that’s the end of the conversation. “i just want you to get the ones you like.”

except, somehow, the ones you like aren’t the only ones he’s getting.

the 2025 season starts, and it doesn’t take long for fans to catch on. one race weekend, he’s photographed carrying a popmart bag in the hotel lobby. the next, someone spots him in the paddock, a tiny figurine peeking out from his backpack. the internet is quick— memes start to circulate, threads pop up analyzing every single one of his figurine choices. he keeps claiming it’s for you. he really does. but you know better.

“mi amor,” he complains one night, sprawled out on the hotel couch beside you, scrolling through a list of upcoming releases. it’s one of the rare times you join him for a grand prix. “all your hironos look the same.”

you gasp, smacking his arm. “excuse me?”

“they do,” he insists, grinning when you glare at him. “little hats, little sad faces… no difference.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, mister ‘i only buy these for you.’”

he huffs out a laugh, still very much pretending he’s doing this entirely out of love for you. but you bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

and it comes, two weeks later, when he’s japan, and you’re on a late-night video call together. he’s lounging in his hotel room, hair still damp from a shower, dressed in one of his old team shirts. you’re curled up in bed, listening to him ramble about his day when something on his bedside table catches your attention.

a fucking labubu box.

your eyes narrow. “oh, so you say my hironos all look the same, but you like labubus now?”

carlos freezes, eyes darting to the box behind him like he forgot it was even there. then, without missing a beat, he leans forward, grabbing it and holding it up to the camera. “but, mi amor, look! they have different colors!”

“oh, and my hironos don’t?”

he shakes his head, clearly enjoying himself. “not like these, no.”

you let out an exaggerated, scandalized gasp, dramatically flopping back against your pillows. “i can’t believe this betrayal. all this time, i thought you were supporting me, but now you’ve chosen a side— and it’s the opposing side, mind you!”

carlos chuckles, setting the box back down, his voice dropping just slightly—playful, teasing. “you love me anyway.”

and, well. he’s right.

it turns into a thing. somehow.

your comments section floods with people asking for your favorite figurines, demanding to know which sets you’re into. you give them a list, thinking nothing of it, just casually mentioning your favorites. but by the next race weekend, fans are already showing up with those exact figurines, handing them to carlos at every turn. multiple people. at different times.

there’s a video you find later of him grinning, holding up one of the boxes, murmuring a— “thank you! mi corazón would love these…”

the last part, the way his voice drops into something softer, something warm, plays on loop in your head as you scroll through tiktok later that night. you hover over the like button for half a second before giving in, adding a comment:

yourusername i do like it! please make sure he doesn’t hog it all to himself 😀

the internet, as per usual, goes crazy.

carlos is in miami, and you’re in monaco, which means the time zone gods are, once again, are against you. it’s late— too late— but your phone rings anyway, and you already know what this is about before you even pick up.

you rub at your eyes, propping your phone up on the pillow as carlos holds up his latest haul to the camera, grinning. “look, mi amor,” he says, adjusting the lighting so you can properly see. “i found peach riot!”

you squint. “you don’t even like peach riot.”

he waves you off. “sí, sí, but they had them at the store, and i had to try.”

you groan, shifting deeper under the covers. you know exactly what this is. it’s not about the figurines, not really—it’s about the thrill, the rush of unboxing something, the chase for the rarest one.

carlos digs through the bag, holding up a single box. “okay, i’ll open just one.”

you sigh, heavy with sleep. “baby, it’s almost 2 a.m. for me. can you please just open it?”

he gasps, offended. “well, no! i have to do lucky taps first!”

of course he does. he’s fully committed now.

you watch, exasperated but endeared, as he taps the sides of the box in that almost ritualistic way you taught him— except he’s exaggerating it, dragging his fingertips along the sides with a level of precision that is, quite frankly, unnecessary. he’s doing too much. and yet, you can’t bring yourself to stop him, a soft, tired smile on your lips.

“okay, okay,” he murmurs, hyping himself up before finally peeling off the plastic wrap and tearing the foil packet open. you blink, barely able to keep your eyes open, as he peers inside. his expression shifts—eyebrows jumping, mouth parting slightly before curling into an all-too-smug grin.

he flips the figurine around to show you. the secret. your smile immediately drops.

you let out a long, suffering groan before immediately hanging up the call.

curse you, boyfriend luck!

he calls back not even a minute later.

you answer, squinting at him through the screen, still burrowed under your blanket. carlos, barely holding back laughter, holds up the figurine again. “corazón,” he coos, all sweet and coaxing. “do you want it?”

you glare. “it’s not the same if i don’t pull it myself.”

he pouts, tilting his head. “but i’ll give it to you.”

you bury your face into your pillow, groaning again.

monaco feels different when carlos is home. the apartment, normally so quiet when he's away, hums with the warmth of him— his shoes by the door, his jacket slung carelessly over the couch, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. it’s a race weekend, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re both in the same city again.

it also means carlos is finally seeing, with his own eyes, just how out of hand things have gotten.

a small corner of the living room— what used to be an empty space, clean and minimalist— is now home to a shelf. a full - on shelf. dedicated entirely to the growing collection of figurines you and carlos have amassed over the past few months. rows and rows and rows of figurines now meticulously arranged by series.

you stare at it, arms crossed, lips pursed. carlos, standing beside you, mirrors your stance, rubbing his chin like he’s assessing a piece of fine art.

a long silence stretches between you before you finally say it: “…are we addicted?”

carlos tilts his head, considering. then, without missing a beat— “no.”

you shoot him a look.

he grins. “just committed.”

the blind box obsession wanes, thankfully, though it's not out of disinterest but out of practicality. the season is in full throttle now, the races stacking up one after another, and you’ve been following carlos around the last few stops, which means any new purchases would just be another thing to stuff into an already overpacked suitcase. there’s no time to carefully stack boxes into the shelf back home.

which is why, when you open your eyes on your birthday in your las vegas hotel suite and find a blind box set sitting in front of you, you burst out laughing.

carlos, kneeling in front of you on the couch, looks incredibly pleased with himself. “feliz cumpleaños, mi amor,” he says, watching you with that warm, expectant gaze of his.

“oh my god,” you breathe out, picking up the box, flipping it over in your hands. “carlos.”

it’s not just any blind box set. it’s custom. you look at the packaging, the familiar yet unfamiliar design, and then you see it—your name, carlos’ name, and little illustrated versions of you both printed on the side, mimicking the style of an official collection.

upon closer inspection, the potential figurines include versions of you in your favorite outfits, carlos in his williams race suit, casual wear, even one of him holding a miniature trophy from when he finished p1 in barcelona. there’s even a secret edition, blurred out in a question mark like a real chase figurine.

you blink at it, overwhelmed, before looking up at him. “you got us made into blind boxes?”

carlos grins.

“how?”

“i have my ways.” he shrugs.

“you have a full racing calendar.”

he shrugs, like organizing a fully custom blind box production in the middle of a title fight is just a casual side project. “i planned ahead.”

you shake your head, flipping the box around in disbelief. “you’re actually insane.”

“open one.”

you tear into the packaging, ripping the foil open with probably more force than necessary. the little figurine falls into your palm, and when you turn it over, you nearly lose it. it’s you, down to the details of the outfit you wore the first time carlos ever took you to the paddock, your hair styled just right, the tiny features painstakingly accurate, even if it's just a stylized version of you.

you stare at it, and carlos leans in, nudging your shoulder. “cute, no?”

“carlos.”

“hmm?”

you exhale, shaking your head, but you can’t stop smiling. “this is insane.”

he leans back against the couch, smug. “you love it.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “don’t act like you didn’t make yourself the secret edition.”

his expression doesn’t change. “i am a rare find.”

you shove him, and he laughs, catching your wrist, tugging you into him. “okay, okay,” he concedes, pressing a kiss to your temple, his voice softer now. “but i wanted to give you something special. something just for you.”

you glance down at the box, the tiny, perfect versions of you both, and something warm settles in your chest. you shake your head, exhaling through a smile. “you really are addicted.”

carlos grins, tilting his head. you’re already leaning in, just slightly, like he’s some gravitational pull you’ve long since stopped resisting.

he meets you halfway, his breath fanning against your lips as he murmurs— soft, smug, as he goes: “eh, just committed.”

214 notes · View notes

mina-org · 3 days ago

Text

young thing on the down town scene

୨୧ yandere!aged up!mafia!John Price x reader

୨୧ tw: reader has a kid, stalking, misunderstanding, price has internalised toxic masculinity and talk of a shitty dad, implied kidnapping

୨୧ a part of the Art Deco series, I got really frustrated and just posted it.

୨୧ word count: 2600ish

"Uh, sweetheart?" Kyle taps the door gently, interrupting you're 30 minutes of peace, "Mr Price is here to see you. I wouldn’t want to disturb ya but the boss is in a proper sour mood, need ya to sweeten him up for us, yeah?"

You nod. it had become a common occurrence now, one of his business deals or whatever he did would go wrong and Kyle or Johnny or ghost would drop him off and you’d entertain him, make him endless drinks, tell him about your studies or just listen to him ramble endlessly. Your back turned away from the door as you pack up your lunch, cleaning up any dishes you had dirtied.

