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#I probably will once this goes up but I Need 2 check out the other chars in the fazbender daycare..
laplacesdevil · 2 months
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Revenge on @splitathon/dave and his OC Daisy!! She's so sweets I love her design
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month
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First of all, I 100% know this is an overused trope... but still....
What If 141 2 people 1 bed trope
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Who cares that it's an overused trope? It's a classic for a reason!
I will never tire of a one bed trope. It can be steamy and sexy. It can be angsty. It can be tense. It can literally be so many things at once. It's also a wonderful canvas to play around, and I had a lot of fun with this one. I know you've waited for this one for a while. I hope you enjoy it! :)
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141 Female Reader
Content & Warnings: swearing, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, multiple positions, rough kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & female receiving), admission of feelings, pretend sex, fake dating/married
Word Count: 6.3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“Fuck,” mutters Price.
You glance over your shoulder. Captain Price stands near the hotel window, the gauzy blinds closed but the thicker ones bunched to the sides, allowing in natural light. He’s staring at something happening in the parking lot.
“What it is?” you ask, starting to walk over to him.
“They might have found us.”
Dread flares hot, clenching the muscles in your stomach until it hurts. “Are you sure?”
Price nods, and then backs away from the window. “There’s no way they saw our faces during the infiltration. We wore masks. Might have tracked the stolen car.”
“We need to leave,” you say, but Price shakes his head.
“There’s too many of them, and they’re likely watching all exits on the main floor.” He sighs. “We need to play this right.”
The two of you are freshly showered, and the clothes you wore for the infiltration have already been discarded. Burned—actually, somewhere in the deserts of Arizona. At the moment, the two of you look like civilians.
“They can’t search the building, John. Not without bloodshed.”
He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze darting across the room as his brain works something over. You fidget, picking at your nails. It’s a terrible habit. One you do when you’re nervous.
Price glances at you and your heart drops. “They look official, and that’s probably all that matters. The scrawny teenager at the front desk isn’t going to put up a fight if the credentials appear legitimate.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, striding toward the window to look for yourself.
Captain Price is right. They do look official. They also look fucking terrifying which would scare anyone into compliance if you don’t know what to look for.
“We’re on the bottom floor,” you say, stepping back.
“I know,” growls Price. He pivots, examining the entire room.
He goes for the car keys and shuts them inside the safe. The only other thing in the room is a duffle bag full of plain clothes and generic toiletries. Price pushes clothes aside and then draws out the pistol hiding beneath it all. He checks the clip and then preps the barrel.
“Take off your clothes.”
“What?” you ask, startled.
Price walks over to the singular bed in the room, tucking the gun beneath the pillows. “Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely,” you affirm.
“Then take off your clothes,” repeats Price, reaching behind his head with one hand to grab the collar of his shirt. He pulls it over and off, tossing it aside.
“Spread it around. Make a mess,” he instructs as he goes for the belt on his jeans.
For a moment, you’re stunned, staring at Captain Price’s bare chest. While he’s muscular, it isn’t from a life in the gym. He is thick in all the right places. A solid wall with a beautiful dusting of dark hair that travels downward.
The belt is gone, and that too is tossed aside.
Without removing your gaze, you tentatively discard your shirt, but keep your bra on. It’s a barrier. A safety net. Price isn’t even glancing at you, but you do notice some color at the tops of his cheeks. A soft pink that makes your thoughts spiral outward to imagine if this gentle blush is the same color as the head of his cock.
Price’s jeans go next, already discarded before you move on to the next article of clothing. He’s only in socks and black boxer briefs. There is so much of him on display that you’re starting to forget yourself.
He glances at you, and that color in his cheeks darken. “You’re still dressed.”
You open your mouth to answer but then you hear a shout from down the hall and sharp banging on a door. They’re far too close.
This urges you on, moving with faster intention, and once you’re down to just your bra and underwear, you finally glance at Price again.
Price—who is naked. Completely bare. And you have a full view of what he’s been packing underneath all that.
Fuck.
He approaches the bed, and tugs back the sheets. The muscles in his arms and back tense as he crumples the bedding to sexed perfection—as if the two of you have been going at it for hours.
Price sits down on the edge of the bed and slides underneath, his legs parting enough that you get a glimpse of everything. This man isn’t even fully hard but from what you can see, it would be a tight fit if you actually sat on him.
Lifting a pillow, Price checks for the pistol and then sets it back, settling into the sheets. He frowns slightly when his attention returns to you.
“All of that has to go.”
“Does it?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.
There’s another thunderous pounding on a nearby door followed by shouting.
“It does if we’re going to make it out of here alive.” Price shrugs, and then smirks. “Could help you.”
Sighing heavily and you reach behind your back, unclasping the bra. You hurl it at him and Price catches it out of the air. Crossing your arms over your chest, you hurry toward the bed. But you don’t make it beneath the sheets.
“Everything,” repeats Price.
Reaching out, Price snags the thin cotton fabric and pulls down, revealing you to him and the room. Instinct as you grasping for control, hands splayed over his large forearms as he gives the fabric another yank.
You cannot form a response. Words leave you as Price drags you into the bed with him.
“Sorry about this,” he grumbles, that color returning to his cheeks in full force. It’s cute actually—how sheepish he looks.
You swallow, and lick your lips. “It’s fine.”
Price leans back against the pillows, guiding you with him. “Get on top.”
Straddling his hips, you settle yourself over him. You try—and fail—to not notice the way the hard length of him nestles against your pussy. You keep one arm crossed over your breasts but all it does is hides your nipples from him. Your other hand is splayed wide and pressed against his chest.
“We’re married,” he says, staring into your eyes. “That’s the story. I’ll do the talking. You act like the scared wife when they come barging in.”
You nod, and Price releases a deep exhalation. His hands rest on your thighs. They’re a brand. Warm. All you can think about. They move upward to settle on your hips.
“Pretend you’re riding me,” he murmurs.
With a gentle hand, Price grasps your wrist, drawing your arm away from your breasts. You don’t resist, and he brings your other palm to rest against his chest.
“Pretend,” he reiterates, hands returning to your hips. Price creates the motion by dragging you back and forth, imitating a rocking motion. Though you’re stationary, your pussy still drags against the length of his cock.
You notice the tremor in his jaw as your bodies rub against each other. This is affecting him as much as it is you.
“Pretend,” you say back to him.
Price nods and then grabs for the television remote from the bedside table. He turns it on and then ups the volume. You imitate the motion he created, rocking back and forth, sliding yourself along his cock, pretending you don’t notice how wet you’ve become over the course of the last few minutes.
His hands return to your hips, and then Price sinks back completely into the pillows, his eyelids softening as he gazes up at you. It’s far too intimate of a stare, and it’s only compounded when one of his hands meander upward to slide over your stomach and then between your breasts. You gasp as his thumb traces the underside of your breast.
Head tilting back, you grind downward, finding yourself diving into the warmth that’s starting to pool low in your belly.
A sharp pounding at the door has you snapping to attention. Every muscle tenses. Seizes.
“You’re fine,” coos Price. “We’ll be fine.”
The pounding comes again and then a yell from behind it. The voice is muffled. Not only by the door but from the television.
Swallowing, you try to connect into it again, rolling your hips, imagining that Price is your husband—that you love him—and this is simply an exploration of that love.
When you roll your hips again, Price sits up slightly, his warm breath brushing against your breast. A tingle shudders through you, and Price groans before his tongue grazes over your nipple, bringing it to a point.
“Knew you’d taste sweet,” he says softly at the same moment the hotel door bursts open.
One second, you’re atop Price, and the next his arms are around you, turning you away from the door to hide you from sight. You’re not on your back but Price has shoved you toward the bed as he sits up, creating a barrier between you and the intruders.
The tactical-clad trio entering the room—with a hotel worker nervously trailing behind—
don’t even get a word in before Price starts going off on them.
“Get out! Get the fuck out!”
His accent is gone, replaced by an American one. It’s incredibly good, and his feigned anger even more so. The men entering faulter under Price’s tirade. They likely weren’t expecting this, and Price uses this opportunity to push the advance.
“We’re fucking busy in here. Fuck off!”
The man at the head of the trio clears his throat and holds up a hand, but Price chucks one of the water glasses at the man. The guy ducks and it shatters against the wall. The hotel worker at their back squeaks and pushes forward.
“We’re so sorry. Just a search for some prison escapees. We’re clearly in the wrong room.”
Prison escapees? You want to laugh but think better of it. Instead, you press your face against Price’s arm, feigning sheepishness.
Price’s lips turn into a snarl, and the hotel worker blanches.
“We’ll give you a complimentary stay for the inconvenience,” the man babbles before waving his arms to usher the other men out.
For a moment, you don’t think it’ll work, but they go.
You and Price don’t sigh with relief until the door shuts. His forehead presses against yours, chest heaving.
“Nice accent,” you whisper and this draws a smile from his lips.
“Like it more than this one?” he asks, his regular accent returning.
“Nope,” you say. “This one suits you fine.”
Price’s gaze draws over your exposed body and then lands on your face. It’s soft. Sensual. You’re frozen beneath it, breath catching as his fingers brush along the line of your jaw.
You’re not sure who moves first but his lips are on yours and then you’re moaning. Price rolls you onto your back, each kiss more demanding and fiercer than the last. He tastes of the mint toothpaste he used earlier and smells of soap.
Reaching between your bodies, you find him hard, and there is no other need within you but the one that craves for him to be inside. To fuck you ceaselessly.
You stroke him and Price groans into your mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat. Hooking your legs behind him, you guide him to your entrance. With a light press of your heels, Price takes your meaning.
There is no gentle pretense. No soft kisses or playful coaxing. Price goes all in, and you break the kiss to gasp aloud, nails digging into his back. Price is thick and having him inside you is a deliciously painful stretch.
It is all desperate the way he moves. Price isn’t gentle. It’s skin slapping against skin. It is sweat and groans. A savage hardness that borders on hysteria.
Your hand reaches behind you to press against the headboard as Price fucks you into the bed, but even that is shaking, banging loudly against the wall. It’s clear even over the drone from the television. The people next door will know exactly what the two of you are up to.
Price is relentless. A man starved. He nips at your bottom lip. Sucks it into his mouth. And when that isn’t enough, he goes for your neck and then your breasts, making your nipples smart and throb under his teeth and tongue.
The orgasm comes sharp and hot, bursting forth like a wave. And when you squeeze around him, Price is right there with you, his cum coating your insides as he too finds his end.
The two of you are all heavy breath. Sweaty limbs.
Price nuzzles the side of your neck, placing soft kisses there until he travels up to find your lips again. These are gentle. Not desperate like before.
When there’s a moment to speak, it is you that breaks the silence.
“So much for pretending.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
It’s the middle of the day but you wouldn’t be able to tell.
A storm is raging—the rain thick and heavy. It falls from the sky in large drops that soak clothes and slick the skin. It’s a bit cold, too. A little chilly. The kind of wet chill that hardens the nipples and brings a shiver to your bones.
“Here. You’re soaked.”
Kyle presents a towel. It’s off-white and a bit frayed. But what can you expect from a motel in the middle of nowhere? Having a towel at all is nice. At least it isn’t threadbare.
“Thanks,” you reply softly, gently dapping the rough-textured material against your face.
Kyle strides over to the heating unit. It’s dirty and barely anchored to the wall. He hits a few buttons and then the thing turns on. It’s loud. Clunky. But heat starts to seep from the slats, warming the room.
After drying your face, you begin to remove outer pieces of clothing. Kyle might be your teammate, but there isn’t really anywhere to hide but the bathroom. Knowing the state of most motels, you don’t really want to find out either.
Kyle has the same idea. He dries off with his own towel, removing soaked articles of clothing as he goes. You try not to look—to be discreet—but it’s hard not to steal a peek. Kyle is all toned muscle and firmness. There’s a light dusting of hair on his chest. It’s a bit thicker around his navel. It trails downwards, and your mind wanders to a place it shouldn’t.
You glance away but not fast enough. His gaze roams upward, finding you, and there he pauses, observing you as you did him.
Pretending is best.
You attempt to act like you don’t notice him at all, turning your back like you’re incredibly interested with the wallpaper that likely hasn’t been replaced in years.
It’s his heat that draws your attention—that steals your breath, and makes every muscle in your body tense with anticipation.
“You’re shivering,” he murmurs.
Kyle is so close. Close enough that his breath brushes against your bare shoulder. You’re just in your bra and underwear, the only items that aren’t completely soaked from the rain.
He inhales, and that exhalation teases your flesh again. Giving in, you close your eyes, sinking into Kyle’s presence.
When you open them again, you notice a mirror hanging on the wall. It’s great if you were trying to plan an outfit, but that isn’t what you notice.
Instead, you see yourself. And Kyle.
The backs of his knuckles lightly caress the side of your arm. His head is tipped forward and turned inward like you’ll turn around any moment to kiss him.
The urge is there. Tugging. Wanting you to do just that.
The two of you are always walking around the other, seeking comfort and closeness but never seizing it. Maybe you should. Maybe—turning around is the best thing you can do for yourself.
“Kyle,” you breathe, and his little hum in answer tightens that string.
Without hesitation, you do turn.
Kyle’s lips are right there. They’re parted slightly. Inviting.
His arm drapes across your waist, hand splaying wide against your stomach, pressing until the two of you are sandwiched together.
It’s not like you don’t want this. You do. You want Kyle. Have since the moment he introduced himself to you. But the two of you have always remained professional in every space you occupy.
And now there is no one around.
No one to see.
No one to know.
Your head tips back in answer, and Kyle leans into it, pressing his lips to yours. It is sweet. Gentle. More of an ask than anything else.
And you reply, meeting him in equal measure. The pressure on your stomach increases just as Kyle’s other hand wraps around the front of your throat, holding you still. Each kiss is a claiming, one you freely submit to.
Kyle is all sugared-warmth, and you want to rot your teeth.
Draping your arm around the back of his neck, you pull him closer. Kyle nips. Bites. Sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before soothing the burn with a few tender kisses. Heat blossoms in your core before morphing into an aching slickness.
You’ve been putting him off—brushing him aside.
Why wait any longer when Kyle is all you crave?
“Fucking hell, love,” he groans against your mouth.
Your lips part, and Kyle slides his tongue inside. His taste is everything, but you want to know him everywhere.
Your hand seeks, brushing against his hardness through his boxer briefs. When you slip your hand beneath the elastic band, Kyle’s only response to kiss you harder.
Wrapping your fingers around him, you start to stroke what you can with the little room you have. Your thumb brushes over the head of his cock and Kyle draws back.
“I’ve wanted this since I met you,” he says, voice a bit rough.
Twisting in his grip, you turn to face him. “Can I show you how much I’ve wanted you, too?” you ask, pressing your breasts against his chest.
Kyle loosens his hold and you drop to your knees, taking his boxer briefs with you. His cock is gorgeous. It curves upward slightly, and a pearly bead of precum blooms in the slit.
He whispers your name, and then you have him in hand. Stroking once. Twice.
You lick off that bead. Savor his taste. Go back for more.
Kyle grabs the back of your head, drawing you to him. You open your mouth. Swallow him down. Throating him until you gag.
“Fuck,” he groans, elongating the vowel.
You work him with hand and mouth, keeping a steady rhythm that has him weak and wanton. You have all the control—until you don’t.
“Let me fuck your mouth, love. Please.”
The please is what does it. You release his cock, placing both hands on his thighs. With a pleased growl, Kyle keeps your head stationary. You anticipate the first thrust, and it is sinful. The movement goes straight to your pussy as you imagining him fucking you there like he fucks your mouth.
Fingers dig into muscled thigh. You want to touch yourself, to tease your clit while he does it. He is a god above you—Adonis.
“Can’t wait to taste your cunt, love,” rasps Kyle. “Can’t wait to make you drip for me.”
His desire fuels your own, and you urge him on, gently cupping him with one hand, thumb lightly rubbing the sensitive strip of flesh there.
Kyle’s hips stutter, and you relax your throat, humming around his cock as your lips meet the base. He holds you there, and you take it all, thighs chaffing from the friction of you rubbing them together in anticipation.
You blink up at him, and Kyle wipes away a tear with his thumb.
“My turn,” he murmurs.
You’re on your feet and then on your back in seconds. All the wind is knocked out of you, and then Kyle’s tongue is there, sliding through your slickness. Parting. Teasing the opening of your vagina before trailing upward to circle around your clit.
Gasping, your hands reach for him. Kyle grabs both wrists, keeps them planting on your stomach as he fucks you with his tongue. His shoulders dig into your thighs, keeping them wide. He’s stronger than you even as your thighs quiver, wanting to close, wanting to shut.
Kyle groans against your pussy, and then he’s on your clit, moving in such an easy, languid way that everything explodes outward. A shudder passes from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Your pussy clenches. Unclenches. Clenches again.
Kyle doesn’t let up. He doesn’t cease. Every stroke strikes true and then your body betrays itself, overstimulation setting in, and the urge to wiggle away is paramount.
But just as you push at him—just as your body draws back. Kyle is releasing your wrists, pushing himself up and over you, spreading those legs even wider to slide inside.
The bed creaks beneath you, and then he’s thrusting.
Your moans of pleasure become one with the rain.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Single lamp. Lone bed.
Peeling paint. Dusty corners.
“Something’s on your mind.” Your voice is the only sound in the room other than the AC unit.
Soap’s sigh is soft and small as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
It’s the last night before the potential end. Before victory or failure. Just the two of you now with the plan to meet up with others later.
He nods, and you take a tentative step forward. “We attended the briefing. You know the details.”
“Aye.”
“Then what has you worried?” you ask, taking another step in Soap’s direction.
A warm, orange glow emits from the singular lamp on the bedside table. It’s not enough light to illuminate the cheap peeling paint or the dirt in the corners of the room. It only gives life to the bed and the side of Soap’s face.
It’s not like you have an unlimited budget. A motel room is the best the two of you could manage for some rest before moving on. The man at the desk didn’t even glance up when he asked if they only wanted a room for an hour.
You had asked for two beds. The man at the desk replied that no one who stops here asks for that.
One bed it is.
One bed.
Somehow, you’ll have to sleep beside Soap while simultaneously shoving down the urge to reach out to him.
Sighing, Soap leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. His gaze drifts slightly as if he’s not focusing on anything in particular. Running his fingers through his short mohawk, he tugs on the ends, mussing the freshly washed strands, creating a wavy mess.
Just that one movement as you leaning forward, nostrils flaring to inhale that clean scent.
“Adaptability,” he answers. Finally.
Instead of sitting on the bed beside him, you sink to your knees, resting your arm on the bed, and your chin on your arm.
The two of you have been on missions before but never together like this.
Never alone.
Keeping your gaze downward, you notice just how close you are to him—and how Soap leans in your direction, the edge of his knee brushing against the side of your hand.
It’s a small contact, but he’s warm, and that warmth is transferring into yourself, unspooling outward. It’s a difficult thing—because all this time you’ve harbored feelings for him, and yet have never acted on them.
“You’re quick on your feet, Soap,” you murmur, one finger absently extended to brush over the curve of his knee.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You can call me Johnny.”
Johnny. You’ve never called him that. Soap, sure. Sergeant MacTavish? All the time.
“I thought Ghost only had that right.”
Only Ghost calls Soap ‘Johnny.’ That’s understood by everyone.
Soap shrugs. “He did.” He glances at you, his smile widening. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”
Something swirls in your stomach, twisting like a knife.
“How would you like to hear it?” you reply.
Johnny’s smile, which is so wide and teasing, softens into a sultry smirk. “I have options?”
“You do.”
Johnny’s usual playfulness emerges. “Say it like you’re angry with me.”
“Johnny,” you say, deepening your voice to sound like Ghost.
He bursts out laughing, falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach. “Oh, aye. I’ll give you that.”
“What else?” you tease. “I demand more.”
“Say it like you’re annoyed with me.”
You do just that, and Johnny sits up, turning on his side.
“Again,” you prompt.
The middle of Johnny��s brow creases and then his hand cradles the side of your face. He closes the distance, kissing you deeply—as if you are his lover and not a friend.
But you don’t pull away. You indulge yourself, kissing him back just as sweetly.
You’re not sure how much time passes, just that it does, and his small retreat after it’s done is all you have in acknowledging its passing.
The withdrawal is short. Johnny doesn’t move away. He keeps his hand on your cheek. The tip of his nose nearly brushing yours.
“Say it now,” he breathes, voice raspy.
“Johnny,” but it’s not what you intended to say.
He sighs. “Again.”
“Johnny.”
This time he groans, and then your lips are fusing, becoming one. You’re dragged off the floor and into his arms, tangling in his heat, forgetting yourself completely.
“Johnny,” you repeat, and then your shirt is gone, followed by your bra.
He nips at the curve of your breasts before sucking your nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze flesh and you say his name again until it becomes a strangled moan.
The front of your jeans is open, and his hand is there, cupping your sex, fingers dragging through your wetness.
“Johnny,” but it’s to stop him, to remind him that this cannot go on.
“Fucking hell. Love the way you say my name.”
This melts your resolve. Makes your legs spread wider. Makes you shove at your pants and create plenty of space.
Johnny knows. He understands.
He yanks them down even as he peppers your breasts with little nips and kisses. Your fingers drags through his hair as he sucks the other nipple into his mouth, bringing it to perky attention.
One finger slides inside, and you groan loudly, legs falling wide as Johnny settles himself between.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, claiming your mouth and pumping his finger. You whimper as he inserts a second. “Wanted you so bad.”
Your pussy flutters, squeezing around him. It is Johnny that groans this time, and it is a primal sound.
“Can I fuck you?” he asks. “Please.”
“Johnny,” you breathe. “Johnny.”
“Need a yes or no. Tell me. Do you want me? I’ve wanted you.”
You answer by finding him—guiding him to the place you need him to.
With a low growl, Johnny pins your arms above your head, slotting his pelvis against yours, the head of his cock sinking in until you’re taking all of him.
“Johnny!”
“That’s what I want to hear,” he croons, starting to thrust.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“I can’t tell what blood is yours and what isn’t.”
“Can fucking do it myself.”
“Ghost—”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Simon,” you snap, and he stops fidgeting.
Behind the plain balaclava, you see the fire in Lieutenant Riley’s eyes. This man is your superior. At least, right now he is. But the mission is done. It’s over. Yet the two of you are stranded, and making contact with Price is going to take time.
Not to mention that Simon is injured, and you have no fucking idea where at.
“Let me help you,” you say as soothingly as possible.
You don’t want to fight with him. All you want is to help Simon, to clean him up, and get him into bed. Rest and healing are what he needs right now. Contacting Price can wait. Base can stew for a while longer.
The two of you are in a motel room in the middle of fucking nowhere America. It’s shit overall, but it will have to do. There’s no way anyone is searching for the two of you out here. You drove until you nearly ran out of gas, and then you refilled and drove some more. Simon was in the back of the car, covered in blood.
But he was awake. Moving. Not a head injury, and not enough to get him immediate medical treatment. Not like he would have allowed you to take him to a hospital anyway. Lieutenant Riley is fucking stubborn. Sometimes infuriatingly so.
Simon stares, hard, his dark eyes intense behind the balaclava. He blinks, and then pushes up from the chair, keeping his gaze trained on you.
“Lieutenant,” you mutter, annoyed.
As Simon stands and attempts to take a step forward, his left leg wobbles, and he nearly topples forward. Your arms go out to catch him, holding him steady. He’s a big guy, and he seems to know this because he tries to prop himself up using the chair.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” you snap.”
“Listen—”
“I’m not arguing with you Simon Riley.”
Using his full name shuts him up. It’ll likely earn you a reprimand later, but fuck it, you’re over this.
“Stay there.” You shove him back down into the chair and head into the bathroom.
There is a single overhead light. Flipping the switch turns it on and the fan. It’s a tight space, but thankfully the shower isn’t also a tub. That would be a nightmare getting him in. Instead, there is a sink, a toilet, and a dividing wall that cuts the room in half. It’s more like a locker shower but it’ll work.
Reaching in, you turn the handle. You jump back as cold water shoots out of the shower head. After waiting for a few seconds, steam starts to rise.
You take a deep breath, knowing what you have to do. “You got this,” you murmur, heading back into the room.
Simon leans forward in the chair, forearms resting on his knees.
You hold out your hand. “Let’s go.”
Lieutenant Riley’s head swivels in your direction. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” you reply, holding firm. “Come on.”
With a deep sigh, Simon reaches out and slides his hand into yours. It’s warm. Calloused. You squeeze it and step forward, extending your other arm to wrap around his torso. Simon stands. Wobbles. But you snake your arm around him, and then it’s a slow trek into the bathroom.
Simon is limping, but he’s showing no other signs that his injury hurts him. Might be minor, or he’s just good at covering up the pain.
Once the two of you are inside the bathroom, you realize just how small the space is. Maneuvering Simon to the shower is difficult, a weird dance to wiggle around the door and toilet to the opening of the shower.
You retreat slightly, and Simon leans against the wall, his eyelids closing as he takes a deep breath.
“You good?” you ask, concern creasing your brow.
Simon nods. “I’ll manage.” His eyelids open slowly and then he stares into the shower. “You want me in there?”
“You’ll need to remove a few things first,” you reply, gesturing toward his uniform.
Simon snorts. “Trying to get me naked?”
“You wish,” you retort, even as your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Need help?”
At first, Simon doesn’t say anything. He just reaches for his belt, removing it slowly with one hand.
“I’ll leave you to it,” you mumble, starting to turn away.
“Wait.”
You freeze, and then glance over your shoulder. “What is it?”
Simon shrugs. “What if I slip? Might need you to catch me.”
This bastard.
“Then I’ll stay,” you reply cooly, pretending that this doesn’t affect you.
But it does. It’s reshaping you, and Simon’s slow undressing isn’t helping things. He keeps his gaze on you the entire time, and you purposefully keep your eyes averted, when really you want to look. You want to know what he’s like under all that.
The belt goes. So does his tactical gear and jacket. Next is his shirt followed by his balaclava. You sneak a peek then, and Simon grins at you like he knew you’d look eventually.
“I’ll need some help with these. Getting them down that is.” Simon gestures towards his pants and you feel your face grow so hot you fear it might explode.
“Sure.”
You reach for him, silently chastising your shaking fingers. This is too much, even though you like it, and want more from it. You undo the button and zipper. Sliding your hands beneath the band, you shimmy Simon’s pants to the floor. He kicks them away and all that’s left are his boxer briefs. They’re tight and you notice the massive bulge in front.
Fuck.
“You can do the rest,” you reply, glancing away.
Simon removes them, and then he starts forward, arms outstretched to balance himself as he enters the shower.
“Fucking hell,” moans Simon as the hot water hits his body.
The groan that comes after is deep, and so sultry you feel a bolt of pleasure spike from your pussy.
“Should join me.”
“No thanks,” you say, averting your gaze away from Simon’s muscled backside.
One moment you’re facing the wall, and the next you’re under the spray of water.
“What the fuck,” you shriek, stumbling backward as Simon chuckles. Muttering under your breath, you stare down at your soaked clothing. “Goddamn it.” You start removing articles of clothing, the wet fabric peeling away from your skin.
“Fucking fine, Simon.”
You shed everything and storm under the spray, only for Simon to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him. There is no pause between then and the moment his lips find yours. It is sweet, and warm. You instantly melt, enjoying every second.
But it’s fleeting.
You draw back, heart hammering in your chest.
“You’re covered in blood. Remember?”
Simon shrugs and then offers you the soap. “Clean me then.”
You do it, and when you’re done, he does the same for you. It’s far too intimate, and Simon’s gentleness is surprising. Once finished, you dry and bandage the wound on his leg. It’s not terrible—and will likely need stitches—but it’s not bleeding anymore.
The singular bed in the middle of the room is far too small. Not with Simon in at, spread out and naked under the sheets.
You slide in beside him, not knowing where you should settle. Simon is large, taking up most of the best. The only place is curled up next to his side.
Turning your resolve to steal, you settle in. You begin to turn away from Simon, but his arm shoots out, grasping your waist. You’re yanked across the bed, only to find yourself in Simon’s arms.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Stop pretending, love. We both know what’s going on. Don’t deny it.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Simon—”
“We’ve been making eyes at each other for fucking months. And now we’re alone. You think I don’t see the opportunity?”
Simon’s hand slides over the curve of your ass, and then dips beneath your shirt. You’re not wearing underwear, and when his fingers brush over your pussy, you gasp, pressing into him.
“You’re already wet for me,” growls Simon as he drags a finger through your folds. “So fucking wet.” He presses in, and your pussy parts for him.
“We can’t, Simon. You’re injured.”
“Not so much,” he coos. “Especially since I can do this.” On this, Simon drags the tips of his finger along the inside your pussy, hitting that sweet spot.
You moan, fingers digging into his chest as your back arches to press you further down on him.
“It’s just my leg that’s injured.” Simon’s lips brush against your cheek and then the edge of your ear. His breath is warm against your skin. “I can still fuck you. Have you on top. Bounce you on my cock.” Simon gives the curve of your ear the faintest kiss. “Would you like that, love? Do you want me to fuck you?”
“We—we—”
With his other hand, Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you against him, silencing whatever it is you’re trying to say. He seizes your mouth in a fierce kiss. You open for him, and his tongue slides inside. He tastes nice, and you want to sink into the feeling. Have him devour you completely.
“Let me in,” he murmurs against your lips.
You push up, doing exactly as he wants you to do. You settle on his lap, his hard cock pressed up against your thigh.
With a low growl, Simon removes your shirt, leaving you completely bare to his gaze.
“Much better,” he says, cupping your breasts as you lean on his chest, lifting your hips.
His cock slides through your folds, and then you start the descent, moaning as he splits you in two. The stretch is intense—nearly sharp with pain, but laced with pleasure. Simon’s eyelids flutter slightly, and his groan is pure sin.
Simon lightly squeezes your breasts one more time before his hands find your hips. He lifts you up, and then back down, bouncing you on his cock. You cling to him, allowing him to use you, to fuck you in whatever way he wants.
Each grunt and growl from him only makes you wetter. Hungrier.
“I’m gonna come inside you.”
It’s not a question. There is no other option, and you wouldn’t take anything else even if there was.
“Please,” you whimper.