"sweetheart?" Alessia’s voice is hardly above a whisper as she moves closer. "Mr price is closing the shop earlier but he wants to talk to you about like an audit thing I think."

" Of course," you reply, not even bothering to look up and met her eyes, she nice, a little quiet, but nice. it was a fine line, pay too much attention to a coworker? they’d be fired. come off as disliking them? fired.

it was a balancing act you usually failed at, if price’s eyes weren't glued on you he had Kyle watching you and usually ghost watching him. Johnny used to come but you laughed a little too hard at one too many jokes so now he smokes outside, in hell or high-water, once he waited in the hail for like 30 minutes, you weren't sure if that was a punishment to Johnny or a warning, probably both.

John grins, taking in the familiar scene of the coffee shop around him, customers, staff, his own men all file out and, finally, he’ll have sometime alone with his sweetheart. His eyes shine as they lock onto you. You stir his tea, in his cup, as you stand in clothes he brought, you stand in his kitchen, well not his home kitchen but he’s working on it.

As if reading his thoughts, Kyle leaves, in thee blink of an eye, he’s gone. The cafe is empty.

It’s just you and price.

crickets

A shiver runs down your spine, sure Mr price, no John, is nice, play dumb he likes it. while he’s never done anything physical, he’s always gone a little or a lot too far. Though your complaints fell on death ears, your friends said you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and if you really wanted to discourage you probably wouldn’t take him up on every offer; he paid you double the normal salary and you only worked every other weekend, you could afford to go back to uni, a childminder and a vacation loomed in your future, something you didn’t think you’d be able to give your baby. it was too perfect and you didn't want to upset him, didn’t want to take opportunities away from your baby, you can only imagine the tsunami of wreath that would wash over you if you ever quit. John claimed to hold loyalty in high regard, he reminded you, every time. it felt like you were in too deep and it was just easier to play dumb and smile, and hope that women Kate wouldnt get the wrong idea and show up at the cafe, or worse the flat .

“sugar and milk? you ask softly, “not on rations anymore, sunshine.”

sunshine. suddenly all the thoughts of revenge plots, red spots that stain his hands, the fear of letting down his boys, are all washed away when you say that. you watch his face morph into that of a quokka but you have to keep track on all the shady stuff. But, suddenly you don’t wanna question who Kate is (shady), or why she messages him so much (shady 2x), or why he has 10 fingers in 10 different pies (shady 3x), rather why aren’t they in you, yet.

“Go on then,” he says, sitting with a big huff, “ya spoilin’ me sweetheart.”

"How's school been going? you enjoying it? not too much for ya, was never that arty me self." he says, slightly scoffing at the idea of an art degree, price always assumed that stuff spoke for itself but his girl didn't need to worry about a job, he'd take care of you and you could do endless art degrees, as long as you came home to him.

Soon his tea lays in front of him, his thighs spreading, one hand laying on his inner thigh, material pulled taut. He looks so inviting, you could stop avoiding his advances, stop playing dump, but you dont know anything about him and while he talked a lot he said nothing at all. and it was on purpose, you knew that. you were playing the same game.

you open your mouth to talk, assure him that a little sugar hurt never anyone and that school wasn't too much, until a metallic shriek stops you, price is immediately to his feet, guiding you to hide behind the counter, before his usually heavy footsteps turn stealthy and he disappears out the back. A few more metal clangs, the walk in slamming and eventually Brooke? no, no, not his name. One of Kyle’s friend. Brooks, or something, they all had like multiple names, more shady shit, what does bravo six even mean? and why was Kate saved as watcher in his phone? he was obviously just trying to hide his wife or some shit. He’s a man! horrible! ew! you can’t fall for another shitty man.

You don't miss his narrowed eyes, unstable glint shining through as he guides brooks out. His face screaming for silence for Brooks to just, shut the fuck up but the younger man doesn't catch it. “I didn’t mean to disturb you ‘n ya missus” he says, the shit eating grin, you hear something about John robbing the cradle as he’s being dragged out. That look haunts you, you don’t see it often and it’s never directed for you.

You can’t get involved with him. He’s a weird, creepy boss in disguise of a DILF. Your actions have consequences beyond you, echoes in your head.

He’s soon back, ordering you to sit with him and you do, you don’t want to deal with him, much less him angry.

“Ignore him sweetheart, he’s a proper muppet.” His voice is gruff and you nod.

“alessia mentioned an audit,” you say taking a sip of your drink, trying to stir the conversation to a nothing topic, John just says theres an audit when he’s not getting enough attention, of course he’ll talk about standards for a bit but than he’ll start prodding, trying to dissect you.

Soon enough it’s 5, and you can finally cut him off, he knows the look, knows you’ve been watching the clock compulsively since 4:30, which he tries to ignore, only commenting on it a few times. He wants your attention, he can only imagine how you would look when he proposes, the adoration you would send him as he slides the ring onto your finger make it all worth it, all the bloodshed, firing, everything.

“I hate to say, but I've gotta go home John.” Doe eyes gleaming up at him, you look so sorry and so pretty, all for him. You bring your purse to rest on the table top and his hand clamps down as he flicks his head up to signal you to follow him out and you do of course, gotta keep him happy.

“Don’t be in such a rush love, it a’it safe sweetheart, it’s dark and cold, let me drive ya.” it’s not an offer, or an ask. He’s telling you.

A confined space with your creepy boss? What a perfect way to spent 20 minutes.

“What’s the SAS? is that a rank?” you ask so softly

“special air service, sweetheart.” he says smiling, so happy you’re asking him stuff, usually you just nod and hum on the occasion. “Was a captain, how I met the boys.”

“what did you guys do? what wars are happening?” the question slips out and you cringe but you know he loves to mansplain this shit to you and you don’t want to be questioned anymore.

“Things that happen in the dark should stay there, sweetheart” he huffs, eyes staring at the road, it sounds a lot like there is no war in ba sing se, you miss the bitterness that comes up for a second, like acid reflux, you put you’re life on the line, prioritise them over your wives and ruin two marriages and then get dropped off in hopes you’ll freeze to death.

soon enough he watching you leave, throwing him an awkward wave as you cross the street. disappearing into the building while he finds a place a park where you won’t see.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but he just can’t help himself.

He’s knows you don’t live at the building he dropped you off at. How? He only brought the fucking building, he was gonna hike prices under the mask of a faceless corporation and then you’d have to beg him for help. Now he owns an entire block go flats, not a cheap investment but the man does love a damsel.

With his heart racing in his chest, he loves a hunt too, your walk is hurried. You should really be more alert of your surroundings, headphones on, looking straight ahead. He was excited, hormones pumping at this game of cat and mouse but, nothing. he keeps his distance but five minutes into the walk, you completely stop looking around, you even start scrolling on tik tok, that'll be a quick fix once you’re with him, you wont ever be alone, or at least leave the house alone, hes already plotting one too many war crimes, and losing you? May just plunge him to another rock bottom.

Eyes scanning around your form as it disappears up a set of stairs. six flats.

Six.

He licks his lips, truly feeling like the cat who got the cream. he finally got your real address.

of course the street becomes his new favourite spot and people watch, or really watch you but some would call that creepy. Soon enough he spots you leaving, where were you going this early? all your classes started at 12, he had Kyle check that. and in the pissing rain?

Soon enough he sees reason, a small boy dressed in uniform, struggling to zip his coat up as he drags his feet.

It feels like a dream come true, he always wanted a kid but at 40, the insecurities had began to fester, he wasn’t a young man anymore, started having troubles that he didn't have in younger years, new aches made themselves known everyday. he had been been felling less like a man, it didn't help when he was surrounded by men in their prime like SImon, Johnny and Kyle, he couldn't help lashing out at Johnny all those months ago, he knew Johnny wouldn’t go there, but other men would and he felt the difference, sometimes you spoke to him like a teacher or father and he was down for a daddy kink thing but it was more tailoring the truth so you wouldn't get a lecture. It had always been drilled into him, be a man, he remembered the first time he had been reprimanded, for wanting to bake, not go out with his father, who’s outbursts about his masculinity would only become more extreme as he grew up. The idea, the dream of having kids dwindled, stab wounds puncher marks marred it from his past marriages and now his own insecurities had started to infect it.

Why didnt you ever tell him? he can forgive you of course but this will not happen again, he’ll make sure of it.

A few weeks later and price is driving you home from a house, he was supposed to pit up Kyle but he had found his way in to another bed but he couldn’t let his girl walk hime alone, certainly not looking that good.

Soon enough you’re in the car, complaining about a shitty professor, who he’ll be sure to talk to. You’re a little tipsy, the smell of liquor invites you him closer. the car ride is full of flirts and giggles, a hand firmly planted on your upper thigh and soon enough he’s pulled up outside your flat.

You look at him with pretty eyes, such pretty eyes, luring him in and he feels something different. He goes in for a kiss and its like heaven, lips so soft and he get to feel them, for a quarter of a second, you pull away.