Simon’s hands tighten, his hips thrusting upward to meet every downward movement. He sits up, his mouth clamping around a nipple to nip and suck. Your orgasm roars up from nowhere, and then you’re clenching around him, milking Simon’s cock as his own end greets him.
taglist:
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@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
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@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im
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kentopedia · 1 year
Text
♰ pain reliever — okkotsu yuuta
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 2 - vampire!yuuta
your vampire boyfriend can't resist the taste of you during a certain time of the month
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, smut, period sex, vampire!yuuta, cunnilingus, blood drinking, slight teasing — 2.2k
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a steady ache in your abdomen pulls you out of your previously deep sleep, the dull throb increasing with every second. it’s the middle of the night, and your eyes are still heavy with exhaustion, the back of your eyelids burning when you try to squeeze them shut once more. 
though, no matter how many times you flip to the other side, the pain won’t subside, not even a little bit. you’re left curling into a ball, glaring at the emptiness of the dark. 
beside you, the bed is empty, though that wasn’t unusual for the middle of the night. still, it would’ve been nice to curl up into another body, to feel your boyfriend’s large palm rub over your stomach, in the hopes that it would ease the cramps.
you shift onto your stomach and check your phone, already missing yuuta. it’s just a little over three, but there’s no messages from him, no indication as to where he’d gone for the evening. 
you contemplate calling him; but when your finger hovers over his name, you click your phone off and sigh. they’re just cramps—nothing you can’t handle on your own. this time of the month had come and gone a hundred times before. you just need a heating pad and some pain reliever, and that should be enough to lull you back to sleep.
with eyes that are half-shut, you lazily slump towards the door, feeling far too much like a zombie. the floor is cold under your bare feet, and you shiver, picking yuuta’s sweatshirt up off the edge of the bed to throw it on. 
the moment you open the bedroom door, a wave of overwhelming perfume assaults your senses, the mixture one of every fall aroma. it combines into a cloud of smoke and wax, and its too much, far too much. the smells nearly have you choking. 
in the living room, there are thirty different flames lit, spread across the surfaces. they illuminate the room with a haunting glow, showcasing yuuta, who sits in the corner of the sofa, contemplative. 
“yuuta?” you say, calling out his name. he clenches his jaw but keeps his eyes forward. with his acute hearing, he’d probably heard the breath you took when you woke up, and every movement you’d made after that. “the candles are giving me a headache, baby.” your eyes begin to water from the smoke in the air, and one by one, you start to blow them out. 
“no!” yuuta exclaims, and when you turn, his irises are darker, wide as they watch you move around. “leave them.”  
you frown, but blow another one out as yuuta squeezes his palms to his side. his back goes taut, straightening as tension stretches him thin.
“it’ll just make me nauseous.” there’s a sour taste growing in your mouth, a pain in your temple. you reach for the final three candles. they aren’t as strong, but they still fill the air, a culmination of pumpkin, vanilla and coffee. “i started my period.” 
yuuta’s eyes flash as he watches you bend over to blow out one of the candles, your lips puckering, before you move to the last flame. his gaze is careful, considering as your little exhale extinguishes the fire.
“i know,” yuuta says, grabbing your wrist before you can blow out the final flames. his dark locks are loose, falling over his paler skin as he licks his lips. a sharp gaze pins you, tracing from your forehead to your chin. “i could smell you all the way from the bedroom.”
you blink, swallowing at his predatory eyes, the way his pupils darken, sharp white canines curling over his lips. it’s easy to forget, truly, how dangerous he is. he’s sweet and caring—not like the vampires you’ve seen in the movies—but he is, still, a vampire.
yuuta lures you in, inching you closer until you’re beside him on the couch, your breath the only sound between you. “i thought you were…” you trail off, a part of your voice cracking. “didn’t you go hunt?” 
it seems like a strange word to say, but you couldn’t think of a better one. you suppose, at the end of the day, he is more of a creature than a man. his instincts ones of bloodlust, ones that he has to fight against every moment that he’s with you. 
“couldn’t leave,” he says, his voice coming out clipped. “tried to, but i just kept thinking of your sweet blood. tastes so good.” his hand rests on your thigh, fingers rubbing small circles near your hip. “are your cramps getting bad?” 
you look at him from under your lashes as he licks his lips, pushing you backward slowly, until your head hits the arm of the sofa. the palm on your body is cold, but it does little to cool your heated skin. 
“it hurts,” you finally nod, breathing heavily as he smiles, sympathetic to your pain. 
“let me help,” yuuta inches a finger into your waistband, slowly dragging down your shorts. his tongue darts out across his lip, hungrily, like he might have trouble controlling his urge to devour you. 
you swallow. when you still him with a touch to his wrist, he simply cocks his head, curious, his fingers still resting between your shorts. 
“get a towel first,” you say, but the request is ignored. he slides the shorts completely off, lowering his head. “you’ll make a mess.”
yuuta ignores you, salivating as he kisses from the crevice of your knee, up your thigh. he inhales deeply against your hipbone, the strong aroma of your arousal and blood almost too much for him. 
bowing his head, he presses his lips to your cunt, licking you through your panties, lapping at the spot of blood that had already begun to stain there. “i don’t plan on wasting a drop, princess.” 
a stuttering breath leaves you, and your head falls back as yuuta kisses you softly over the cotton. his tongue flicks out, warm and wet, licking a stripe through your folds. the thin piece of cloth sucks into them, blood seeping through. 
“yuuta,” you whine, impatient he takes his time with you, his long fangs catching on the flimsy underwear. 
“don’t want to go too fast.” finally, he glances up, stares at you with hungry, black eyes. yuuta drags your panties off, but he’s far too slow, teasing you. “you know how much i love sucking the blood from your pretty pussy, hm?” his voice comes out in a near growl, and his grip grows tight around your knees, spreading your legs further. “wait for it all month.” 
he runs a tongue over sharp white teeth, hungry at the sight of you spread out, bloody and bare, just for him. 
“even when it hurts?” you ask in a small voice, but yuuta smiles, his thick eyelashes fluttering. his dark lips curl at the corners, more mocking than kind, drinking you in.
“it won’t hurt for long, love.” yuuta kisses the inside of your thighs, licking every inch of skin he can manage to get his tongue on. “besides, you get turned on so easily when you’re bleeding.”
he pushes his tongue against your entrance, curling over your wet arousal. the kisses are with such care, reminiscent of the sweet boy you’re used to loving, the one who stumbles over his words and still flushes hot when you kiss him. though, that familiarity only lasts for a moment. once yuuta gets a taste of you, his hunger doubles. 
he sucks, hard, his lips around your clit, the pressure sending a wave of desire through your body. you reach down and grip his dark locks, in any attempt to guide him within your thighs. though, you’re under yuuta’s control completely, and he licks deep in you, gathering the clots of blood onto his tongue. 
“fuck,” he hums against your cunt, his nose nudging your clit as he curses. the vibrations of his words shake you, and instinctively, your thighs try to squeeze together. but yuuta is stronger than you—much stronger—and he keeps them spread apart, fingers leaving tiny imprints on your skin. “you’re so sweet. so good for me. never tasted anyone like you before.” he praises, but its hard for him to speak as he fucks his tongue into you, lapping at your juices like its the nectar of gods. 
you can’t think of anything to say, and a soft whimper leaves your lips, the sound of his name barely audible with your exhale. yuuta’s fangs are smooth against your hot body, almost soothing as he runs his tongue along your folds. 
“i’ll make the the cramps go away.” he says. yuuta’s been replaced by a much cockier, confident version of the occasionally awkward vampire. his fangs gleam as he looks up at you, and your eyes flutter shut, hardly able to focus on the sight of him sucking at your bloody pussy. “promise, princess. it’s the least i can do when you keep me so well-fed.”
you nod, humming, but the sound is lost as yuuta dives back down, the blood coating his lips, his nose, dark against his chin. he takes both your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, reaching deeper in your hole as you moan, far too sensuously for the silent room. 
“yuuta—” you start, but you don’t remember it feeling this good before, you don’t remember pain ever being taken from you so easily. the words die, and you begin them again. “your tongue—”
he smiles, tightening his grip as he sucks faster, harder. “feels better?” 
“almost,” you say, breathless. “it’s… not enough.” 
yuuta groans, but he pulls back, licking the blood off his lips. “course it’s not,” he says. “so greedy, sometimes.” he presses, small, quick kisses across your thigh, teeth grazing the skin, and slides a finger into you; then another. 
his fingers are long, far longer than his tongue, and he stretches you, your walls sucking them right back in. with a gasp, you squeeze your thighs around his head, but yuuta just sighs. 
“please,” he says, teeth against the soft skin of your thigh. “please, can i?”
he’s close to begging, even though you’re the one who’s desperate, and you nod, needing him to curl farther into you, to reach the spot that’s deep within you. the sounds grow louder, lewd as his fingers sink in and out of you, so thick within your tight cunt.
yuuta bites you, then, sinks his fangs into your thigh, and you nearly scream, arching up into him as you start to tremble. 
his usually white teeth stain a deep scarlet, and he groans against your body, pulling back to watch you. “want you to cum for me, nice and hard, okay baby? we gotta get rid of those cramps.” he drinks from your thigh again, and you’re so close, not even realizing that you’re thrusting your hips up to meet his fingers as he goes inside you. 
“y-yuuta” you say, taking two hard breaths when he abandons the open wound on your thigh, and returns to sucking your clit, rubbing you with just enough force. the ache builds up and up, and you’re right on the ledge, about to fall over, his name leaving your lips once more in a cry. 
“that’s it,” he says, pumping in and out of you, graceful and heavy. “oh you’re so pretty, you know that? i’ve lived for centuries, and in all that time, i’ve never seen anyone look as perfect as you when they cum.” 
you break then, squeezing his fingers as babbled words leave your lips in a moan. your entire body shakes, convulsing as you reach blissful release, and you slump back on the couch, your head hitting the arm rest.
yuuta slides his fingers out of you slowly, and then he sticks them in his own mouth, licking every drop of your blood and juices from his hand. his eyes are blown wide with lust, hazy and dark as he drinks you up. 
“i can’t get enough of you,” he says, his voice so hoarse that the words are almost nothing at all. “my sweet little human girl.” yuuta doesn’t move, but he’s so lost in the taste of you, even as his cock strains hard against his flannel pajama pants. “just right there for the taking. a warm body full of the most delicious blood. mine.”
you pull him close then, needing to kiss him, feeling his hard teeth bump against your own. he tastes metallic; it’s not as good as he makes it out to be. still, if it drives him crazy, turns him into an absolute addict from just the scent of you, you’ll gladly give him every drop he wants. a smile graces your lips as he groans into you, licking your mouth. 
“yuuta?” 
he pulls away for just a moment, blinking lust-blown eyes. “hm?” 
“my cramps are gone.”
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tags: @satohruu @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess
OCTOBER MASTERLIST
btw this was going to be a toji fic and then he lost the poll ... i did not know there were so many yuuta fans following me
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inkskinned · 8 months
Text
you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
#spilled ink#warm up#can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically#i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason#it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out#we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism#where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell#at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit#but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance#> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally#> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field#> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice#i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)
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7ndipity · 12 days
Text
First Time
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: What the members would be like during their first time with their S/o
Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, swearing, mentions of oral, fingering
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Jin:
I feel like the first time with him would be slightly planned, with flowers and candles waiting when you come home from a lovely date together. But you still make sure to let it happen naturally; if the vibes aren’t right, then he’d happily just kiss you and then call it a night.
If the vibes are right tho, he goes all out.
He can be quite intense at times, but he’d do his best during your first time together to still be gentle with you, with lots of kissing over every bit of your body that he can reach.
I think he would try to keep his own need in check at first, focusing on making sure that you’re completely relaxed and feeling as good as possible.
Once he’s actually inside you though, he would lose all of his composure, rocking into you at such a desperate pace that it takes your breath away.
Afterwards he would be extra soft, and probably a bit shy, hiding his face in your neck as you lay together talking.
Yoongi:
I see your first time together happening very naturally, whether it’s after a romantic date night or the result of a studio makeout session that escalated into you both grinding against each other for relief.
There’d definitely be some tongue technology™ happening. He seems very much to feed off others pleasure, so he would make sure you cum at least twice for each time he does.
Lowkey think he’d prefer you to be on top, especially for your first time together. He’d love being able to hold onto your hips while watching you with glazed over eyes as you find the rhythm and pace that has you both moaning.
Once you both get close to cumming tho, he’d take over a bit, gripping onto you tighter and thrusting up into you so hard that it sends you over the edge almost immediately.
Aftercare would be very soft and quiet, with him tending to you so gently and asking how you feel or if you need anything. He’s also definitely a cuddler, keeping you close for a long while after.
Hobi:
I see Hobi being very sweet and caring during your first time together.
Even though it was rather spur of the moment, he would still want to go slow and take his time with you, making sure that you were both fully comfortable with whatever is happening before things progress to the next level.
There would be a lot of experimenting with different things. He wants to learn every little thing that makes you feel the best and then push them that little bit further to make you see stars.
Despite the intensity of it all, I think he would still be quite playful and very ‘Hobi’ about the whole thing, both of you giggling and teasing each other even as you’re chasing after your highs.
I’ve said it before, but he’d be A+ with aftercare, making sure you’re clean and comfy before pulling you close again and telling you how much you mean to him.
Namjoon:
I see Joon going one of two ways during your first time together:
1. Super soft and tender with lots of soft touching and praise or…
2. Absolutely just fucking railing you after you both snap because you’re both just super desperate and can’t take the tension anymore.
Either way, he’d be super passionate, touching and kissing you with a bruising intensity.
I feel like he’d be very busy with his hands; one second they’re teasing over your chest, the next they’re slipping between your legs to tease and stretch you out for him(he’s very big on prep and foreplay, argue with the wall)
Once he’s actually inside of you, he’s a bit rougher, snapping his hips into yours hard and fast till you're both dizzy with pleasure.
Afterwards he would be super soft and gentle with you, making sure you have everything you need before you drift off to sleep in his arms.
Jimin:
Jimin would be very sweet and passionate, planning out a cozy evening in together, so that you could take your time together without feeling rushed and pressured.
It would start out innocent enough with just some soft, slow kisses, but his hands and lips have a habit of dancing around and making your head go fuzzy, and suddenly you’re straddling his lap and your top’s gone
I see him being a bit of a tease, wanting to see just how desperate and riled up he can make you for him before he finally sinks into you, teasing you with a hand between your legs while he leaves marks along your neck and chest, whispering tiny praises to you as he goes.
Once he finally feels you around him though, he turns almost as whiny and needy as he made you, thrusting deep and fast, desperately chasing your highs while still mumbling praises into your skin.
He would be so sweet with aftercare, not letting you lift a finger while he makes sure you’re clean and hydrated before cuddling up with you and talking til you both fall asleep.
Taehyung:
Tae would want your first time together to be very romantic, tho his perception of ‘romantic’ changes depending on the situation.
Like yes, obviously rose petals and candles are very romantic, but the idea of you both just getting completely lost in the moment and each other while you were supposed to be watching a movie or something is also very beautiful to him.
Either way, he would fucking worship you, tracing over every inch of your body with wide eyed reverence. 
I also see him getting a bit carried away and cumming a little faster than he would’ve preferred, but neither of you would really mind, especially since he’s probably ready to go again almost immediately, lol.
He would be very clingy afterwards, holding you close or laying on your chest, tracing patterns on your skin as you talk until one or both of you fall asleep.
Jungkook:
I think the first time with Jk would be very spontaneous and playful.
I see it happening after you’re both just like hanging out at his place and what started out as just a few teasing kisses spiraled into you pressed into the sofa under him as he fumbles with the buttons on your top.
He’s very much a tease, toying with edges of clothing or just ghosting his hands over where you need him most, but his own eagerness and need would keep him from being too mean, giving in almost as soon as he feels how wet and needy you are for him.
He would be soo intense, but would still try to keep you both grounded in some way, holding your hands tightly in his as he pounds relentlessly into you.
Aftercare would be where more of his soft side would come back, holding you close while you both catch your breath and then helping you clean up and making sure you have water or snacks afterwards.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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kazutora-kurokawa · 4 months
Note
Bonten with a reader who is literally a little princess; a girly (something like your tenjiku publication with a hyper feminine reader)
Bonten x Hyper Feminine!Reader
♡ SFW, suggestive, fem reader, fluff, reader likes dresses, skirts, heels, scrunchies, ribbons, bows and all that stuff, reader wears perfume and makeup ♡
Characters: Mikey, Sanzu, Kakucho, Kokonoi, Ran, Rindou, Mochi, Takeomi
note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷
note 2: my brain is simultaneously on overdrive and dead asf lol, this took me forever for no reason
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Mikey
💠 Emo boy and his princess girlfriend lol
💠 He doesn't mind your fashion sense and actually enjoys the pop of color and brightness you bring to his usually dark and bleak life
💠 Keeps you far away from the rest of Bonten, he doesn't want nor need you getting involved in his shit
Sanzu
🌸 Have you seen this man's hair? Bubblegum pink 🙄
🌸 He'd probably want to match hair colors
🌸 He'd absolutely sort through your hair clips and such, arranging them by color and size
🌸 Seems calm but is actually going feral on the inside whenever he sees you in a fluffy dress
Kakucho
🩷 Buries his face in your neck because he loves the smell of your perfume
🩷 Sprays his cologne on a jacket or shirt and leaves them with you before he goes on business trips, better yet he'll leave the whole bottle
🩷 Loves when you leave kiss marks on his clothes, even though the Haitani brothers (and Sanzu lol) poke fun at him for it
Kokonoi
💵 Bought every piece of clothing and accessory you own
💵 Tries heels on before he buys them for you, probably fell while walking in them too
💵 Does your hair for you even though he could definitely pay someone to do it instead, he likes the bonding experience
Ran
💜 Treats you like royalty, you look like a princess and deserve to be treated like one
💜 Lets you run wild with his credit cards because anything his princess wants, she gets
💜 Picks out your outfits everyday and gets pouty if you wear something other than what he picked
Rindou
🩵 Likes when you play in his hair and style it with hair clips
🩵 Let you put makeup on him once....never again lmao
🩵 He'd tie a ribbon on his arm for you, no doubt
Mochi
🍡 Wears your hair ties and scrunchies on his wrists, either you leave them with him or he just snatches them
🍡 Has probably ripped your skirt on an occasion or two, he's very heavy handed but he doesn't mean to be
🍡 Type of boyfriend to lift you up and spin you around just to see your dress flow in the wind
Takeomi
🚬 Refuses to smoke around you because he doesn't want to leave the smell of cigarettes on your pretty clothes
🚬 Constantly checking your closet for new clothes so he can know what not to buy you
🚬 Always finds your hair accessories and jewelry scattered around the house and struggles trying to find where it goes
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Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx
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b1rds3ye · 1 year
Note
AAAA i loved that 141 + masked reader one!! omg you're filling my head with mask ideas now...
what if reader had one of those LED masks that showed different facial expressions? just walking around going ":D" ":]" "^-^" "?" ">:(" as a substitute of their real expressions. omfg imagine them coming back from a mission and price is praising them on their work or smth and they just hit him with the "uwu"
I'm glad so many people are liking the prompt, I had a lot of fun with it too!! This is very much giving me Watch Dogs 2 Wrench but also Rina Tennoji omg there are so many legendary masked characters-
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The rest of the 141 were confused at first. While the mask provided anonymity, there was also the benefit of hiding facial information to an enemy. But now with these LEDs your emotions could be read like an open book, but ultimately they found it endearing.
Soap in particular loves your mask. Johnny loves surprising you to generate "!"s over the eyes and finds himself smiling every time your mask switches to a new emotion. As demolition expert, he prides himself over the one time he got you so riled up that an error message flashed across your mask. He's also genuinely curious about the mask and will gladly try to help if there are any technical difficulties or if you want a hardware upgrade. He's also the most unnerved out of the 141 if you ever turn the LEDs off, immediately by your side to comfort you as he can no longer read your mood.
Gaz doesn't often provoke you but he does find himself snickering whenever your expressions change from others. It's also an easy way for Kyle to keep track of how you're feeling, even when no one's around your mask automatically goes ";-;" when you're feeling down and he'll check up on you. Whenever he does make a joke though, he's immediately looking to your mask to see if someone will appreciate his humour. He also wishes you turned off your mask more during missions, the little angry face your mask makes isn't intimidating in the slightest and he can't risk getting distracted cooing over you during an op.
Ghost is very curious. Your own mask has him wondering if his own needs a bit of an upgrade - perhaps an LED skull mask with a moving lower jaw. Simon's heart warms up a bit at how you've picked a mask that's still so comically expressive, he enjoys interacting with someone that's so upfront with their emotions. He won't admit it but he finds it cute how your mask goes "-_-" whenever he says one of his horrendous "military humour" jokes. He's considerate of your mask and ensures that there is no water or liquids nearby.
Price's first concern was practicality (how the hell were you going to use night-vision?) but once the mask seems to work without a hitch, he now checks on your mask to not only gauge your mood but as a visual indicator of the overall atmosphere among the rest of the task force. You're now his favourite person to praise. He doesn't give it freely of course, but most of his subordinates will try to hide their smiles as they glow under his praise as they keep up their tough soldier persona. You though? The sudden "! o !" and then consequential "^_^" as you walk away with a hop in your step is probably the sweetest thing he's seen in his entire military career.
It's all fun and games until you turn off the LEDs - usually done in dark/covert missions or when you're interrogating the enemy. That's when you're truly unreadable, a masked terror. As you eliminate enemies in close combat the last thing they will see is their own face contorted into absolute terror as it is faintly reflected like a memory against the bottomless darkness of your visor.
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Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist
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hwanchaesong · 4 months
Note
Can I request a San and a seongwha version of the virgin reader request pleasee?
Too scared to show name so I'll leave an emoji🐈‍⬛
a/n: hello 🐈‍⬛ anon, imma just make this as a headcanon so i can post both of them at the same time. tysm 🩷
mdni! Seonghwa's under the cut
San & Seonghwa w/ a virgin s/o
💜 Choi San
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very very very sweet but also wild ‼️
like, you'd tell him that you're ready and he WILL pounce like a cat
he will pepper you with kisses to calm your nerves down
eskimo kisses to make you giggle bc he thinks that you, smiling under him is the MOST BEAUTIFUL scene he has ever seen in his life
man will make sure that you're comfortable at all times, guiding you throughout and watching out for your expressions
will definitely ask you your preferences
"are you okay? is my baby feeling good?"
"tell me if it hurts okay?"
like, he hears ONE grunt from you and he is stopping all motions to check up on you
will go missionary bc like i said, he has to see your face while doing the deed (it is a need)
he'll take it slow. make-out, smooching your skin all over
he won't forget to shower you with compliments
"my baby is so pretty"
"no no no, don't cover yourself. you're literally perfect"
"you feel so good, fuck, baby you're so tight"
body worship ‼️ you are a literal goddess in his eyes so he'll treat you like one
MIGHT be impatient when it comes to prepping you but dw!! he'll make sure that you're dripping and ready
uses his tongue and fingers VERY WELL
he'll have you mewling his name in no time
also, dancer hips galoreeee
he uses his hips so well. every thrust is loving but also it goes so damn hard
he's had you shaking and moaning
you wouldn't want any other man to take your virginity
you trust him and he will do everything in his power to make you feel safe and happy
you are HIS pretty baby, and he'll take care of you like that
🩵 Park Seonghwa
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MOTHER OF CONSENT
y'all be making out in his bed or something then suddenly you go 'pls take me'
and he's like: ??? "baby are you sure?"
he'll ask you that about 10 times before he's convinced and lemme tell you. HE'S SO CARING BUT ALSO A LIL DEVIL
he's so good in riling you up
feathery touches that leaves goosebumps on your skin
sweet, hot, and messy kisses in your lips and all over your skin
removing your clothes is like unwrapping a gift for him, he's delicate but he also got these predatory eyes
he delves into you like a hungry lion, but a sweet hungry lion
he asks you every damn time if he's doing okay, if you're okay
"You're not in any pain are you? Okay good, please tell me if you're uncomfortable"
leaves marks all over you bc he's possessive af
also will not stop unless you've came at least once using his finger and once on his tongue
OH MAN HIS TONGUE
he darts it out like a chameleon in every performance so yeah, he'll use that tongue technology on u 2
licks and bites galore
he goes all in once he's sure that you're all prepped up to take him
moves slow at first then he'll probably lose control bc ur moans are music to his ears
also a lil bit teasing
"do you want me to go faster, baby?"
"say please"
"does my baby wanna cum? go ahead then"
uses a lot of petnames and will probably curse a lot bc he loses himself in u
MOTHER OF AFTERCARE
pls he loves u so much he's willing to do anything and everything for u after this. he's basically at your mercy lmao
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222col · 1 month
Note
"i'll sign an autograph later, but right now, you're in my seat." I ALMOST MOANED. The entire fic was the hottest thing i have ever read in my entire life. I know this is probably a bad idea but can you make a part 2 of Womanizer Art where he takes her out and end the night with them sleeping together just for him to stop texting her again but when he asks her to be in a committed relationship she rejects him and tells him to stop texting her. After the rejection Art tries to go back to his old ways sleeping with other girls but they don't feel like y/n or just gets depressed and only focuses on his career but he realizes that he's falling more and more for y/n no matter how hard he tried distracting himself while y/n is living her life as if nothing happened. So Art starts stalking her, going to places she goes and sabotaging her relationships with other men and he keeps texting her and sending her gifts and flowers to her house literally doing the kind of things he's has never done to another woman before until she gives in and agrees to be his girlfriend 😩 pretty please PLEASE PLEAAAAAASE 🧎‍♀️
!!!!!! thank u thank u thank u xxx yes omg love that idea but this will never be as good as @lovetrt's stalker!art but i will try my hardest 🧎🏻‍♀️ part two of this <3 | cw: slight forcefulness
"get out my fucking house." art orders the blonde in his bed when she attempts to hold him. "but-" he cuts her off with just a look. scrambling for her belongings and running out of his room. he slips his boxers back on and reaches for his phone on the nightstand. he sends yet another text to you.
can you stop being a brat and just text me back?
scrolling through the endless messages he's sent you before locking his phone and attempting to sleep once he hears the front door close.
it's been a month since your date with art. he took you to dinner and then of course back to his, where he fucked you silly on his bed again. you stayed the night, had breakfast with him before returning home. you enjoyed the date, and art's company, but as you told him, relationships weren't your thing. art isn't used to being told no, especially from girls, so when you stopped replying to his texts and wouldn't answer calls, he had to take matters into his own hands.
he's been fucking anything that moves and spending all his other free time on the tennis courts. agreeing to more brand campaigns, just in the hope that you'll see him on an ad somewhere and coming running back to his bed. art wakes up the next morning, checking his phone first thing, as he always does now, praying you'll have text him back.
not even if i actually let you fuck me with a racket?
art got in touch with patrick's buddy's now ex-girlfriend, begging for your address, telling her some bullshit like you left your watch at his and he wanted to mail it to you. she doesn't buy it, but she likes art, and does as he asks. he's been sending you flowers and presents every few days, but he knows it's time to take the next step. throwing on shorts, a t-shirt and his baseball cap, he drives to your apartment. there's a coffee shop opposite, ordering a drink and sitting outside, waiting for just a glimpse of you. he's sat there for a while, until the door to your building opens, and he sees you. an oversized t-shirt hides your underwear you lean over and kiss the man you're ushering out the door. art grits his teeth, his mind full of thoughts of fucking you on the stoop of your building.
the guy leaves, looking too smug for art's liking. he can't help himself. running over and stopping him in his tracks. "how do you know that girl?" he asks. "woah, hello? what's it to you, buddy?" the guy questions art. "just fucking tell me." art pushes, closing the distance between them, intimidating him. "she's just some girl i fuck." stepping back away from art. "how often?" art needs to know, he needs to be told you haven't slept with this random gym bro more than you have him. "alright, twenty questions, like twice a week." art's angry, tempted to knock this guy out, except that yeah, art may be taller, but he doesn't think he's as strong. "for how long?" art keeps questioning. "christ man, look i'm sorry if she's your girlfriend or something, i met her like two months ago, we've been hooking up since then." art's eyes narrow, looking down at him. "stay the fuck away from her." he seriously doesn't know what's come over him, normally he can't stand to look at a girl after he's come all over her, but now, here he is, squaring up to a stranger that fucked you.
art comes to the coffee shop opposite your apartment most mornings, warning of any of the guys that you walk to the door. spamming your phone with more and more texts, he can't take it anymore. arriving at the coffee shop again, waiting for you to kick the guy out of your bed. he catches the door to your building as someone leaves, no more than ten minutes after you showed the latest guy out of your apartment. he runs up to your door, turning the handle, silly little girl not locking her door, he thinks as he enters your apartment. you've driven him crazy, he could get anyone else he wanted, but he's here, breaking into your home because the five minutes he sees you every morning aren't enough anymore. he needs to feel you, breath you in, taste you.
there you are, stood in your kitchen, making coffee in nothing more than a bra and panties. he's already hard, coming up behind you, covering your mouth with his hand, immediately kissing your neck. you try to scream, eyes wide as you extend your neck, trying to get a glimpse of your perpetrator. art fucking donaldson. you push your body off of him. "you're a fucking psychopath!" you shout, trying to steady your breath. his hand reaches between your legs. "why are you so wet then?" he's right, you're soaked. you hate how your body is secretly loving what he's doing. he's so fucking desperate for you, you've never seen anything like it. you slap him across the face, he turns back to you, his eyes are dark and he's smirking. he reaches over and grabs you by the throat, "stop acting like you don't want to fuck me right now." a moan escapes your lips, satisfaction spreading over his face.
"tell me, tell me you don't want me to fuck you and i'll leave." pulling you closer by the grip around your neck. you can barely breathe, forcing your words out. "fuck me, please," it takes seconds for him to spin you round and bend you over the counter. pulling your panties down your legs. "good girl, you even said please." he pushes his shorts down his legs, spanking your ass before pushing himself into you. your knuckles turn white, gripping the side of the counter so hard, his hands on your hips, bruising your skin as he thrusts in and out of you. "such a dirty little slut aren't you, baby," he bites your earlobe, all you can do is nod your head as your eyes roll back. he spanks your ass again, gripping and biting and sucking every bit of your skin he can.
"you missed this dick, didn't you princess?" you're not lying when you tell him yes, he's the best sex you've ever had. he lifts one of your legs on to the counter, pushing himself in deeper. it's mere moments before you're a mess before him, screaming his name as you orgasm. he kisses your back as you do, not slowing down until he pushes himself over the line, pulling out of you as his come drips down your legs. you both stay still for a few seconds, collecting your breath before art spins you round to face him. "will you please, please, be my girlfriend, fuck me," he's kissing all over your face. "art, you've only taken me on one date, and i told you, i don't do relationships." he only stops kissing you to reply. "i don't fucking care," he wraps his arms around your naked body. you hate commitment, it petrifies you, but something, somewhere in you is screaming at you to say yes. "if i say yes, will you stop sitting at that damn coffee shop every morning?" you're teasing him, and for the first time, you see art shy. "i'm sorry, i don't know what's happening to me, i'm not usually this fucking obsessive, you've done something to me." his head is buried in the nape of your neck. "fine, yes, i will be your girlfriend." his head shoots up, kissing you so intensely. "fucking finally."
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roosterr · 1 year
Text
white flag ✹ ch 2
note: thank you all again for the support on this series im seriously so grateful <3 not sure how to feel abt this part but pls enjoy anyway <3
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 3.0k
no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: the gang goes out to the pub, and against your better judgement you decide to tag along. you end up having far too much to drink and ghost has no choice but to look after you.
warnings: ghost is less mean (but it's still ghost), the usual angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, some ambiguous drunken confessions, mentions of throwing up but i kinda skipped over it
ao3
【prev】 || 【next】
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the relentless buzzing of your phone next to your head wakes you from your slumber. you groan, squinting at the screen to see soap's name on the caller id. you answer and lift the phone up to your ear, rubbing your eyes with the other hand as you pull yourself up to sit.