"No." His voice is harsh and his grip tightens, digging into your thigh.

“I don't want you John, you have a wife. We can’t do that and I don’t want you.”You know your tone is harsh, but you're hoping that and the fact you’re pushing him away is the slap of reality he needs to let you go.

“I’m divorced, she’s remarried so I can too, don’t fucking talk about it. You don’t mean that, you want me” his voice picks up as does his fist as he pounds on the dashboard, your eyes turn glossy and the shake of your head sends him over the edge, “you don’t fucking mean that. ” ”John, look I have a kid.” you say anxiously blurting out, “You have Kate, I can’t”

“Kate is a friend, don’t assume im lying cause you lie ya fucking arse off. Can’t what? After all I've done of ya sweetheart? can’t give me a chance, bet ya would’ve spread ya legs if Johnny was at that party.” His voice shatters the tipsiness, you realise he’s taken you to your actual apartment. “what’s wrong with me aye? I’ve done every fucking thing for ya. you can hear me out and be honest to me, ya understand that?”

“John, I have a kid. I can’t just get with anyone, I gotta put him first.” you try and get out but the door is locked.

You’re soon met with his laugh, full of bile and bitterness, looking straight into your eyes. “Don’t fucking do that, you I can provide. How would you study and earn enough without me? I take good fucking care of ya and I have been for a year now. You have to give me a chance, sweetheart, a chance and I’ll give you everything.” he growls back, voice low, his eyes fixed on you, his grip only getting tighter, nails punching the skin, he leans in closer and . “You refuse to accept the fact that you’re mine now, and that I’m what’s best for ya and the kid. Gonna’ take you home sweetheart and our kid. The sooner you accept that, and accept me, the sooner we can get back to normal. Even let ya study and you’ll never have to work again. just focus on ya pictures and shit.” patronising, condescending but you couldn't dwell on that, not right now.

“Just let me leave, and we can pretend that none of this happened, okay sunshine?” your voice is soft, a little shaky as you place your hand over his, tracing delicate circles over it. trying to distract him from the fact you’re frantically pressing the off button, phone wedged between your thigh and the passenger seat.

“That isn’t very nice, sweet. After all that I’ve been doing for ya?” the phone is soon snatched away from you. “I don’t think you fully comprehend your situation right now, I already told ya. You’re mine, and I’m not just gonna let ya go so easily. Now stop the lip quivering and get used to it.”

#call of duty #yandere cod mw #yandere cod #call of duty x reader #yandere #yandere john price #john price #john price x reader #yandere john price x reader #yandere captain price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price cod #cod captain price #cod captain john price #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x female reader

159 notes · View notes

lvnleah · 1 day ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/lvnleah/775376995364290560/you-know-who-i-caught-myself-thinking-of-the-other?source=share

Thank you for replying. I have no problem if you don't write my request, just reading some Kyra fic got me thinking about a request like a platonic lionesses one.

May i request arsenal/lionesses x teen reader who is already playing for arsenal team and is in her first season and she is a clown , someone who can barely sit still for a moment and is a huge pest to every player except to kim and Wally because they cook for her and keep her alive. She also stays with leah and is the one who causes Leah's headache along with Kyra and the arsenal youngsters. Her first season with Arsenal has been phenomenal and Sarina noticed and the reader gets called up for her first senior team. Hearting the news reader is so happy while leah and the other english players groan Good naturedly because they now have to deal with their annoying adopted sister not only in the club but also in the lionesses camp. And the other lionesses and Sarina gets a first look of what the reader is going to be when she literally cartwheels to her introduction on the first day of the camp. Just wanted a fluffy fic.

Thank you and have a nice day

chaos on camp | leah williamson.

You had known for a while that your first season at Arsenal was going well. Scoring goals, setting up assists, making life miserable for your teammates, just the usual. But when you got the England senior team call-up, you were gone.

You screamed so loud that the entire training ground probably heard it. Then, instead of celebrating like a normal person, you sprinted around the changing room.

Leah groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. Now we have to deal with you in camp too?”

You barely heard her over your own excitement. “Leah, I get to annoy you everywhere now! Sarina called me up to the England camp!”

“Fantastic,” Alessia muttered, shooting Beth a look. Beth just sighed, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment.

Lia and Kim, however, had the opposite reaction.

“Good,” Lia said, looking way too relieved.

Kim just smiled, hands on her hips. “Now we don’t have to babysit you anymore.”

You gasped dramatically. “You love babysitting me!”

Lia gave you a look. “You set off the fire alarm trying to make toast last week.”

“…Fair point.”

Still, nothing could kill your mood. You had been called up to the England squad.

“Kid, look, if you’re going to the England camp, there’s gonna be rules,” Leah told you that evening as you drove home from training. “I’m proud of you but you need to be serious.”

You turned to her, eyes wide with mock innocence. “I am always serious.”

Leah shot you a flat look. “You did a backflip off the sofa yesterday.”

“To test my agility!”

“You landed on your face.”

“…A minor setback.”

Leah groaned, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “This is what I mean. You can’t just be an agent of chaos at camp. Sarina doesn’t play games.”

You hummed, only half-listening. You were already imagining all the ways you could make everyone suffer like Keira, Ella, Georgia, and Millie. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Leah sighed, recognizing the look on your face. “You’re not listening, are you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Leah muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like why me? But you chose to ignore it. You were far too busy buzzing with excitement.

“Just—please, please don’t embarrass me,” Leah pleaded as she pulled into the driveway.

You gasped, hand over your heart. “Leah, I would never.”

She gave you a long, unimpressed stare. “I have footage of you chasing a pigeon around London Colney last week.”

“It looked lost!”

“It was not lost.”

“Well, we’ll never know now.”

Leah sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m going to need Sarina’s support at this rate.”

You grinned, unbothered by Leah’s clear despair. “Oh, come on, I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going to set anything on fire.”

Leah just gave you a look, stepping out of the car. “That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

You followed her inside, still buzzing with energy. The England call-up wasn’t just a dream come true, it was an opportunity. A chance to prove yourself, to play with some of the best in the world, and, most importantly, to annoy an entirely new group of people.

Leah flopped onto the couch, clearly exhausted from dealing with you. “Look, just try to take it seriously. At least pretend to behave. You don’t want Sarina sending you home after one session.”

You scoffed, dramatically throwing yourself onto the couch beside her. “Oh please. She’s going to love me.”

Leah snorted. “You are severely overestimating your charm.”

“Or you’re underestimating it.”

Before Leah could reply, your phone buzzed. You glanced down and immediately let out a delighted cackle. A new message had popped up in the group chat Keira had added you too, filled with some of the England girls.

Keira: Just heard the news. Can’t believe we have to deal with you now.

Georgia: England training is about to be a circus.

Grace: I’m actually so excited about this.

Millie: If you do anything dumb, I’m throwing you in an ice bath.

You: Wow, the warm welcome. I feel so loved.

You grinned, already imagining the chaos you were going to bring. You turned to Leah, eyes gleaming with mischief. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Leah groaned, pulling a pillow over her face. “I already regret everything.”

The taxi ride to St. George’s Park was eventful, to say the least.

Leah had spent the entire journey alternating between sighing dramatically and making pointed comments about maturity and professionalism, none of which you listened to. Lotte had her headphones in, pretending she didn’t know any of you, and Beth and Alessia kept glancing at each other like they were regretting their life choices.

You, on the other hand, had been bouncing in your seat since you left London, too hyped to sit still. “Do you think they’ll have snacks when we get there? What are the beds like? Does Sarina have a secret fun side? Do you think I can nutmeg Keira before she even says hello?”

Leah groaned. “Can you breathe for five seconds?”

You inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “Done. Anyway, do you think I can convince Sarina to let me have my own room? I snore.”

Beth snorted. “You’re not getting your own room.”

The taxi finally pulled up to the training ground, and before the driver had even properly stopped, you were already unbuckling your seatbelt.

“We’re here!” you announced, shoving the door open and practically launching yourself onto the pavement.

Leah rubbed her temples. “Please let her trip,” she muttered under her breath.

You didn’t trip, but you did nearly run straight into Georgia, who had appeared out of nowhere with a mischievous grin.

“Did you piss Leah off?” Georgia said, clapping you on the shoulder. “We’ve all been mentally preparing for your arrival.”

You smirked. “Are you ready for me?”

Georgia tilted her head. “No.”

Before you could respond, Keira appeared, arms crossed. “Look, as long as you don’t annoy me and just annoy Leah then you’ll be fine, kid.”

You grinned. “I give it two hours before she’s killing me.”

Keira narrowed her eyes. “One.”

Leah sighed, handing her bags to the staff. “I need a strong drink.”

Lotte yawned as she pulled her suitcase out of the taxi. “You need a break.”

Beth patted Leah’s back in fake sympathy. “She’s your problem now, not ours, mate.”

You turned back to Keira and Georgia, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Okay, what’s first? Do we have a meeting? Training? Am I allowed to throw a nutmeg challenge down immediately, or do I have to wait?”

Keira just walked away.

Georgia cackled. “Oh, this is going to be great.”

You had every intention of being serious during your first England training session. You really did.

But then Grace challenged you to a race during the warm-up, and you, being the mature, responsible adult that you were, decided to cartwheel halfway through it instead of running properly.

“FOR GOD’S SAKE,” Leah groaned, hands on her hips as she watched you tumble across the grass.

Grace, doubled over laughing, barely managed to jog the rest of the way. “Oh my God…did you just—”

Sarina’s sharp whistle cut through the air, and everyone instantly straightened up. You popped up from your final cartwheel with a grin, fully expecting some amusement.

You were wrong. So wrong.

Sarina stared at you, unimpressed. “Is this gymnastics?”

You hesitated. “…No?”

“Then why are you cartwheeling?”

You blinked. “To test my agility?”

Leah, from somewhere behind you, groaned into her hands.

Sarina just gave you a long, slow nod, the kind that made you feel like a child being scolded by a teacher. “Try that again, and you’ll be running laps for the next hour.”

You nodded quickly, resisting the urge to salute. “Understood.”

As Sarina turned away, Grace elbowed you. “You’re on thin ice already.”

You shrugged, completely unbothered. “Eh, I like a challenge.”

Keira sighed. “You are the challenge.”

Beth jogged past, shaking her head. “I give it a day before Sarina bans you from doing anything unsupervised.”

Leah groaned even louder. “I hate that I have to deal with you at club and country.”

#lvnleah #engwnt x teen reader #awfc x teen reader #leah williamson x reader #woso x teen reader #woso x reader #leah williamson x teen reader

150 notes · View notes

justagirlswrld · 3 days ago

Text

Help me, invincible, you’re my only hope.

a/n: somebody asked for part 2 and i was like you know what hell yeah lmao. thanks for the likes and reposts!! feed back welcomed. (might delete kind of feel like it sucks lmao)

part 1

warnings: violence, arranged marriage, unprotected p in v. the usual sex stuff.

Mark is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, just reaching deep sleep when he’s jolted awake by the sound of what he thinks is an injured cat.

His head is pounding when he finally finds a thin device wrapped up in a shirt underneath his bed twenty minutes later. He can’t figure out how to stop the aggravating noise and is ready to rip it in half when he remembers what it is.

You had given him the technology the day he left Soloria. Your nimble fingers briefly showing him how to use it to communicate with you. When he finally got it to work the screeching stops and the screen comes to life with the same pale, yellow energy from the transporter.

To Mark’s surprise you appear from the device as a hologram, your skin pastel yellow instead of your usual hues of pink. “This is so cool.”, Mark says in awe.

“Mark Grayson?”, your voice is almost a whisper.

“Just Mark, Y/N.”, Mark sits the tablet down on his desk before standing in front of it. He wants to bring up how you said you’d send a ‘transmission’ before he came back to Earth two months ago. But then he starts thinking of your mouth stretched around his length and you have to call his name twice to get his attention.

“This is of the most Importance, Mark. I need your help.” Mark crosses his arms, half of him wants to tell you yes so he can finish the simple task and have his face buried in your sweet cunt for another three months. The other half of him is mad that you were just now calling.

Mark’s pride outweighs his lust and you watch as his hologram shakes his head no.

“No? You can’t say no, you are invincible, defender of the helpless.”, Desperation laces your words but Mark doesn’t pick up on it, all the blood had rushed from his head to his dick while he was reminiscing about his time with you.

“I’m not in my suit.”, Mark picks the device up, fixes his semi in his pajama pants then lays back on the bed, “…And you didn’t send me a transmission for two months, what’s so important now?”

Your hologram sighs, “I deeply apologize, Mark. I meant to send a transmission sooner but you know I had to marry-“, Mark’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He’d completely forgot that you were forced to marry an arranged suitor once your tryst was over. He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.

“A wedding is a month long celebration on my planet, I’m contacting you at my earliest opportunity.” Mark is listening to you but he’s also trying to ignore the feeling of jealousy coursing through him. “This is why i’m communicating with you now, Mark.”

You explain to him that you’ve married a tyrant, how he wants to enslave your people and destroy your planet.

Mark’s thick brows pull together, “Isn’t that what Edolan said when he lied for you?” Mark continues with a smirk on his full lips, “You don’t have to tell me your planet is going to be destroyed for me to come fuck you.” He meant every word too. He’d been thinking about you since he’d left and was getting tired of his hand.

“This is not about pleasure, Mark. My people are in peril and you are the only one who can stop this monster-,” You grunt disdainfully before continuing, “I tried to eliminate him myself but he was stronger than I thought. I’m now a prisoner in my own home.”, The whole statement takes Mark completely aback. He’s still not convinced that you weren’t just saying this for some dick but he agrees to come anyway.

You explain to Mark how to transport with the thin device before ending the transmission. Mark wonders if he should come naked incase you transport him directly to your room but ends up suiting up.

When Mark’s feet hit cobblestone, he takes in Soloria with a smirk. Besides the kids that usually play in the streams near the courtyard nothing seemed out of place. He knew it was just a booty call, not that he was mad. He’d just have to teach you how to ask for dick like a normal…person.

Mark is gliding to the castle,thinking about what he wants to bend you over first when the castle’s huge doors fly open to reveal a brawny, orange man simmering with rage.

“My wife sent you to defeat me?! I laugh in your face! You can not stop me! I will enslave you and the rest of these Solorians-“, He balls his hand into a very, large fist. “And kill anyone who defies me.”

Before Mark can respond multiple wolf like creatures appear from thin air causing screams to errupt from the townspeople near him. The aliens snap at him with rows of sharp teeth, they’re ferocious as they try to latch onto him but it takes Mark minimal effort to defeat the animals.

“You’ve gotta come with something stronger than that!” Mark says taunting your ex husband as he pulls a beast in half, covering his suit in its silver blood.

Mark flies the rest of the distance to the castle. When he arrives your ex-husband is waiting for him, he’s trying to use his gargantuan body to block the castle doors.

Mark lands and walks over to the large stone steps with his palms raised, The Solorian towers over him with a sneer. Mark’s face fills with annoyance, he really wanted to get up to your room but someone always wanted to fight.

“Hey, man. Just go and don’t come back. I don’t want to hurt you.” Mark says, hands going to rest on his hips.

“Hurt me? A puny earthling could never!”, Mark kicks him into the far side of the castle, his body resembles a star fish when his back connects with the stone wall. Debris fall on his unconscious head. When winged guards fly from the castle he points in the direction of your ex husband and advises them to chain him up.

When you hear the commotion from outside your window you peek your head out of the room and smile cheerily while dancing with happiness when you see the orange man being put in chains.

You throw a lively party in Marks honor, it starts that afternoon and stretches into the wee hours of night. You’re completely fucked up by the time it’s over and Mark has to fly you back to your chambers, he lays you on your large bed gently before stripping off his suit.

When he turns back to you you’ve taken off the jeweled dress you wore. You were now completely naked save for the shimmering tiara in your hot pink hair.

“Invincible, my savior.”, You say sensually, crawling over to the side of the bed Mark was standing by. It sounds like the mead was leaving your system but Mark didn’t want to take advantage of you, his mom always said drunk people can’t consent.

It took his viltrumite strength to remove your pink hand from his crotch, he accidentally groans out loud when he sees you biting your lip in annoyance. “You no longer want to lay with me?” You ask as you sit back on your heels. Mark had been whispering vulgar things to you the whole party and you were giddy in anticipation.

It takes everything in Mark to not look down at your supple, bare skin. “N-No, I really want to lay with you but you had so much to drink.” You laugh, taking his large hand in yours then pulling him to sit on the bed beside you.

You rub your hand on his muscular thigh and tease your pink fingers under the leg of his boxers. “Mark Grayson, You worry too much above trivial things.” When you kiss him it’s all tongue and he thinks he might buss on the spot, luckily he doesn’t but he’s a panting mess when you pull away from him.

Mark uses the last ounce of his self control to stop your wandering hands. He was trying to show some restraint but god, he just wanted to slip into your tight walls. “I-Uh think we should wait till the morning. You had so much mead, Y/N.”

You ignore his words and slip onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his lean shoulders, “Mark, please fuck me. I have not experienced pleasure since you were on Soloria….I feel like a virkin.”, your voice is whiny and breathless. You didn’t even realize you were grinding your wet cunt on his clothed erection until it started sending tingles down your spine.

Mark would’ve laughed in your face if he wasn’t so hard.

With his resolve weakened he can do nothing but lay back, muscular arms tucked under his head for comfort. He watches you with glazed eyes as you pull his boxers down enough to allow his hard cock to be set free.

You waste no time, sinking down on him with a moan. The stretch is so wonderful that it has you wondering why you didn’t follow him to Earth instead of getting married.

You place both hands on his chiseled stomach for purchase as you raise yourself up on your toes, bringing your wet cunt down on him roughly. This pulls moans from both of you, Mark has to force his eyes open to watch as you ride him. He wants to remember the image of your soaking cunt sliding up and down his cock in the moonlight for the rest of his life.