"hey! where are you?" soap's voice is almost deafening in your ear as soon as you pick up, you have to hold the phone away from you to save your hearing. "y'are still comin', right?" the faint noise of a crowd can be heard in the background, reminding you of what soap's question means.
you check the clock on your phone and wince at the time; it was almost nine, and you were supposed to meet them at the pub at eight.
"ugh," you clear your throat, your voice croaking from having just woken up, "yeah– yeah, i'm coming. just gimme, like, fifteen minutes."
"awright, l.t. said you was still asleep," soap chuckles, clearly amused by your sleep-addled state. you sit up and throw the blankets off your legs, swinging them over the side of the thin mattress and beginning the search for some clean clothes.
you hadn't gotten out of bed all day, opting to stay in your comfy pyjamas and barely leaving the living room except to briefly eat and use the bathroom. after the the disaster that was yesterday, you felt you deserved to have a lazy day for once.
"oh, so he already left without me? why am i not surprised?" you grumble, balancing your phone between your cheek and your shoulder as you pull on some trousers.
"he said he didn't wanna wake you!" soap is half laughing as he replies. you have to hold back your scoff as you put him on speaker and drop the phone onto the coffee table as you quickly put your shirt on.
"yeah, okay." your voice is dripping with sarcasm, and you can't help but roll your eyes, even though he can't see it, "i'll be there, hanging up now, buh-bye."
you just about hear his muffled 'bye!' before you press the red button and shove your phone into your pocket. 
you really didn't feel like being social right now, but maybe being around your friends and letting go is what you need right now. you could just ignore ghost – it's not like it'd be hard, you were fully expecting him to completely avoid you all night. knowing him, he'd probably make you walk home by yourself again.
the walk to the pub is uneventful, thankfully dry, and it takes you twenty minutes instead of fifteen. you feel a little bad for making them wait, but they've been there over an hour already, an extra five wouldn't hurt.
the noise of the crowd hits you as soon as you walk into the old building, and you hope it isn't noticeable the way you frown at the sight of how packed it was. you were feeling even less like socialising now that you were actually here, but it was too late to turn back now. your eyes scan the room, searching for your teammates in the sea of people. you spot a familiar mohawk fairly quickly, and begin pushing your way through the crowd to the booth he and gaz are occupying.
you glance towards the bar and price and ghost both there, too locked in conversation to notice your arrival. you'd have to find price later to say hello.
"sting, you made it!" soap's cheery voice brings you back to the present. he pats your shoulder as you slump into the seat next to him, and gaz slides your usual order across the table to you.
"ordered for you a minute ago." gaz smiles, leaning forward on his elbows, "figured you could use it."
"you're legend, gaz, honestly." you chuckle in response, taking a drawn out sip and relaxing in your seat. as much as you would rather still be in bed right now, you couldn't deny you needed it.
"you okay? you look a bit worse for wear." gaz asks, his gaze turning serious as he takes in your exhaustion.
did you? you hadn't actually looked at your reflection before you left the house, you simply hoped that you didn't look too dishevelled and didn't think twice about it. you suppose the bags under your eyes must be quite heavy after the nosedive your life seems to have taken lately.
"charming, thanks for that." you mutter, teasingly raising your brows at him as you take another sip of your drink.
"sorry, sorry," he and soap both laugh, before he regards you with a more concerned look, "but seriously, you doin' alright?"
"i'm fine, just tired, you know how it is." you dismiss his question with a wave of your hand, hoping he'll drop the subject and you can get started on forgetting about the events of this week. "sorry for being late, by the way."
"make it up to us with another round?" soap wiggles an eyebrow at you, tilting his empty glass at you and nudging your arm. 
"since you asked so nicely," you say with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. they both give you a triumphant 'thanks!' as you slide out of the booth and begin making your way through the crowds of people to the bar.
as you approach, you see ghost standing by himself at the bar, a black surgical mask cover the lower half of his face, and before you can stop yourself your legs are already leading you to the empty spot next to him. as usual he doesn't acknowledge you, but you can't find it in yourself to care through the buzz of the alcohol in your system.
you flag down the bartender and order the drinks for the three of you while adamantly trying to ignore the large presence next to you; you'd barely started on your first drink, but you were going to need more than that to get through this, especially if you and ghost were going to be dancing around each other all night.
the next couple of hours are filled with you downing drink after drink, steadily becoming less and less intelligible as the night progresses. at some point gaz excused himself to go chat with price at the bar, leaving just you and soap at the table. though you couldn't see ghost when you looked over, you had no doubt he was lurking in some shadowy corner somewhere, just watching.
"he's just so…" you wave your hands around, willing johnny to somehow understand your point as the words escape you, "...y'know?"
"do i know?" he laughs, obviously very amused by your drunken state.
"mean! he's rude and uncooperative, and it pisses me off." you groan, pressing your fingers into your temples. venting to someone about ghost was somewhat cathartic for you, even if that someone was his closest friend.
"aye, that's not how you really feel though, is it?" soap raises his brow, that insufferably teasing smirk on his lips as he gives you a light nudge.
"wha–" you gawk, freezing in the motion of downing your drink – you'd lost count of how many you'd had at this point. you narrow your eyes and glare at him, "garrick… he grassed didn't he?"
"you think i needed him to tell me?" soap laughs again, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the thought that you were really that obvious. "but seriously, you should talk to him."
"i should, right? i mean… we live together, it's not unreasonable to ask him to be civil."
"exactly!" he exclaims, making encouraging gestures at you with his hands. "maybe you two can get a bit more than civil," he grins mischievously and wiggles his eyebrows at you, earning an embarrassed groan from you.
"oh, shut up soap." you hiss, gulping down the rest of your drink in one go. "i'm not drunk enough for this…"
after that conversation, your concept of time truly left the building, along with any reservations you had about moderation. eventually you do find time to say hi to price, though you think he was probably laughing at how out of your mind you were rather than the hilarious joke you told him.
you're not sure what time it is when gaz, soap, and the captain track you down to say goodnight, leaving the pub with much more coherency than you when ghost drags you out with him.
the freezing temperature hits you as soon as you step over the threshold, but thankfully there's more than enough alcohol in you to keep you warm.
you started the night fully intending to give ghost the cold shoulder, but that was hours and however many drinks ago; now you were long past the fun part of being wasted and the depressive nature of it all was hitting you hard.
"i wish you– you didn't hate me…" you mutter, dragging your feet as you follow behind ghost. he's not walking as quickly as he did yesterday, but even in your inebriated state you can tell he's making sure to stay ahead of you.
"i don't." he replies dismissively, evoking an exasperated, albeit rather dramatic sigh from you. of course he was going to argue about it, owning up and apologising would be far too mature.
"y–" you hiccup, "yeah you do," frustration lacing your voice. you slow your pace until you completely stop walking, staring at the back of his head with narrowed eyes.
"i don't hate you, sting." he sighs, half turning his body to look at you. "come on, keep walkin'." he gestures with his head.
"ugh…" you groan, but comply and stumble forward catch up to him again "then why're you such a fuckin' prick all the time?" you glare at the side of his masked face now that you're walking next to him.
he says nothing, doesn't even look at you. if you didn't know any better, you would doubt he even heard your question.
"i don't hate you, y'know…" you mumble,  crossing your arms over your chest. "even though you're so– so horrible to me all the time." the urge to cry overwhelms you, your eyes falling to your boots as you shuffle along.
"i'm n–"
"you are!" you interrupt, throwing your arms out to the side and stopping in your tracks again. "every day you say shit to me, i don't– i don't get it! i don't know what to do…" you sniffle, dragging a hand over your face and taking a wobbly step backwards, away from ghost. "why can't you just be nice? like everyone else?"
the night air is cold, and so tense you can almost feel it. ghost's hands curl into tight fists by his sides as he stares you down. 
"i'm your lieutenant, sting, not your mate." he states it like a common fact as he reaches an arm out to you, stepping towards you. "you're drunk, come here."
you don't let him get close, however, and take another few steps backwards. "but you're friends with soap, and gaz, and even the captain!" your eyes well up with tears, and despite your best efforts to stop them, you feel the hot sting of them rolling down your cheeks. "what did i do wrong? why can't you like me too?"
again, he does nothing but stare at you. he blinks once, then twice, in what you might call shock – if you could see his face through the way the world spins around you.
"i like you!" you cry. "i always have, and you– you don't have to like me back, but please," you close your eyes in an attempt to alleviate your sudden dizziness, "just stop being such a dickhead to me! you make my life so difficult, and– and miserable!"
"sting…" ghost mutters, watching as you crouch down on the pavement with your head in your hands. he steps closer again, reaching a hand out to awkwardly pat your shoulder. "is that why you got yourself hammered tonight?"
"yes!" you whine through your tears, your head still swimming and causing you to sway slightly. "like you care!"
"listen," he begins, but you quickly cut him off by lurching forward onto your hands and knees on the harsh pavement.
"i'm gonna throw up–"
✹✹✹
"i'm sorry," you blubber, feeling rather pathetic where you're slumped next to the toilet, "please don't kick me out," tears still fall into your lap, but you gave up wiping them away a while ago.
"what?" ghost mutters from next to you. his calloused hands were keeping you upright from where he's crouched beside you on the bathroom tile. "why the fuck would i kick you out?"
"be– because i'm annoying, a– and you hate me…"
he sighs, "do you really think that lowly of me? how many times have i gotta say it before it gets through your thick skull?" he gently raps his knuckles against your forehead, "i. don't. hate you."
when you only sniffle in response, he sighs again before shifting to sit with his back against the bath next to you.
"well you could've fooled me…" you mutter, letting yourself lean against his side when the effort of keeping yourself up gets too much. you feel him flinch slightly and tense underneath you, but he doesn't move.
"i'm not good with…" he pinches the bridge of his nose, his head tilted downwards and his eyes squeezed shut. "i'm not kickin' you out, alright? no matter how much you piss me off." he pauses, and all you can do is watch him with your mouth slightly agape; this is the most he's ever said to you in one go since you met all those months ago. "and i shouldn't have run off last night. i just… i didn't realise you actually wanted to be friends… with me."
"bu…" your voice trails off, train of thought completely abandoned when he looks over and meets your gaze with his rich brown eyes.
"you're… you– i, er…" his eyes dart away from yours, finding a spot on the wall behind you to stare intently at. a sudden wave of exhaustion floods your senses, dropping your head onto his shoulder and allowing your eyes to fall closed, interrupting whatever thought he was trying to articulate. "fuckin' hell, alright… you're drunk, let's just get you to bed, eh?" his voice is just about audible as he manoeuvres your arm over his shoulders and lifts you to stand with practically no input from you.
he all but drags you out of the bathroom, and if you had any shred of coherency left within you you'd be mortified that he had to take care of you like this, but that's something for you to deal with in the morning.
you're pulled into the the living room where ghost drops you rather unceremoniously onto the sofa-bed, tugging the blankets from underneath you and settling them on top of your already half asleep form.
"night ghosty…" your sigh is muffled with your face buried into the pillow, but he pauses in the doorway when he hears it.
"goodnight, sting." he mumbles, before quietly shutting the door and letting you drift to sleep.
you wake up the next morning – or rather afternoon, since it was already one o'clock – with an absolutely splitting headache. it was expected, obviously, but it didn't stop you whining in pain as you sat up and clutched your head. how much did you end up drinking last night?
last night. right. it was all coming back to you now. you'd cried at ghost again, for the second night running, and even though he said he wasn't kicking you out, you would seriously prefer living on the streets to facing him right now.
you reluctantly emerge from the living room and squint at the bright daylight, groaning pitifully when your head pulses. maybe you should save yourself the trouble and just go back to sleep.
"so, you survived the night." ghost's voice calls from the kitchen, sounding incredibly unimpressed. you cringe at his words, naively hoping that he'd pretend the night before didn't happen like you so desperately wanted to.
"did i?" you grumble, walking through the doorway to find him sitting at the kitchen table, clad in his usual balaclava. you lean against the counter and massage your temples, "feel like i've been shot…"
"maybe you'll keep your head on straight next time. i don't want a repeat of that."
you purse your lips. "right…" you mutter, no energy left in you to come up with a retort.
"i had to drag you home, cryin' your eyes out." he gets up as he speaks, grabbing his cup and skirting around you to place it in the sink. he keeps his distance, but you see him watching you from the corner of your eye. "anyone would'a thought i was kidnappin' you."
"oh god…" you bury your face in your hands, your face heating up with the humiliation of the memory, "i'm sorry,"
"s'alright." he mumbles, still opting to gaze out of the window rather than meet your eyes. you blink in surprise at his short dismissal, but before you can formulate a response, he speaks again. "have a shower, sting. you stink."
you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget about that idea. he was right, of course. without another word, you scurry out of the kitchen and lock yourself in the bathroom. you drag your hand over your face, willing the floor to just swallow you whole already.
you might as well have just died in your sleep, because you can't see ghost letting you live any of this down for as long as you live; though, as you stand there contemplating fleeing the country, you notice that he hadn't been nearly as pissed as you'd expected him to be this morning. you'd anticipated him grilling you about how careless you'd been and how irresponsible it was to drink that much, but the light teasing you'd endured just now felt more like the kind of banter you witnessed between him and soap, or gaz.
you can't help the giddy smile that overtakes you, your killer hangover nearly forgotten in favour of the thought of him finally letting you get close to him.
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taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @ghostlythots , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @isseisslvt , @prodyng , @neteyamsb1tch , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @dimitriene , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @dommmymommy , @carolelacroix , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev
if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry!
1K notes · View notes
fallingdownhell · 1 year
Note
Omg pls a part two for Kaeya and Diluc forgetting your birthday it’s so good I LOVE ANGST <3
Alrighty, fine. Since so many more people asked for a part 2, here it is.But I can't promise that everything goes fine..
Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya
Content: gender neutral reader; hurt/comfort; angst; hurt/no comfort; one is gonna be forgiven, the other one not
Word count: 1,9k words
Please enjoy reading!
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Diluc
Gods, he was so exhausted.
He wished for nothing more than to just walk over to his bedroom and fall asleep on the bed, but he couldn't. He had some important matters he still had to attend to before he could go do that.
He was currently hunched over his desk, scanning over some documents that needed his attention. It was late at night, yet there was still light shining from under the door, as well as footsteps coming from the mansion.
Diluc paid that no mind however, trying to focus back on his work. However, when he heard a pair of footsteps walk up the staircase, he put his pen down, listening to them.
He was fairly sure that it was you, so he listened to it, hoping that you would come inside to check on him. He knew he shouldn't have lashed out at you like that earlier and he wanted to apologize to you for it.
However, the person outside kept walking, past the door to his office and instead went into the next room, which was the bedroom that belonged to the both of you.
At first, he didn't think too much of it, maybe you were just really tired and going to bed now. But, as he continued to listen, it got more and more strange to him. Your footsteps hadn't quietet down at all. You were apparently still walking around the room, he could hear the opening and closing of drawers and closets.
He had half a mind to walk over there and ask you what you're doing in the middle of the night. Then again, he wasn't really any better and he really had to finish this, but when suddenly a second pair of footsteps climbed up the stairs, his attention was taken to them.
A few seconds latter, soft knocking was heard on the wodden door, followed by Adelinde's voice asking to enter the study. Diluc allowed her inside but turned his attention finally back to his work.