Mark allows you to stay on top of him until he notices your feet becoming wobbly. He sits up and instructs you to lay on your back.

Once you’re lying on the soft covers, Mark positions himself in front of you, kneeling on his heels while he takes your legs and throws both over his shoulder. He keeps them together as he pulls your lips apart, teasing you both by sliding his length back and forth between your wet folds.

Mark’s tip bumps into your nub with every soft thrust and it sends your toes curling. He notices the appendages and can’t help but to bend your leg some and pop them in his mouth, licking and moaning around them as he slides into your warmth.

You let out a whine that turns into a breathy moan when his hips meet yours. Mark licks your toes one last time before moving your leg to its original place on his shoulder.

Mark’s strokes are deep and well paced. Each one has you crying out as he repeatedly bumps your cervix and brushes against spots deep inside you that you didn’t know existed.

You grip the covers and throw your head back in ecstasy as Mark ruts into you, breath hitching and back arching as he begins rubbing hard circles on your swollen clit.

You cry out when your release sneaks up on you. Your thighs tremble as Mark flips you on your stomach then sinks his hard cock back into your spasming sex. You cry out, voice carrying in the open space of your room.

Mark kisses and suck’s your neck as he chases his own release, his voice is breathless and warm as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Through your lust induced haze you swear you hear him say that you should’ve married him instead of your ex husband but your approaching orgasm steals your attention.

Mark’s head drops into the crook of your neck as your cunt convulses around him. He thinks about pulling out but it’s like your soft walls pull him in deeper and deeper, you clench around him once more and his eyes are rolling back as he comes. He has to fist his hands in the covers to ground himself.

He pulls out of you slowly and moans at the sight of his release leaking out of your puffy cunt.

Mark is lying on his back, trying to catch his breath when you start speaking to him, your breathing just as haggard as his. He’d assumed you’d fallen asleep.

“Did you offer to marry me?” You ask Mark, watching his blushing face with the help of the moonlight. “Wh-what? no.”, he stutters out, he looks anywhere but at you as he fluffs a pillow on your bed.

“Are you being deceitful Mark Grayson?”, you scoot over to where he’s lying and press your sweaty body against his. You whisper in his ear and watch as he shivers, “If you were serious during our throes of passion I accept your offer but I would need to get adjusted to earth first.” He wraps his arm around your neck, biceps bulging as he pulls you closer. “Let’s talk about dating first.” Mark says through a yawn. You knit your brows together in confusion, “What is dating?”

160 notes · View notes

enhaflixer · 2 days ago

Note

Sined sealed and undone is such a beautiful story! I loved it! It would be lovely if we could get some more snippets of their lives someday! Maybe about the pregnancy or when the baby is born???

First Trimester

Jay doesn’t know how to react at first. Not really. He’s not shocked—he’s prepared on paper. They talked about children. They were careful. But deep down? He always knew Mina was going to come early. And yet somehow it still knocks the breath out of him.

He doesn’t celebrate at first. He calculates. Sits up late reading medical journals and government maternity policies. Makes a spreadsheet of every hospital in a 100km radius. Sends your doctor a thank-you gift after every appointment.

You find him one night in his study, staring blankly at a half-done nursery mood board, his phone open to an article titled “Intergenerational Trauma and Pregnancy Outcomes.”

“Jay,” you say gently, stepping into the room. “You’re allowed to be excited, you know.”

He blinks at you like he forgot how to breathe. Then:

“I don’t want her to inherit anything broken.”

You kneel in front of him.

“She won’t. She’s getting the best of you.”

Then, softer:

“And the rest she’ll learn to survive. Like we did.”

He wraps his arms around you so tight you can barely breathe. But you don’t mind. He needs this more than you do.

Second Trimester

Jay gets weirdly charming during this time. Like, glowing. He stops answering calls after 6PM. Starts making dinner. Starts… humming while folding laundry???

You ask him one day, “Are you nesting?”

“I’m stabilizing our home environment,” he says, dead serious, as he alphabetizes the spice rack.

He talks to your belly every night, even before you can feel movement. His voice goes low, affectionate, incredibly gentle—like he’s already protecting Mina from the world.

“Hi, Baby,” he whispers against your stomach. “It’s Appa. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll handle it.”

You cry the first time you hear him say her name.

He panics and tries to call your OB.

You have to explain that these are happy tears.

Later, you find a leather-bound journal hidden in his drawer. Inside: handwritten letters to Mina. Every week. Every milestone. Every fear. Every dream.

Third Trimester

Jay is officially in full Dad Mode™. He speaks to your belly in boardroom Korean. You swear Mina kicks harder when he starts using his “negotiation voice.”

He buys three diaper bags. Tests the car seat installation seven times. Has every caregiver within his family vetted by a private firm.

But also? He’s scared. You catch it in quiet moments—when he watches you sleep with a crease between his brows. When he lingers at the hospital lobby longer than necessary.

“I don’t know if I can protect you both,” he admits one night, forehead pressed to your shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” you say softly. “You just have to love us.”

And he holds you tighter. Doesn’t say a word. But later that night, he changes your contact name in his phone from just your name… to My Family.

The Birth

Jay doesn’t cry. Not until they place Mina in your arms, all tiny fingers and sleepy squints and scrunched-up nose that definitely came from him.

Then he’s gone. Sobbing silently, shoulders shaking, forehead pressed to the edge of your hospital bed like he’s trying to keep himself from collapsing.

“She’s real,” he says. “She’s here.”

And you nod, exhausted, whispering, “She’s perfect.”

Jay kisses Mina’s forehead, then yours. His voice cracks when he says, “Thank you. For giving her to me.”

Postpartum / First Months

Jay doesn’t sleep. Not out of stress—he just can’t look away. He watches Mina breathe. He learns how to swaddle from six different sources and compares their efficiency. He insists on doing midnight feedings because “you carried her for nine months, I can carry her through a few nights.”

He works less. Holds more. Laughs more.

One night, Mina won’t stop crying no matter what either of you do. You’re both exhausted, on the edge. You find Jay in the living room with her on his chest, softly singing a lullaby his mother used to hum to him.

“Please sleep, Mina,” he whispers. “Appa needs to believe the world is good again.”

She finally settles.

And you know, in your bones, she already believes it is.

Because he’s here.

And he loves her.

And you.

More than anything.

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhaflixer: ssu #jay park x reader

148 notes · View notes

bokutoko · 3 days ago

Text

ᴋɪᴛᴀ ʙꜰ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ౨ৎ

cw: ts!kita x f!reader (mentions of baby fever/him wanting a family with reader), use of “sweetheart"

- he is the epitome of a gentleman. he’s not just a ‘nice guy’—he’s a good man. not only is he opening doors to places for you, he’s also holding it open for the elderly couple that walks in right behind you both. he makes sure you walk with him on the side of the sidewalk furthest from the road, and he makes sure the family of six kids crosses the street safely. he always pays for your food, and if he finds a homeless person asking for spare change, he makes sure to buy an extra side for them to eat. he’s not only good to you, but to everyone he comes across.

- his favorite place to kiss is your temple. on the softest/weakest part of the human skull, he loves to press soft, chaste kisses against it when you’re still half asleep in bed, when you return home from work all exhausted and/or cranky, when you sit outside with him and watch the sunset together.

- his granny adores you. she loves to come over and cook with you (she has shared all of kita’s favorite recipes with you), chat with you over tea, and offer life advice (both solicited and unsolicited). she tells kita how lucky he is and how he better be good to you. as if he needs to be told that!

- imagine him coming home one evening, sweaty and cheeks slightly pink from the sun after a long summer day outside. you’ve surprised him by coming over and making his favorite meal. you’re standing by the stove, and you turn around to see him gazing at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile. “what’s all this?” he’d ask with even pinker cheeks as you tell him to not worry about anything other than freshening up before supper. (oh god lemme stop here bc now i want to write a fic abt this…)

- his primary love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation. he loves to do things for you to make your life easier. oh, you’ve been wanting to get into gardening? he’s building you a planter box and buying soil and seeds of your favorite flowers/veggies/fruits. feeling sad that all your plants died? he’s telling you that everything’s okay, and that sometimes, no matter how much love you give, sometimes, it just isn’t enough. “plants sure are finicky. i'll help ya plant some more.”

- he is the personification of “soft, gentle love.” even during times that you may be acting high-strung/stressed/overwhelmed about things, he is the one calming you down with his calm, patient demeanor. he doesn’t raise his voice/yell, he doesn’t say things in the heat of anger. he just says, “take a deep breath for me, sweetheart. we’ll get through this.”

- he uses his granny’s engagement ring to propose to you (wrote abt this here & here). he is a man looking to marry! and it’s not the biggest ring, but it had been passed down through his family, and it's perfect—you don’t need an expensive, shiny rock on your finger in order to love him.

- he has such a big heart. he genuinely has so much love to give to others, and he’s so lucky to be able to share it with you.

bonus:

- once one of the miya twins (osamu) has a baby, he gets baby fever… severely. he can’t help but to want little ones with your eyes and big smile giggling and waddling around the farm.

a/n: kita… i love u…

masterlist | navigation

157 notes · View notes

darkwitchoferie · 3 days ago

Text

Cheating Ex - Minho Edition

Summary: Your shitty boyfriend has cheated on you. Again. You go to your childhood best friend Minho for comfort and end up getting more than you planned for.

Cw/tw: loads of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), a little anal fingering as a treat (f receiving), pleasure dom/service top!Minho, odaxelagnia (biting kink – f receiving), squirting

Wc: 6.1k

A/N: This one starts the same as the threesome version. I liked the way it started and didn’t want to change it. You can find the threesome version here. Also, this is somehow the longest one (so far).

This fic is part of a series of unconnected best friends to lovers fics, the others of which can be found on my master list.

You rushed through the front door of Minho’s apartment, tears streaming down your face, hoping your best friend was home.

“Y/N?” Jisung came around the corner, from the kitchen into the living room. “Y/nnie, what happened?” He hurried to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh sweetheart. Come on.” Gently, he led you to Minho’s room, knowing that was who you’d come for.

You followed Jisung to his bed and curled against him when he pulled you down onto it, letting the tears come and soak his shirt.

“Haneul cheated on her,” Jisung explained quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before getting up and letting your mutual best friend take his spot.

“That asshole! Want me to call Chan and Changbin, sweetheart? We’ll go straighten him out.” The door closed softly behind Jisung.

“It’s okay, Min. I’m fine. Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time.”

He was silent for a moment, staring down at you. “What do you mean?” Minho asked, voice low and dangerous sounding. Or, it would have been if you didn’t know your best friend well enough to know that he wasn’t going to leave you here while he went to hunt down your ex.

“Haneul…,” you sighed. “He’s never been loyal to me. He’s had at least two other girlfriends and I don’t even know how many hook-ups since we started dating. I just never told you.” You shrugged. You knew he was going to question you, but you hoped it wouldn’t be too bad if you tried to downplay how much the other affairs hurt you.

“What made this time different?” he asked, still in that same low tone.

“He cheated in my bed. Not his own, hers, or some hotel room. He brought some woman to my home and my bed.”

“Why’d you stay with him so long?” Minho burst out. “Kitten, you are so much better than that. You deserve so much better! Why put up with some asshole who doesn’t even respect you, let alone love you? Why – I don’t understand why you’d put yourself through that kind of cruelty.”

“He looks like you! Okay?!” You burst out, unable to hold it in under his disappointment. “Figured it was the closest I’d ever get to having you, so I –” Your eyes widened as you realized what you were saying and you struggled to sit up and get out of his bed. “Shit. Lemme go. Minho! Damn it, let me go!”

“Never,” he’d sat up and tugged you back against his chest. You struggled against him for a moment and he let you, not relaxing his hold on you enough to let you get free, but not holding you tightly enough to hurt or cause you to panic. “Do you know why I don’t date?” He asked after a few moments, when you finally calmed down.

“Because you’re an idol.”

“Wrong. That hasn’t stopped Chan, Hyunjin – actually, it’s never stopped any of the other members. Not since our ban expired, at least. You know that, you’ve met their significant others. No. The reason I don’t date is you. No matter how great anyone else might be, they aren’t you.”

You twisted in his arms to turn to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion but a spark of hope lighting in your chest. “What?”

“They aren’t you, Kitten,” he lifted a hand to gently stroke a fingertip down the side of your face before settling that hand on your waist. “No other person has been able to compare to your perfection. To the way you make me laugh, the way my day gets better just by hearing your voice. This thing inside me that constantly wants to shower you with little gifts just to see you smile but also desperately wants to knock you up so the whole world knows you’re mine.” You felt your body twitch with a mixture of shock and arousal. “Sorry,” he smiled unrepentantly. “Figured you’d want to know all of it.”

Your face must’ve given something away as his eyes darkened and voice dipped to a sultry tone that had a shiver of lust traveling down your spine. “Do you, Y/N? Do you want to know that after every time you leave our movie nights or hang outs I have to crawl into my bed or shower and get myself off? That I have to bite my hand or pillow to stop from moaning your name too loud? Do you wanna know that I got hard in the store the other day just from smelling the shampoo you use? That I’m hard right now just because of how close you are and desperately hoping you’ll let me have and keep you?”

Your breath caught in shock. You weren’t sure why you were shocked by that last sentence with everything else he’d admitted to already. Maybe it was the shift from sweet to horny in so short a span finally catching up to you. You couldn’t find your voice for a moment. Instead of responding, you ran the tip of your finger down his nose, then gently over his upper lip, watching them part and feeling the puff of air as he sighed against your fingertip. You shifted around, moving so you were straddling his lap and settled on his thighs. You slipped your arms over his shoulders and just quietly watched him for a few seconds.

Finally, softly, you responded to his last question. “I’ve been yours for so long, I don’t know how to be anything else.” His eyes flashed, hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging you toward him and claiming your lips in a possessive kiss. The hand not in your hair squeezed your hip as he tilted your head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth in a way that felt like he was trying to claim you. You moaned low in your throat, the sound vibrating in your chest and causing Minho’s lips to tip up just slightly into a smile.

The hand on your hip slid around to your lower back and pushed you forward until you were pressed against his chest. You settled on his lap, right on the bulge in his jeans. You lips parted on a silent moan, head tipping back as your ground down slightly on him. Minho did not stop kissing you, his lips travelled across your jaw, and down your neck, licking and nipping as he went. At the same time, his hand shifted back to your hip, tightening his grip and helping you roll your hips over his hard cock.

“Tell me to stop, Kitten, and I will,” he muttered against your neck. “We can take this slow, I know you’re vulnerable now. But if –”

“Not vulnerable,” you interrupted. “Don’t you dare stop. ‘M so ready to be completely yours, Min.” You ground down on him with a little more force to emphasize your point, smiling at the groan that elicited from him.

He claimed your lips again, nipping gently on your bottom lip. The hand on your hip slid up, under the hem of your shirt, inching higher until his palm rested on the side of your ribs, thumb just brushing the underside of your bra. He pulled back a little to look at you.

“Ok?” he asked, lifting his forearm enough to indicate he was asking if it was okay to take off your shirt. You nodded and he had your shirt tugged up and tossed somewhere in his room in the blink of an eye. He settled both hands on your hips, helping guide your movements as you continued rolling your clothed core over the bulge in his pants.

The sensation overwhelming in a way you hadn’t really expected it would be, you tipped your head back, light pants coming with every roll of your hips. Because you weren’t looking at him, you didn’t see the way Minho was looking at you – the way he always looked at you when you weren’t looking at him – like a devoted follower finally seeing his goddess for the first time.

By the time you looked back down at him, the look was gone, replaced with one that was all heat and desire. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head or not, but it suddenly felt too hard to breathe with your bra on. You wrapped a hand behind yourself, undoing and then tugging the offending garment off.

“God,” Minho groaned, hands tightening on your hips briefly.

“Yeah?” you smiled at him.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, leaning in to capture one nipple between his lips, sucking the nub into his mouth.

Your mouth dropped open on a stifled moan even as your hands came up to clutch his shoulders. You were mildly disappointed to remember he still had his shirt on. Impatiently, you tugged at the offending fabric until, with a little pop sound, Minho released your nipple to lean back and take off his shirt. Your hands smoothed over the hard planes of his chest and abs and he let you, a soft almost-smile playing on his lips.

“What?” you asked, catching the look on his face.

“Nothing. Just… mm, finally have you in my lap, half naked. A man’s allowed to be happy when he’s living out a dream.”

“A dream, huh?”

“Definitely. Dreamed of you like this more often than I’ll admit.” You wanted to laugh, chuckle at the absolute absurdity of your gorgeous best friend dreaming of you at all, but the seriousness in his tone and eyes stopped you.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, as his hands moved your hips, rolling them against himself again. You picked up the pace he set, rolling your clothed core against his clothed cock, as his hands smoothed up your sides, coming up to cup your boobs. He fondled the flesh he held, pinching and rolling both nipples between his fingers, as his lips trailed across your jaw and down the side of your neck. He alternated open mouthed kisses and licks against both sides of your neck, lips continuing further down over your chest.

You leaned back, clutching his shoulders to keep yourself somewhat upright, as he licked over one nipple, sucking it into his mouth, then switched sides. You pressed your lips together, suppressing the whine that wanted to come out at his actions, even as your ground your hips harder against him.

Very suddenly, he shifted, tossing you off his lap and back onto his bed. “I am not coming in my pants like some teenager,” he huffed out.

You laughed, scrambling to get your jeans and panties down your legs as he did the same. He tossed all your combined articles of clothes off his bed, then slowly smoothed his hands up your legs. He shifted himself around, kneeling between your knees as he spread your legs wide.

He looked down at you, a light smile gracing his lips. “You’re gorgeous, Kitten,” he said softly, fingers trailing lightly up one thigh. Very quickly, you found yourself held slightly in the air. Minho had slid his shoulders under your thighs, hands under your ass, and lifted your pussy to his mouth. He pressed a chaste kiss against first your clit then your wet folds, before running his tongue up your slit. He groaned against you, dipping his tongue between your folds, lapping at your pussy.