He noticed her approaching the table and putting a plate down in front of him. He glanced at it, laying his eyes upon a nice looking piece of cake.
"Did you bake that, Adelinde? It looks delicious. I'll eat it once I'm done here."
He was about to dismiss her, but the fact that she hadn't said a word made him look at her with his full attention now.
"Master Diluc.. do you really not remember?"
"Remember what, Adelinde? You'll have to be more specific than that."
She looked at him for a few more seconds, it almost seemed to him like her eyes were boring into his very soul. Then, she turned around and approached the door again. She stepped out into the hallway, moving to close the door but before she did so, she said one last thing to him.
"Today was their birthday."
Then Adelinde closed the door, leaving Diluc in the room all by himself.
Hearing those words put him into a shock. No.. this couldn't be..
He...forgot?
Suddenly, thousands of times and situations played in his head where you tried to grab his attention and he had dismissed you every single time.. how long had he been treating you like this?
Then, a loud sound rang from the bedroom next door, and Diluc suddenly got ahold of himself again.
He immediately shot up and ran outside, bursting through the door to your shared room, startling you in the process. But the sight before him made his heart clench like never before.
The sight of you, stuffing some of your clothes and other belongings into a bag, your eyes red and swollen, probably from crying.
"D-Diluc? What are you... why are you here?"
You asked him, but he didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to you, steps quick, and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.
"D-diluc? What-!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, (Name)."
Suddenly understanding what this was about, you relaxed a bit, but didn't do anything else. You didn't reciprocate the hug, either, and no words left your lips..
"I'm so sorry.. for everything. I didn't even realize how badly I was treating you." He fell on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his, holding them tightly.
"Please, believe when I say that this was never my intention. I love you very dearly, (Name). I know I didn't show it for some time, but I do. Nothing can ever change how I feel about you. So please... don't leave.."
By the end of it, his voice sounded broken, silent cries leaving him as tears streamed down his face. You looked down on him, seeing him all broken down in front of you, and you feel your resolve begin to waver.
Maybe.. maybe you could try again with him..
But then you remembered the last few months, how he pushed you away every single time you tried to adress something with him... how he pushed you away on your own birhtday...
Gently, you pull your hands out of his grip. Diluc immediately understood what this gesture meant, yet he wasn't willing to accept this.
"(Name), please-!"
"No, Diluc. I can't anymore. Who's to tell me that you won't go back to treating me like this after a few weeks again? I tried it. I tried to deal with it and I tried to talk to you, but you never wanted to. You always shut me down. Well, I hope you're happy because I am done. I can't keep feeling like I'm worth nothing to you.
Thank you, for all the time I had with you, but it's over now."
You gave him one last, mournful look, then grabbed your bag and walked past him.
He let you... there was nothing else he could do..
He listened to you walking down the stairs, listened to the heavy front door open, and then.. It feel closed again.
And just like that.. you were out of his life..
He lost you and this time, he had noone else to blame but himself and his own stupid decisions..
He broke down again, crying so hard like he hadn't done in years. If only he wouldn't have been so stupid..
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Kaeya
Tired and still angry from the events that had happened yesterday, Kaeya was sitting in his office again, stationed at the Knights of Favonius headquarters.
He was looking through files and documents he didn't get to finish yesterday because he suddenly had the workload of four other people pushed onto him.
He was still angrily mumbling to himself when a knock on the door resonated within his office. He didn't bother giving an answer, yet the other person took that as permission to enter, pushing the door open to reveal Lisa to the stressed out Kavalry captain.
"Kaeya, there you are! We were missing you at (Name's) party yesterday. Why weren't you there?"
Oh, now that pissed him off even more. He put his utensiles down, trying to control his emotions and actions. He looked at Lisa, smiling at her, yet it was obvious how faked and forced it was.
"Well, I think the bigger question here is, why were you at a party during work hours in the first place. I wouldn't mind you going, but why convince everyone else along, leaving all of the work for me alone to handle?"
"..Why wouldn't I go to the party I, myself, organized?", she questioned, looking at him confused. Like she was trying to figure something out.
"You were organizing that atrocious thing? Well, in that case that begs even more questions. Again, why pull everyone else along except me? Also, why plan it in my and (name's) shared house, of all places?"
She didn't answer immediately like the times before. Instead, she was still looking at Kaeya, until a few seconds later, her entire face lit up in realization.
"Oh, you idiot..", she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Excuse me? I do think it's not-!"
"Kaeya, you idiot! You really forgot?"
"...Forgot what?", he asked, now being confused himself. Why was she reacting this way?
"You really did... it was their birthday yesterday! That's what the party was for! Also, wasn't this whole thing your idea in the first place?"
At her words, his eyes widened in shock, realization hitting him now as well. He did.. He forgot your birthday.
Immediately after that, he thought back to yesterday.. the words he spat in your mouth.. the way your eyes teared up in front of him.. and he just ignored it, walked away like the entire world just revolved around him alone..
He took one look at Lisa, who was just nodding at him. He did so as well, grabbing his coat and then he started running.
Kaeya ran out the headquarters through the streets of Mondstadt, only having one destination in mind. He never slowed down, not even for a second to catch his breath. Only when he was finally standing in front of his own door did he do so as he was trying to fish the keys out of his pocket.
He unlocked the door and immediately entered.
"(Name)?", he shouted as soon as he closed the door behind him. He listened for a few seconds, but... nothing. No answer, no sounds.
He panicked a bit as he began to search the place. The house was still a mess from yesterday, but he didn't care for that right now.
Kaeya searched through every room, shouting your name to try and grab your attention.
The panic began to settle a bit as he opened the bedroom door, seeing you still asleep on the bed.
He approached you, finding you clutching his own pillow close to you, like you have been searching for some comfort. Your eyes were all red and swollen up, because of your crying.
'The crying that you, yourself, caused..', he thought, feeling sorry for what he had said to you.
He went on his knees on the floor, next to the bed. He inspected your, now peaceful looking face, for a few more seconds.
"(Name), wake up, please.", he said gently, stroking some stray hair out of your face.
You began shifting in your sleep and soon enough, you opened your eyes.
Seeing Kaeya, you remember his hurtful words from yesterday night right away, so you were trying to create some space between the both of you.
"No, no!", he exclaimed, getting up from his knees and putting his arms around you, hugging you close to him.
"I am so sorry about yesterday, (name). I don't know how it could have possibly slipped my mind, but it did. Words can't describe how awful I feel about the things I said, but please know that I meant none of them.
I love you, and I'll do anything for you. You have every right to be angry with me and never forgive me for what I said and did, but.. please.."
After he finished, you stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to this. Then, you felt something wet against your shoulder. First it was only one time, then it got more and more and you knew that Kaeya was crying against your shoulder right now.
You then, finally, hugged him back.
He was so relieved that you did this, hoping that this meant one step into the right direction.
Maybe.. someday in the future, you can forgive Kaeya for this...
2K notes · View notes
soonyoungs · 2 months
Note
OH MY GOD HI!!! PLEASE THINK ABOUT THIS WITH ME BECAUSE I'M GOING CRAZY: https://x.com/kinulta/status/1758079004891119867?t=gqoiVpFsS-sWDhu2m910jw&s=19
this is SO woozi... he hasn't touched you properly for exactly 2 weeks and you are so so needy... so on a normal day at the studio you go to check it out if he is eating, he simply decides to take a break. he sits with you on the couch, talks a little, until kisses automatically appear. at first, small kisses with smiles on both sides, but everything goes wrong when he puts you on his lap. the pink mouth attacking yours and you can't hold back, letting out a soft moan between the contact. you want him SO MUCH, but you don't force him to do anything or demand anything from him, because you know how busy he is. HOWEVER, he surprises you when he takes out his own cell phone and starts recording a video. you find it strange, but then you understand the real function. he asks you to sit on the floor, so that the camera captures his pretty face well ☝🏻 and his only demand is that you stay quiet. nothing else. like a good girl you obey. you're still so turned on and you only realize how much when he has his fingers in you and his hand over your mouth, working to really keep you still. the little body that hasn't felt this for so many days is overloaded and that's why you cum faster than normal, letting a squeaky, sly noise leave your lips when the orgasm comes... and you think he'll probably finish and go back to work, but once again he surprises you by continuing to play with your sensitive clit and your intimacy, It's SO MUCH, your legs are shaking nonstop and you you can hear the wet noises throughout the studio. you know it’s too much but you still leave him there because you know he probably needed it more than you did and only after the fourth orgasm does he stop, you're exhausted and he hasn't used anything other than his fingers. your mind is blank and you desperately need a hug... he kisses your forehead and fixes your hair, saying that you are a good girl and obeyed him just as he asked. so he stops the recording and whether he'll fuck you afterwards or not... it's up to you, love
please please please please PLEASE
ఇ woozi and gn!reader (mentions of a clit and vagninal insertion!)
ఇ warnings: smut! not proofread! implied squirting maybe? as usually i do not know how to end things so abrupt ending :(
ఇ wc: 2,052
ఇ notes: baby you basically wrote this yourself!! i hope this is okay and im so sorry it’s taken me forever to get it out! ♡︎
weeks. it had been weeks since you last properly saw him, let alone touched him. it was becoming a problem, a very difficult and needy problem. however you had come to the conclusion that you can’t be too upset with him, as your job has kept you away from home just as much as his.
it wasn’t until you had a day off that you had reached your breaking point. you had to see him, today. sitting on your couch all day just waiting for the hours to tick by so you could catch a glimpse of your lover. it was around 7:00 pm when you had given in to your curiosities and decided to go see him yourself. 
throwing on a hoodie you grab your essentials and order a taxi. anxiety and anticipation rumble in your tummy, almost bubbling over, along the way. questions bouncing all over your brain. has he been eating? does he rest properly? as you continue thinking the worst your taxi pulls up beside an all too familiar building. you jump out, tip the driver and make your way upstairs, muscle memory taking over.
once you get to where you need to be you hesitantly knock on the door before opening it, briefly exposing his studio to the outside world. “hello,” you call out, softly, only to make your presence known “is anyone here?”
you can hear the sound of keys clacking as you move farther into the room. once you’ve made it far enough in you shyly clear your throat, trying to get his attention, again. this time he reacts to you, jumping slightly before turning his neck to see how has interrupted his brainstorming. “oh,” he exclaims “babe, what are you doing here?” he’s not able to hide his excitement as his smile grows wide on his face.
he moves over to you and embraces you tightly. “is this mine,” he asks tugging at the hem of the hoodie you’re wearing. you laugh and nod, mumbling something about how it smells like him and whatnot. the sound of your laugh gets his heart racing and has the tips of his ears burning red at record speed. he’s missed you, that much you can clearly tell.
you lean in to his touch, nuzzling your head into his neck, leaving small pecks. “missed you. missed you a lot, ji” you sigh, finally letting your body relax against his. he hums as he rubs your back. after standing in the middle of his studio for a solid five minutes, muttering “missed you”’s and “i love you”’s to one another, woozi takes your hand and leads you to the couch he has, off to the side, for late nights. 
once he’s sat on the cushions he pulls you down, onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you in place. he’s rocking you back and forth as you both catch up on the activities and work that’s kept you from each other. “it sucks,” you pout “hate that you’re so good at what you do. it keeps you away from home too much”. he knows you only mildly mean it, knows you’re just being needy and pouty so he lets it go.
you sigh and lean back in to him as he begins to rub soothing circles on your hips, before tapping his fingers to create a beat in his mind. you turn your head into his neck and leave small kisses there, trying to divert his attention away from work and back to you. “ji,” you voice comes out breathy, needy “missed you,” you say it again, batting your eyelashes at him, hoping he catches on this time. he laughs at your failed attempt at nonchalance before adjusting the both of you, so he can plant kisses on your face, your nose, your eyes, your ears, your neck, anywhere he’s able to reach.
woozi lifts your chin and leans in to give you a soft kiss on your lips. you sigh into the kiss, reaching up to run your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, gently massaging his scalp. after a few minutes of soft kisses and taking small breathers, woozi leans in to give you a deep, longing, kiss. catching you off guard, you let out a small moan and let your hips lift off of his lap a little, signaling that your neediness is almost to the point of uncontrollable. woozi smiles into the kiss and deepens it even further. “be good for me,” he nips at your bottom lip “okay, baby?”
you nod frantically, waiting for instruction. woozi moves you to his side, placing you on the couch directly. you begin to pout before realizing woozi has gotten up and placed his phone on the counter in front of you, making sure it’s able to capture the couch and anything that might happen there. he looks at you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. you nod before opening your mouth “yes, it’s okay, want it��. you weren’t quite sure what it was, but you’re hoping to find out soon.
woozi makes his way back to the couch, and you. sitting himself back in the spot he had vacated earlier, he motions for you to place yourself back on his lap. you quickly do as instructed. as you take your seat, you can feel the beginning of his excitement starting to grow. once nestled back in his lap you begin to move your hips slowly, looking back to see his reaction. woozi has his head tilted back, neck pressed against the head rest of the couch. he slowly lifts his head, bringing his hands to your hips to halt your movements. “said you’d be good, remember,” he questions, cocking an eyebrow. you let out a small “yes” before facing forward. “good baby,” he mutters, leaning forward to kiss your neck “now, i need you to be so quiet, okay”.  he’s bringing his hands down to the hem of the hoodie you’re wearing and dragging his fingers up the length of your thigh, all the way to your panties. your breath catches in your throat, it’s been weeks without his touch and the gentle way he’s handling you know is driving you insane. the slow pace that he’s going causes your frustrated hips to push up, wanting to force him into applying pressure, but he’s not ready for that yet.
removing his hand from your panties, woozi moves to remove your hoodie, leaving you only in your undies. the cool air in the studio creates chills all over your skin and you arch your back at the feeling. woozi puts his hand back where it had originally been, against your core. he can feel the heat through the thin fabric of you panties. “needy, huh” he asks, knowing damn well he was just as needy as you. “yes, ji” you confirm “i’m so needy for you. i’ve missed you so much, it’s been hell without you there to take care of me.”
woozi nods in agreement, it’s been hell for him without you too, but now’s not the time to discuss that. he pushes the center of your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through your warm slick. you sigh and throw your head back against his shoulder, reaching down to steady yourself against his wrist. “feel good,” he questions, lips pressed against the side of your head in a small kiss. you nod, letting out a whiny “uh-huh”. he continues to softly get his finger wet, teasing you along the way.
once he’s deemed his fingers wet enough he inserts two at once, scissoring them in order to give you a good stretch. you bite your lip, remembering your vow of silence. your breaths come out in heavy puffs as you try not to moan. he continues to stretch you for just a bit longer before he’s inserting another finger and moving at a slightly faster pace. his fingers hit deep inside you and do wonders to fill you to the brim. your chest is heaving at your nearing climax. woozi knows you’re close by the small squeaking noises you’re making. he moves his fingers faster, adjusting his wrist so his fingers hit the deepest part inside of you, knowing it drives you mad. your back is arching off of his chest as he catapults you into your orgasm. “so good baby,” he’s whispering “so hot, want you to cum just like this. cum all over my fingers baby,” and at his command you do such. your eyes roll back and your mouth is open in a silent scream as woozi continues to move his fingers inside of you, helping you to ride out your high. 
your body is so exhausted the it slumps against woozi, sliding down on to the ground in front of the couch. realizing he isn’t finished with you, woozi leans forward spreading your knees baring them to his phone, who’s camera is still recording. you bend your neck to look up at him. he leans down, giving you a kiss before reaching down to slide your panties off of you completely. once he’s removed the garment he places a finger against your core, teasing your clit. you groan and toss your head back, resting against his knee. “quiet baby,” he warns, placing his free hand over your mouth. the fingers on his other hand begin rubbing harsher circles against you. he continues alternating between gentle and harsh touches before he inserts them again. it doesn’t take much for you to be launched into your second and third consecutive orgasms. 
he removes his hand from your core and places his fingers in his mouth, tasting you. his other hand has moved from you mouth to your head, petting you softly as you pant. woozi removes his fingers from his mouth and holds your chin so he can make eye contact with you. “one more baby, okay,” he asks gently, knowing it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with one another. you lazily nod your head and lean your cheek against his thigh, turning every once and a while to leave a kiss or love bite.
woozi reaches down again, this time without restraint. he knows that if it’s going to be the last time you cum tonight he will make it the best. he’s moving his fingers at lightning speed, eliciting loud groans and whines from you. as he previously did before, he reaches his other hand up to your mouth, only this time pushing his two middle fingers in your mouth and down your throat. the fingers on your clit continue moving faster and harder throwing you to the brink of orgasm in seconds. your back is arched to a point that worries woozi, but be doesn’t dare stop. the wet, squelching sounds that are coming from you would normally embarrass you, but you feel like you’re experiencing everything out of body at the moment. tears and drool are running down your face as your pleasure reaches an almost fever pitch. woozi finally feels he needs to show you some mercy and pinches your clit in between his rubs.
your eyes cross one last time, as you are thrashing against woozi’s body. your thighs are shaking so violently you are certain you won’t be able to use them for days. a heat forms in your gut as you approach your climax and when it hits you see white, tossing your head back, the fingers in your mouth do little to muffle your screams and cries. woozi’s fingers continue to work at your core, gently swiping your clit every so often, making sure to rub the clear slick, pouring out of you, everywhere he can. 
once you’ve gotten through your high, woozi kisses your head, pets your sides and rocks you back and forth “you did so good,” he whispers in your ear. “i’m so proud of you, what a good baby,” he kisses your eyes and your nose before giving you a sweet kiss on the lips. you moan into the kiss and look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “ji,” you whimper, letting him know you’re not finished. “i know baby,” he smiles “i’m not done either,”
189 notes · View notes
bunnyreaper · 1 year
Text
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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 7.2k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥
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Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags. 