“Taste so good, baby,” he muttered, singularly focused on tasting as much of you as possible, tongue dipping in to lap at your walls, then flicking over your clit, before he pressed his tongue as deeply into your cunt as he could.

Your moans were muffled by your hand pressed tightly over your mouth, panting breaths coming out through your nose, even as you tried to roll your hips against his mouth. Of course, with the way he had you held, you didn’t get much purchase to roll your hips the way you wanted to.

Minho glanced at you face and pulled away from your pussy when he noticed your hand over your mouth. Shifting his head a little, he bit, not very gently, into the meat of your thigh. The squeal this pulled from you was barely heard behind your hand. “Is this why I can’t hear you making any noise, Kitten? Are you hiding your noises from me?”

“Not… hiding,” you huffed out, moving your hand and trying to catch your breath while talking. “I know… guys don’t –”

“If you finish that by saying guys don’t like when you moan or whine or anything, I’m going to leave and hunt down Haneul right now,” he cut you off. Wisely, you stayed quiet, recognizing that he was actually serious. He stared down at you for a moment. “Hands on my headboard, baby, and keep them there. I want to hear every single sound that comes out of your pretty mouth.” He leaned forward, bending you nearly in half and pressed a quick, firm kiss to your lips. “And if I ask you a question, I want words, baby. Understood?”

“Okay,” you nodded, lifting your hands and pressing them to the fabric of his headboard.

He looked at you for a moment more, head cocked to the side, before adding, “And if you want something from me – ask. For. It. Do not shift your hips and hope I’ll understand. Tell me you want me to go harder or softer or that you want me to play with your clit or your tits. I want to hear you.”

You stared back up at him in silence for a few seconds. “Right now, I want your mouth back on my pussy,” you wiggled your hips for emphasis.

“Good girl,” he praised, sending a shiver down your spine, before diving back into your cunt, but keeping his gaze on your face. You bit your bottom lip, automatically stifling your moan as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit. He twisted his head and bit your other thigh. “I want to hear you, I said.”

“Habit,” you huffed out.

He pressed soft, soothing kisses against both bite marks, kitten licking over the red marks that would likely bruise, until he heard you whine. He smiled against your inner thigh and shifted to suck a hickey higher up on your thigh, pleased with the way you gasped then moaned at the sensation. Only then did he go back to your cunt, running his tongue up and between your folds.

This pattern repeated twice more. You would moan or whine at Minho’s actions – whether that was fucking his tongue into your hole or wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it into his mouth – then you’d get self conscious and press your lips together or turn your head to bury your face against your own arm. Each time, Minho stopped, twisting to bite your thigh.

The fourth time he bit you, you moaned loudly, legs clenching around his head. He chuckled, looking up at you. “Do you like being bitten, Kitten?”

“Apparently,” you huffed.

He leaned up over you, once again nearly folding you in half. “Let me make you cum on my tongue baby and we’ll see if you like bites in other places before I fuck you, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yes,” you nodded frantically, belly clenching at the thought of his teeth in your neck or belly.

He chuckled low in his throat. “That means no hiding your sounds, remember. I want to hear every moan, whine, or whimper, sweetheart.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

His gaze softened slightly and he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You can do better than try, love. I know you can.” His tone sounded both encouraging and challenging. He pressed a few sporadic kisses to your chest and belly, before licking over your cunt, from your entrance to your clit.

Your nails dug into the fabric of his headboard when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and batting it around with his tongue. You poked your own tongue into your cheek, between your teeth, hoping it would help you keep your mouth open so he wouldn’t stop again.

You flushed as your moans got louder and more frequent, a little embarrassed, despite Minho saying he wanted to hear you. Then you looked down at him to see his gaze locked on your face, eyes sparkling with excitement. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you realized he genuinely was enjoying – maybe even getting off to – the sounds you made. You’d always been made to feel embarrassed by showing or voicing your pleasure, and here was this gorgeous man who seemingly wanted little more than to make you make those sounds.

The realization had you moaning, loud and long, back arching toward him as much as you were able. One hand flew from the headboard, burying your fingers in his hair and pushing his face closer to you. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you felt him smile against you as he lapped at your sopping pussy.

He fucked his tongue into your cunt, licking along your walls as deep as he could get. Then switched to broad licks up and between your pussy lips, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit when he reached it. He sucked the little bud into his mouth, tongue pressed flat against it. All the while, you watched him watching you, breathy moans and whines falling more frequently from your mouth.

“Min,” you whined, clutching tightly to his hair. “Close.” He hummed against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your cunt and adding to the tightening coil in your belly. “Oh god.” His name fell like a litany from your lips as the coil tightened further then finally snapped, your head falling back to press harder into the pillow under you as you tightened your grip on his hair and held him tightly against you.

He kept his tongue against your clit, not really licking, just sort of flexing the muscle against your nerves to help you through the after shocks of your orgasm.

He slid your legs off his shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you panted, coming down from your high. After a moment, your breathing started to return to normal but you also started to squirm a bit, remembering what he’d promised to do. Just as you opened your mouth to ask, he shifted further down the bed, moving to be between your feet.

Slowly, gently, he teased his fingers up both calves, starting at your ankles. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but the action was soothing and you were curious, so you stayed quiet as you watched him. You sighed softly with pleasure as his fingertips skated across the backs of your knees before your breath caught at the same light touch just above your knee on the top of your thigh. With a slight smile, he leaned down, scraping his teeth over the same spot, then biting down when you whimpered. And then you understood exactly what the light touches were for – he was looking for your sensitive areas.

Each new spot he found pulled some reaction from you – whether a moan, whimper, or even a squeal – and each of your reactions seemed to please and excite him more.

He scraped his teeth over the top of your hip, biting down then sucking a bruise into the same spot. He found another just above your belly button and at the bottom of your rib cage on both sides. A quick nip to the underside of each breast pulled a breathy squeal from your lips. He paused his biting exploration for just a moment – sucking each nipple into his mouth until it was taut.

Then he moved on to your arms. Your palms curled up against his fingers, the sensation slightly ticklish, but gasped at his light touch on the inside of your wrists. He nipped at your wrists, the same way he had at the underside of your tits. Then bit harder just below the crease of your elbow. Ticklish, you tried to squirm away from his touch the higher up your arms he went.

Already knowing your neck and shoulders were sensitive, he forewent the light touch and just started pressing kisses to the tip of one shoulder, biting into your flesh where your neck and shoulder met and sucking a hickey into the side of your neck. He repeated his actions down the other side of your neck and to the tip of the other shoulder.

When he finally pulled back to look down at you, you were a panting mess under him – eyes glassy and dangling on the precipice of another orgasm.

“So close. Min,” you whined out, struggling to find the words to tell him you were close to cumming and just needed his fingers on your clit.

He seemed to understand you were struggling though and asked, “Where, baby?”

“Clit. Please.” With a very self-satisfied smiled, he ran his two fingers through your soaked folds, gathering up your slick, before pressing those fingers to your clit and rubbing in firm circles. “Oh god.” You moaned out, one hand grasping at the blanket under you the other clutching at his shoulder as you shuddered through another climax.

“So,” he said, fingers still working you through your aftershocks. “Turns out you really like to be bitten, huh? I think we’ll save your back for another day though. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that,” you sighed lightly as his fingers finally stopped moving, “sounds good. God, Minho.”

He just smiled down at you like the proverbial cat that got the canary, eyes tracing over every bite mark he’d left on you. “You look good covered in my marks.” He shifted to practically lay on top of you, keeping himself propped slightly up on one hand as he leaned in to capture your lips in a possessive kiss. Never had you felt more wanted than in that moment when – even after making you cum twice – he still wanted more of you.

Then you realized not only had he not cum yet – you hadn’t even touched him since he’d tossed you onto his bed. “Min,” you pulled away from his lips. “’M sorry.”

“What for baby?” He looked bewildered.

“You. You’ve done so much already for me and I haven’t –”

“Ah,” he cut you off, understanding flooding his gaze. He pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to your lips. “You don’t need to worry about me. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to feel your mouth and hands all over me. And we’ll absolutely get to that another day. But today is all about you. Most times will be, Kitten. I like giving more than receiving, okay? I would much prefer to have you gasping and moaning under me than anything else.”

You looked curiously up at him. You knew, of course, that Minho genuinely liked to take care of the people he cared about, but you hadn’t considered that it would translate this way into his sex life. “And if I ask you to fuck my mouth?” you asked bluntly, partly to see his reaction but also because you did enjoy giving blowjobs to the right partner.

He groaned, burying his face briefly against your neck. “Definitely gonna explore that later. Would you really let me…?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, face flushing as you continued. “I like the feeling of a cock on my tongue, stretching my jaw.”