The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck. 
The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face. 
Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it. 
Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could. 
That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.
Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.
You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink. 
The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more. 
"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always. 
"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.
He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?" 
You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.
"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background. 
"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—" 
Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."
Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.
"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?" 
"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear. 
"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him. 
You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.
Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing." 
You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least. 
"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?" 
You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good." 
He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"
"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army? 
"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway. 
"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it. 
His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..." 
"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."
The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt.  "I'm glad you waited for me." 
"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again. 
"Night, Johnny." 
You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.
The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.
The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again. 
Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.
The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through. 
And when you do, the world stills.
You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach. 
In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close. 
He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together. 
The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right. 
"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.
"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible. "Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake. 
"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face. 
You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.
His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent. 
Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him. 
His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts. 
"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation. 
He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything. 
"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare. 
Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement. 
"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke. 
He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover. 
You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way. 
"We should move out of the way." 
"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now." 
His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.
"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires. 
This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone. 
Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both. 
"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.
"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time." 
You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart. 
"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking." 
Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours. 
"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think. 
You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then." 
The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.  
As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand." 
"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?" 
"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.
"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.
His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.
"Oh, will a now?" 
"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?" 
"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching. 
"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that? 
And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to. 
His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff." 
If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous." 
"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous. 
You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally. 
"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second. 
"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.
"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation  "We'll come again, make them jealous right back." 
You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.
"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though." 
Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one." 
His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry." 
The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.
"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture. 
After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile. 
You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day. 
When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body. 
It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.
You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts. 
Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.
"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny. 
You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most. 
"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.
Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version." 
"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?" 
Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.
"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."
You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on." 
You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away. 
"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return. 
You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army." 
"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair. 
"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking. 
"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments. 
Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.  
Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."  
"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.
The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration. 
"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.
"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly. 
Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.
"I think he likes you too." 
Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."
"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic? 
Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?" 
"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."
Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss. 
They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.
He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet." 
"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny. 
He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."
You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.
"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now." 
"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it. 
You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything." 
He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?" 
"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!" 
You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.
"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained. 
The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do. 
His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.
"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge." 
Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium. 
"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down." 
His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.
Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed. 
"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.
You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.
Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument. 
You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid." 
He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous." 
You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.
Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."
"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?" 
You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.
"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest. 
Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget." 
You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'" 
"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either. 
"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it. 
You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.
"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture. 
"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you." 
"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?" 
"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together. 
You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then." 
"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently. 
You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?" 
His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench. 
"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response. 
"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?" 
"Yeah..." 
He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.
"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city. 
The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things. 
"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?" 
"Last train is at 9." 
You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough." 
"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it. 
"Not if you're sick of me first."
The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.
The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main. 
Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other. 
"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though. 
"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.
You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?" 
Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.
"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.
Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice. 
"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.
Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.
His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth. 
"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."  
"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself. 
The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask." 
"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.
The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask. 
"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you. 
All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?" 
"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one. 
"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath. 
Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"
"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building." 
"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip. 
"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows." 
"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again. 
You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real. 
"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say. 
"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?" 
The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry." 
"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future. 
"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.
"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect. 
You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.
When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford. 
The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.
"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman. 
You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking." 
He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound. 
You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber." 
His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?" 
You nod. "I swear, I will." 
You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him. 
That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his. 
"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly. 
"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.
"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips. 
You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea." 
"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?" 
"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately. 
"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."
"Please." 
Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him. 
The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other. 
Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ." 
You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency." 
"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?" 
You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him. 
"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?" 
"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry." 
"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.
Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side. 
"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate. 
"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier. 
On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train. 
You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again. 
You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you. 
Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3
765 notes · View notes
the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months
Text
right where you left me | ksy & jww
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(where you're in an open relationship with soonyoung, who doesn't want to come on your family christmas vacation. it's okay. you run into your ex at the resort anyway.)
pairing: soonyoung (hoshi) x f.reader, ex!wonwoo x f.reader genre: est. relationships, exes to lovers to ??, love triangles | smut, angst??, fluff word count: ~8.6k (yeah, idk either) warnings: open relationship (implied, not explicitly discussed), wonwoo and soonyoung both know about each other (but never actually interact), reader goes away with family for the holidays, mentions of christmas (including christmas dinner), mentions of drinking, soonyoung is soft for reader, wonwoo just wants a second chance, one (1) holy spirit joke, reader does make a choice at the end, smut warnings under the cut
a/n: this is for the amazing and wonderful @beomcoups from your secret santa, blitzen, for @kpopsecretsanta 💕 summer, i already knew you were actually the best. so, it's been really fun getting to send you asks and come up with something for you. i hope you like it (and i'm so sorry it got this long). this is honestly not where i meant for this to go. ily and merry (belated) christmas! thank you to @wooahaeproductions (once again) for giving me a title and to my bby @wongyuseokie for the beautiful banner so last minute.
a/n 2: i'm for real taking a writing break now because december has been busy 😂
tagging: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @horanghater
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smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, lots of kissing, so many orgasms, so much cum (i'm sorry), dirty talk, spit as lube (just for handjobs), handjobs, blowjobs, implied edging, vaginal fingering, protected sex (yay!), implied/referenced phone sex, kind of dom!wonwoo, kind of switch!reader, wonwoo is bossy, oral sex (f. receiving), begging, slight hair pulling, slight nipple play, choking, unprotected sex (don't do this), fucking from behind, pulling out, cum on the back/ass, referenced marking, referenced restraints, pet names (doll, sweetheart, babydoll, baby), probably teasing somewhere, i think that's it (i swear there's plot in there too)
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“Are you all packed?” 
Soonyoung is stretched out on your bed, watching you search through your closet. You sigh when you can’t find the one sweater you’re looking for.
“Almost,” you say. 
“It’s on the drying rack in your spare bedroom,” he says. 
You spin around to look at him, eyebrow raised. “What?”
“That sweater you love? The one you pull out the second it’s cool enough?” Soonyoung prompts. 
You give him a look, but don’t say anything. Instead, you walk into the other room and find he’s right. The last thing you want to throw into your suitcase is actually exactly where he said. You check that it’s dry before retrieving it to fold and tuck away. 
“How?” you ask when you reenter the room. 
He just shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I know you pretty well.”
That tugs at your heartstrings a little, especially this time of year. Because it’s true. Hardly anyone knows you as well as the beautiful man sprawled on your bed, scrolling through his phone. Yet, he’s also the one that seems to hurt you the most. Always exactly where you need him to be, but never quite within reach. This kind, wonderful human that surprises you with things that remind him of you, but can’t (or won’t) come with you for the holidays to a beautiful, snow-covered resort. It’s not worth bringing up again…
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” you ask.
…but you do anyway. Like the sucker for pain you are. Like somehow the answer is going to change from the last time you asked.
This does make him look up, at least. It’s hard to see the look he gives you. It’s a little comforting that he does look sorry. Not quite enough to ease the ache in your heart. That’s neither here nor there, though.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he answers. 
“I know,” you sigh. 
And you do know. Your relationship with Soonyoung happened out of nowhere. When you were trying desperately to heal over the worst heartbreak you could imagine and he happened to be there. Maybe that’s why you feel this inexplicable draw to him, even now. Because he was the one to help you put the pieces back together, the one to let you know that you weren’t asking for something unreasonable from your ex, that it was okay to make whatever type of life you wanted for yourself. Over time, you felt yourself getting more attached and let it happen, even knowing it was the wrong choice. Not because Soonyoung is wrong or anything short of great. It’s just, well, he’s always been honest, sometimes painfully so, about exactly who he is and what he wants. He’s just not sure, at least right now, that a closed relationship where he meets the parents is what he wants. 
An open relationship hadn’t been something you considered. It still wasn’t a consideration when you first started sleeping with Soonyoung. It wasn’t until you realized you wanted more of him that you had to have the conversation. Which is how you’re here, now. Going to see your parents and the rest of your family for a beautiful vacation alone despite being in a relationship. Despite him having met some of your family, like your cousins, and the number of dates you go on. Sometimes it really is enough. Not because you’re telling yourself it is. It just is. He comes up with the most thoughtful dates. Surprises you with little things just because. He’s so insanely thoughtful. So, maybe it’s enough that he doesn’t want to come meet your parents.
“Come here,” he requests, opening his arms for you. 
You sigh before giving in and snuggling into him on the bed. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head first, then your temple. You settle against his chest, timing your own breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. There’s something so comforting about lying like this. Something that makes it easier to be honest when you’re not looking into his incredibly soft eyes.
“I do get it, Soonie,” you repeat softly. “This makes sense for us and I don’t want that to change. I don’t need my parents getting involved.”
“Maybe next year,” he says and that pulls you up short. He’s never said that before. You can’t really help it, you pull away to look into his eyes. “I like being around you and neither of us has been seeing many other people lately. So maybe it’s something we can talk about in the new year.” 
“I don’t want it to be anything that you feel…” you start and he presses a kiss to your lips.
“I don’t,” he assures you. “And you’re still free to do whatever you want, obviously. I don’t even know what it might look like. Just, I don’t know, I figure maybe after the holidays we can figure out if anything changes here.” 
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you agree. 
“But for today…” he says, drifting off as his eyes roam over your body.
“You’re exhausting,” you complain.
“You tried on Christmas dresses in front of me! I’ve been here suffering thinking that I won’t get to slide that material off your soft skin,” he says and kisses your shoulder. “Sitting here neglected as I watched you pack away skirts and those pants that make your ass look amazing.” 
“You’re not neglected,” you tease as he presses a long kiss to your neck. 
“I’m wasting away from the lack of attention,” he whines.
“Hm, is that right?” you ask. 
“It is,” he concludes. 
“Well, we can’t have that,” you say low, running your hand down his stomach. 
“Don’t you have to leave soon?” he asks, stuttering when your hand runs over his cock through his pants. You rub him ever so gently, delighting in the way he reacts.
“I can stop if you want,” you suggest. 
“You know I don’t want you to, but…” he starts and trails off when you move your hand towards his waistband.
“I’m driving, Soon, I can be a little late. I’ll just blame traffic,” you say.
“Fuck it,” he curses. 
You drag his pants and briefs down in one motion, freeing his cock. You remember the first time you fucked him, when he was nervous that you were going to be somehow disappointed. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only is he the perfect size, but he has a way of moving his hips while fucking you that’s always drives you crazy.
There isn’t time for you to be walking down memory lane, though. You spit into your hand so that you can start stroking him, delight in how he’s already a little hard. Maybe he wasn’t lying about the torture of watching you try on clothes. After all, you did catch him adjusting on the bed a time or two. It’s not enough for you, just stroking him and listening to all the beautiful sounds that he makes. Before he even realizes what’s happening, you’re taking him into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the tip and carefully massaging his balls with your free hand. You hollow your cheeks when you take as much of him into your mouth as you can. Carefully sucking while you bob your head on his cock, running a hand up and down the base as you continue to work on him. 
“Fuck, that mouth is so good,” he whines. “Oh my god! Ugh, yes!” 
One of the things you like about Soonyoung is times like this, where he doesn’t need to be in control. Where he just lets you take care of him. Lets you make him feel good. Just completely turns to putty in your hands. He’s muttering obscenities about how much he loves your mouth, how you know just what to do, how you’re cruel for bringing him to the edge and then backing off. You may not have enough time, but you also can’t really stop yourself. 
“You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” Soonyoung warns. 
You pull up off him just for a second to fix him with a look. “Kinda the point, isn’t it?” 
“Not if it means I don’t get to fuck you,” he answers and pulls off his shirt. 
Okay, you can take the hint. You quickly strip off all your clothes and move up to lie on your side facing him. He captures your lips in a kiss and quickly puts a hand between your legs. No time to waste. He runs his fingers along your entrance, collecting the wetness there and groaning, probably at how you’re wet just from blowing him. When he slides a finger inside your cunt, you want to pull away from the kiss. Instead, you just moan into his mouth, spurring him to pump his finger into you faster. Another moan and he presses a second finger in. 
When you first started fucking Soonyoung, you were a little embarrased about several things when it came to sex. One had been how wet you get. He had been so quick with the praise, so quick to assure you that it was a good thing, so quick to make you comfortable. Now, you barely even think about it. Everything with him is effortless, comfortable. It’s entirely too fast when you feel like you’re already starting to come undone. 
“God, I love watching that pussy suck my fingers in,” he says. “So good for me, so greedy.”
“Fuck, Soon, hang on,” you pant out.
“Feeling good?” he asks.
“Yeah but you’re gonna make me come,” you whine. 
“Isn’t that the point?” he parrots back.
“Thought you wanted to fuck me,” you remind him.
He removes his fingers from your cunt entirely too quickly so he can roll over to reach the drawer. With surprising speed, he pulls a condom out and has it on in a matter of seconds. You’re about to ask how he wants you when he rolls back over and hikes one of your legs up. This is a new position for the two of you, surprising with how many you’ve tried. There’s something a little intimate, facing each other like this with your leg up over his arm. His brows furrow a little as he lines himself up. 
“Oh god,” you moan out when he presses all the way in, right off the bat. Even with the prepping, it’s more of a stretch than you were expecting so fast.
“You okay?” he asks. Even though he wants it to be fast, he’s still so considerate.
“Yes, just fucking move, please,” you whine.
“So needy,” he says, but he still moves. 