He nipped at the back of your jawline, just below your ear. “You might be the death of me, sweetheart,” he said softly, lips against your skin. You threaded the fingers of one hand into his hair, gripping gently as he kissed along your jaw, back to your lips. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one that was over far too soon for your liking, nipping your bottom lip as he pulled away. He leaned over to his nightstand, sliding open the drawer and rummaging around for a few seconds before straightening up with a recognizable foil packet between his fingers.

“Do we have to?” You asked, when he looked back over at you. “Not sex, I mean,” you reassured him quickly. “Absolutely need you to fuck me. But do we have to use a condom? I have my implant,” you tapped the spot on your upper arm, “and I really wanna feel you in me. Please?”

He groaned, dropping down against you so his face was buried between your tits. “No condoms ever, if that’s what you want, my love,” he said, words muffled slightly against your chest.

You felt your face and chest pleasantly heat up at him calling you ‘my love’. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him against you, just taking a moment to bask in him. After that moment, you wiggled your hips under him, not impatient exactly, but also not entirely patient either. “Min.”

“Mm, yep. Absolutely. Needed to get control of myself,” he said with a little smile, lifting his head and looking up at you. “It’s like you’re trying to find things to say to kill me with.”

You grinned at the slightly expectant look in his eyes – like he was ready for you to say something filthy to try to get another reaction out of him. Instead you went a different direction. You brought your hands up to cup his face, bending slightly uncomfortably so you could press a soft kiss to his lips and whisper, “I love you, Minho.”

“Oh god,” he groaned, pushing you to lay back against his pillows as he gripped both of your thighs, hooking your legs over his hips. With a single, smooth roll of his hips, he sheathed his cock inside you in one motion, pulling matching groans from both of you. “I love you too,” he said, between soft kisses against your neck and cheeks, giving you a chance to adjust to the stretch and him a chance to regain control of himself again.

“Min,” you whined after a moment, rolling your hips. “Move, baby.”

With another kiss pressed to your jaw, he readjusted himself, sitting up on his knees and hooking his arms under your knees. Your hands flailed, finally gripping his blanket as he started steadily thrusting into you, quickly building up speed until his hips were snapping into yours. For a moment, you weren’t aware you were making any noise, your jaw hanging open, until you heard the breathy little moans with every thrust of his hips.

Then he adjusted, bringing your knees to his shoulders and leaning over you, folding you in half.

“Oh god,” you moaned out, hands leaving his blanket to grip his shoulder and opposite bicep.

“Look at you, my baby,” Minho looked down at you with a look that seemed like pride, but you were too caught up in your own pleasure to be sure. “You take me so well, like this cunt was made for me. Pussy’s so wet and warm. Can you hear how wet you are, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you groaned out, listening to the slick sounds of Minho fucking into you.

“Gonna make you cum on my cock, sweetheart. Will you do that for me? Cum on my cock so I can feel your cunt squeeze me? Hm?”

You struggled to find an answer, your building orgasm and constant moans making words difficult. “Ye… yeah.”

“Good girl, remembering your words.” His praise sent a bolt of lust through you, ratcheting your orgasm closer. He leaned closer, pressing kisses to your bottom lip, your jaw, your cheeks, but never fully covering your mouth. The coil in your belly tightened further and you could feel Minho smile against you. “Getting closer, huh baby? I can feel you clenching around me. Gonna fall apart for me, sweet girl?” He slammed into you, tip of his cock perfectly bumping your cervix.

“Min! Oh, GOD!” You shouted, back arching as your orgasm crashed through you. Minho’s thrusts slowed as he kept fucking you through your aftershocks, relaxing back on his knees and bringing your legs down to a more comfortable position. He firmly massaged your upper thighs as he kept rolling his hips into you as you came down from your high. “Oh god,” you repeated, softly and in awe.

He smiled down at you. “Still doing good, sweetheart? Keep going?”

“Please keep going.” Not too quickly, he pulled out of you. “No,” you whined.

He chuckled. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna move you.” You helped him rearrange you as much as you could, your limbs feeling a bit like jello. He flipped you onto your front, pulling your hips up until you were on your knees, head and chest relaxed against his pillows. He knelt behind you, your thighs pressed together, and his spread wide. He slid back into you with a low groan, bottoming out in a single motion again. “God. Feel so tight like this baby.”

You whined, rocking back against him. “Feel so good.”

Minho didn’t give you much time to adjust, pulling almost all the way out of you then snapping his hips forward. He set a hard, punishing pace, the room filling with the sounds of your squelching pussy, skin slapping against skin, and every little ah he pushed out of you with each thrust. His hands gripped your hips tight, pulling you back against him with each thrust, his fingers digging in hard enough that you felt you might have bruises. You hoped you would, adding them to the various teeth marks riddling your body.

Unexpectedly, he pulled out of you, just to bury a single finger in your cunt, pumping that digit into a couple times, then pushing his cock back into you before you could find your voice to complain. His hips were still as he pressed his slick-wet finger steadily into your ass. You groaned, cheek pressing deeper into the pillow under you. You heard a breathy chuckle from him as your cunt squeezed him hard.

“Oh, Kitten. Have none of your loser boyfriends ever played back here?”

“No,” you whined, shaking your head and pressing back against him.

“Does it feel good?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he rubbed his other hand soothingly against your hip. “I won’t neglect any of you holes.” You whined in response, a high pitched sound you’d never heard yourself make before. He chuckled again, leaning over you and pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the back of your shoulder.

Then he sat back up and rolled his hips, building back up to the pace he’d been at before, but keeping to a slower pace with the single finger he thrust in and out of your ass. You felt so good, your mind going hazy around the edges.

“Hm,” Minho almost sounded thoughtful, if not for the breathless tone in his voice. “We should probably get you some toys, Kitten. Something to keep this cute pussy full while I fuck your ass. Or a cute plug for your ass while I fuck your cunt. Just to make sure you’re full no matter which hole I’m in. Would you like that, love? Go shopping at the sex toy store with me?” You whimpered, clenching around him. “I need words, Kitten,” he reminded you.

You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, before finally finding your voice again. “Please.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Aw, is my baby a little cock-drunk?”

“Ye –” your voice cut off with a guttural sound on a particularly, intentionally, hard thrust from Minho’s hips.

That smug tone that you both loved and loathed was thick in his voice as he said, “A little too far gone to talk, poor baby girl. Feeling too good, huh? That’s okay, sweet girl. I’ll take care of you.” The hand on your hip started to slide forward. “Press back against me, baby. Yeah, just like that.” You dug your knees into the mattress below you, pressing your ass back against his abs. He reached around to your front, fingers quickly finding your clit.

The first touch of his fingers against that bundle of nerves had you tightly clenching around his cock and pulling another breathless laugh from him. He flicked his fingers over your clit in time with the finger thrusting into your ass. You didn’t have the brain power to wonder how the hell he was able to do everything he was doing – you were too far gone. Your brain felt hazy and you were therefore surprised, not just by your orgasm, but by the fluid that gushed out of you, around Minho’s cock, as you came, your vision going white.

You knew you lost it for a minute, you were pretty sure you may have actually passed out for a few seconds. Because the next thing you knew, you were collapsed on the bed, Minho beside you. You could feel his cum inside you, but you didn’t remember him coming.

You panted, working to catch your breath and to bring your mind back between your ears where it belonged. Distantly, you became aware that Minho was holding your hand, the one closest to him, while running the fingers of his other hand gently up and down your spine. The soft touches were helping you to ground yourself again so you made no attempt to move away from his hands. Not that you could have or even wanted to.

Finally, your breathing returned to normal and you felt more like yourself again. You twisted, turning on your side to face him. “Back with me, Kitten?” he asked, a happy smile dancing in his eyes.

You took a moment to respond, then said, “I’ve never done that before.”

“Done what?” Minho asked, smug tone light in his voice, figuring what your answer had to be. “Cum that many times?”

“No. Well, yeah. But I meant squirting. I’ve never done that.”

He popped up, propping himself on his elbow so he could look down at you. “Seriously?” he asked, the tone getting more prominent as a matching smug smile spread over his lips.

“Mm-hm,” you nodded.

“Oh, baby, you are gonna be so much fun for me.” Grin still splitting his face, he leaned down and peppered light kisses over your cheeks, forehead, and nose, before pressing a light kiss against your lips. “Come on, let’s get you showered. I’ll order us food then we can cuddle, possibly nap. How’s that sound?”

You looked up at him, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly soft and like you might cry. “You gonna take care of me?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve never done that either.”

“Excuse me?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Had someone take care of me after sex. I always had to do it myself.” His eyes darkened in that dangerous way they did. He rolled out of bed, then slid his arms under you, lifting you bridal style against his chest. “Minho!”

“Mine now,” he said simply, striding into his ensuite bathroom. He set you down in front of the shower stall then reached around you to turn on and adjust the water. Once it was a warm enough temperature, he gently backed you into the shower and under the spray. “Mine to take care of,” he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Mine to love,” he kissed the other corner of your lips. “All mine,” he said softly, staring into your eyes then leaning in to capture your lips in a firm, possessive kiss. You melted against him, clutching tightly to his shoulders as water cascaded over the back of your head and shoulders.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #minho x reader #lee minho x reader

181 notes · View notes