It’s fast and a little desperate and the angle has him hitting you just where you want him. It doesn’t feel awkward in this position, either, which crossed your mind for a second. You’re clinging to any part of him that you can, moaning incoherently, about to come undone in a stupidly short time. But, he’s babbling too, uttering praises for how good he feels, reminding you how amazing you are. He’s so vocal and it’s what sends you over the edge. He follows right behind you.
You lay on your back and take a few moments to catch your breath. Watch him as he gets up to dispose of the condom. Smile when he comes back and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’s so pretty like this, glowing and smiley and perfectly content. So are you, apparently, as he tells you constantly.
“You have to go because I have to shower and I don’t want to have to shower again after that,” you say when you get up.
“But, what if I want round two?” he asks, drawing you in against his body. 
You lean your head to press a kiss to his lips and carefully pull away. “Then, you’ll just have to wait til I’m back.”
“Thought you didn’t mind being late,” he presses.
“A little late,” you say and laugh at the pout. “You’re cute, Soonie, but I still have to go.”
“Fine,” he sighs. “You’ll be back before New Year’s?”
“Yeah, for the party,” you confirm. 
“I’ll miss you,” he whispers into your hair. The kiss he presses to the top of your head nearly has your knees weak. Instead, you just smile as he leaves and rush off to the shower before you get in the car. 
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The resort your parents picked this year for the holidays is beautiful. There’s a main resort and also a bunch of smaller buildings with rooms that are more like condos. Your parents are staying in a particularly roomy one, because they love to host, so you don’t feel too stuck by staying with them. It’s also nice because the resort is attached to a ski lodge. You can actually ski straight from the rooms onto one of the trails. It’s all beautiful and you feel incredibly at peace. 
(You also appreciate how there are plenty of things to do for people that don’t like to ski or snowboard. Not that you don’t, you’re just sometimes a little worried you’ll fall.)
The first night was just for relaxing after the ride up. The four hour drive ended up going a lot faster with your cousin in the passenger seat, thankful you hadn’t actually left yet because her car broke down. Even though you don’t live far apart, you feel like you don’t see her nearly often enough. So the car ride is a nice way to catch up. 
Now that it’s the first full day, you’re ready to explore a little bit. Your parents mentioned a little cafe in the lodge that sounds like the perfect place to get a cup of coffee. Of course, you could make it in the room, but it probably wouldn’t taste as good. Bundled up, you head down to the lodge and look out for the cafe. It ends up being pretty easy to find. And it’s not the only thing. 
It’s like a pull that you can’t explain, the way your eyes fall on someone sitting in an armchair just to the side of the cafe. His dark hair has that slightly tousled look, probably from being outside, and his glasses keep sliding down his nose. As you watch, he absently pushes them back up, eyes glued on the book in his lap. There is no world where it makes sense that he’s here and also no world where he could be anyone else. You’re debating whether or not to approach him when he looks up. The smile he sends your way has you feeling things that you know you shouldn’t. 
Your feet carry you towards him without permission and he rises to meet you part way. “Hey, what are you…” 
At the same time, he starts to say, “wow, small world.”
It’s a little awkward (read: a lot) and neither of you really know what to say. It’s been two years since you last saw each other, two years since you last spoke, two years since the break up that nearly tore you apart. Even though it’s been long enough that you feel better about it, it’s still awkward. He probably feels it too, the uncertainty of running into each other someplace so unexpected. The question of how to move forward. 
“So, um, this is…” Wonwoo starts.
“Awkward? Weird? Unexpected?” you offer through a forced laugh.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“My family is here for Christmas,” you answer. “Yours too?” 
“Yeah,” he says. 
“Right,” you say. “Well, I was just going to get…”
“Can we talk? Maybe over lunch or something?” he asks just as you’re ready to turn around. 
You’re rooted to the spot, unable to answer him right away. Can you? Yes, you definitely have that capability. Should you? That’s a bit harder to answer. Your brain is full of images of your past relationship - the good, the bad, the ugly - and your current situation. Maybe Wonwoo still does know you, at least well enough to read your face, because he speaks up again.
“Never mind, that was silly to ask,” he says.
“No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just, I don’t know, a little overwhelmed, I guess,” you admit.
“Me too, if it helps,” he says. 
You look down at your watch. It’s a little earlier than you usually eat lunch, but maybe that’ll be a good thing. “Do you wanna get something now?”
“What about your coffee?” Wonwoo asks.
“I’m sure the restaurant has some,” you say before you lose the courage. 
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Lunch is actually surprisingly easy. Well, after you get some of the awkwardness out of the way. But, it gives you a chance to say a lot of things you both kept to yourselves. Back when you were dating Wonwoo, it got harder until it was too much. He was always soft spoken, always afraid to burden anyone else with his problems. Even when you reminded him that’s what partners were for, he just kept most of it to himself. Which wasn’t healthy for either of you. You wanted things out in the open so you could talk about them, he kept them to himself. Something tiny could fester into something much bigger and then become a real issue. Even when it came to issues at work or with other friends, he was hesitant to mention it. By not wanting to be a burden, he ended up driving a massive wedge between you. And he’s able to share things with you, too. Like how it wasn’t always easy to want to share when he felt pressured. He knows you only cared, but sometimes he wasn’t ready. Sometimes he couldn’t talk about it in the moment and just needed a day to process. Something he knows that he should have shared with you, as well. 
It turns into a much longer meal than either of you expect. After talking about your relationship, you fill in the last two years. He talks about work and friends and reluctantly admits that he hasn’t dated anyone seriously since you. When it’s your turn, you stumble over explaining Soonyoung, ending up opting for full transparency. If he’s surprised, he hides it well. Seems to understand that trying something a little different can be exactly what you need. When you finally check your phone to see you’re running late to meet your cousins, you say goodbye with a promise to hang out again. And an assurance that you haven’t changed your number and he isn’t blocked. 
You spend most of the afternoon playing games with your cousins and sharing what you’ve been up to. The cousin that rode with you, and knows Wonwoo the best, is nearly on the floor when you tell her that he’s here somehow. Especially because she also knows Soonyoung and likes him, but thinks he’s not the long term plan for you. She’s a little surprised, given how much you smiled about seeing Wonwoo, at how fiercely you defend Soonyoung. It’s just, well, he’s been a lot for you in so many ways. Yes, some of it has been painful and some of it has involved learning things you’re not sure you needed to. But, it’s also been safe and protected. It’s allowed you to grow in ways you never expected. 
An afternoon of gaming turns into a night of dinner in the suite, more games, and drinking. Your cousin takes your phone and texts Wonwoo from it. Invites him over to the room to pick you up. Of course, she doesn’t tell you any of that. But, when you answer the door and see your ex on the other side, he suggests you check your phone. You shoot your cousin a look and grab your coat. He’s here, so you might as well go with him. When he holds out his hand for you, you take it and follow him into the night. 
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The next days pass in a kind of haze. It’s so pretty to be at the resort, watching the way snow seems to fall more often than not, even if it’s just a light flurry for 20 minutes. There’s a beautiful, tucked away corner of the lodge where you can sit in rocking chairs by floor to ceiling windows. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch the snow, or watch people coming down trails, watch anything. You’re with Wonwoo more than your own family, a fact that nobody seems to talk about. Maybe because everyone liked Wonwoo and nobody really understood why it ended. You hadn’t wanted to talk about it. And now it doesn’t seem to matter. The man before you isn’t the same boy that you walked away from two years ago. You’re not the same either. Both of you get a lot of time nestled away in the cocoon of the holiday vacation to talk about that. To talk about who you are now and where you want to be. About if things would turn out differently now.
It’s all kind of a practiced dance, though, because Wonwoo knows that Soonyoung exists. He knows that there’s someone you’re not really ready to let go that may be waiting for you to get back to have an important conversation. (He is waiting for you, but you don’t tell Wonwoo that. Because it may not be in the way you wish he was waiting for you. What you do know is that he’s been sending you a lot of messages. There are a lot of things that seem to remind him of you. So, he’s constantly on your mind.) And there are some things that haven’t changed about Wonwoo, too. One of those things is that he doesn’t really find the idea of sharing a partner appealing. Even though he’s one of the most secure people you know, you can also tell what he thinks about the complication of your current situation. There’s no judgment, only more hurdles. It’s like he wants you to consider giving him another shot, but he doesn’t really know where to start. 
Since Christmas Eve and Christmas morning are for family, you get a much needed break from having Wonwoo around constantly. Not that you mind, it’s just that your head needs a little space. You need to figure out what exactly you want. Which isn’t really any easier when you’re separated from your ex, sadly. Both he and Soonyoung are still fighting for space. Your thoughts are kind of a jumbled mess. 
(It doesn’t help that Soonyoung calls you on Christmas Eve. Or that the call turns into FaceTime and that turns into the two of you getting off. Phone sex wasn’t ever really something you were into before him. You didn’t really get the appeal of it. But, you’ve seen the positives of it with him. Still can’t really believe how easy it is for him to push you over the edge when he’s not even with you. And you kind of like knowing you do the same to him, seeing his cum paint his stomach after he finishes. He gets a little sappy after he comes, too. When you’re both cleaned up, he’s still there. Telling you that he misses you and that the city feels a little lonely without you there. It’s not like you haven’t left before, but this just feels different to him. He says it all without seeming to think much about it and you’re not really sure how to take it. Is it honest? Or is it the post orgasm haze?) 
But, after Christmas dinner, you’re on your own to do whatever you want. And you know what you don’t need to do. You know that you don’t need to make this whole mess inside your head more complicated than it already is. You do really miss Soonyoung and all his energy. There’s something infectious about him. But, you also know that he’s been very clear on his wants and needs, even if he says you need to talk when you’re back about what’s going on. Then, there’s all your returning feelings for Wonwoo after all the time you’ve spent with him the past several days. Soonyoung seemed to skate over you mentioning running into your ex like it didn’t matter. Or that he trusts you and that the relationship is open, which is the more likely answer. All of that leads to sitting on the couch of Wonwoo’s suite, sipping a glass of wine. 
“What’s going on here?” you ask, interrupting the formerly comfortable silence. 
“We’re drinking wine on Christmas?” Wonwoo suggests.
You turn your head to look at him and find he’s a little confused. “I don’t mean that. I mean,” you gesture between the two of you, “here.” 
“Ah,” Wonwoo says and takes a sip. 
“Yeah,” you say.
“I don’t know, honestly. I know I missed you and that I feel like things are different now. I think we could have actually worked through our issues if we were these people,” Wonwoo says.
“But?” you prompt. Because there’s so clearly a but coming to what he said.
“You’re in a relationship,” he finishes. 
“An open one,” you remind him.
“That you’re not really sure how to define,” he presses back.
“We aren’t even sure if we’d work together again and you’re already worried about what’s going on with Soonyoung,” you sigh. 
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“We’ve got history and it’s been so nice to be around you. But, if we were to try something out again, we’re not just going to jump back into it being serious right away,” you tell him.
“No, I wouldn’t expect it to,” Wonwoo agrees. 
“So does it really matter if I’m seeing someone else? Does anyone outside of us really matter while we’re figuring things out?” you ask.
This is a definite crossroads for Wonwoo. He’s always been very logical and impossibly smart. In all the time you knew him, he was one to weigh things out and go with what made the most sense. It wasn’t like him to be overly emotional about things. Except, apparently, when it came to you. So, this is a big ask. For him to just set aside personal feelings for you and consider the logic behind what you’re saying. It’s a crossroads for you, too. Because you do know it makes sense to consider exploring whatever’s been happening between the two of you. To not have any what-ifs or questions when you go back to the city. To actually explore another genuine connection so you can better understand what you do or don’t feel for Soonyoung.
Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Focusing on this and figuring it out doesn’t involve anyone else but us.”
“So that last little line of defense stops now?” you ask, hopeful.
“Last line of defense?” he asks. 
You gesture at the space between you. “Ever since I ran into you, there’s always space for the Holy Spirit between us.” 
Both of you laugh at that when Wonwoo’s face cracks into a smile. It erases the last little bit of tension left between the two of you. It’s clear that he means he’s going to give it a real shot to figure out what’s going on without worrying about anyone else. Wonwoo shifts closer to you, rests his arm on the back of the couch behind you, and presses his thigh into yours. 
“Do you still think there’s space for the Holy Spirit?” he asks. 
“No,” you say with a light laugh. 
“I’ve missed you, doll,” he admits and presses a kiss against your temple. 
“I’ve missed you, too,” you say. You turn your body so your back is against the arm of the couch and drape your legs over his lap. It’s a little more comfortable and it lets you look at him easier. 
“It’s so weird to me, running into you here,” he says and you laugh.
“I’d say it’s some kind of fate, but I know you don’t believe in that kinda shit,” you offer.
“I don’t know that I do, but having you around has given me a break from my family,” he shares. 
“Your family is great,” you disagree. 
“They are, but it’s a lot of people time,” he says with a sigh.
Which is why you suggest that you just sit back and watch a movie, something a little scary because you know that’s what he prefers. It doesn’t have to be some Christmas movie, you’ve gotten enough of that with your cousins in the lead up to the holiday. So, you let him pick something and settle back, appreciating the closeness. 
The movie is good, but you’re kind of a fidgeter. You make it through the first half easily, but in the second half, you start getting a little sick of sitting still. Just little things. Adjusting how you’re sitting. Moving your legs slightly. Reaching out for one of Wonwoo’s hands. Something to trick your body into thinking it’s moving. Until it’s a little more than just a movement. Without even thinking, you pull one of your legs towards you, let your knee bend for a second, because it’s a little stiff, and slide it back. It isn’t until Wonwoo sucks in a breath and clenches his jaw that you realize your foot slid right over his dick. 
“Wonwoo, I’m sorry, I didn’t - “ you start, but he’s moving your legs.
“Let’s go,” he says as he stands up.
“What?” you ask. “Go where?” 
“Come on, sweetheart, I’m not gonna play these fucking games,” he says and pulls you up off the couch. 
You’re really caught off guard, because it had been an accident, but your body remembers this. He’s guiding you in front of him to one of the bedrooms and pressing you inside. As soon as you’re both through, he closes and locks the door. Then, he presses you back into it and kisses you hard. Crowds your space so you can’t move an inch. You gasp when he nips at your lip. This has always been the thing about Wonwoo. He’s so quiet and soft spoken and unassuming around everyone else. Just the smart boy who likes to read and play video games. Until he gets you behind closed doors and a switch flips. 
“Fuck, Nu, I swear it was an accident,” you groan as he kisses down your neck.
“So, you don’t wanna get fucked into the mattress? Don’t want me to show you I still know exactly what you like?” he asks.
You’re not the same person you were two years ago, though. “Maybe I like different things now.” 
“We’ll see about that,” he says. 
Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again. Hard and needy and like there isn’t a tomorrow. Maybe there isn’t for the two of you. It’s not like you’ve managed to clear anything up. 
Wonwoo presses his hips into you. Places his hands on either side of your head against the door behind you. It’s so easy to fall into old patterns with him, where you give up your control. Your hands run along his back, underneath his shirt, and he shivers at the touch. It makes him thrust his hips into you again. It makes him grab your hands and pin them in one of his above your head. His lips are demanding when they return to yours, like he’s taking what you owe him. 
There’s no point in begging for more. It would only make him go slower. So, you accept his tongue into your mouth when he keeps kissing you. You let your hands stay pinned above your head. You even chase his lips when he pulls away. It’s hard to suppress the shudder when his lips brush against your ear. 
“I want to fuck you,” he whispers. “I want to press your pretty face into the mattress and get your ass in the air. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” you whimper out. 
Wonwoo pulls away from you and starts to undress. It’s hard to take your eyes off of him because he’s so beautiful. The broadness of his shoulder and his slender waist. The muscles that he hides behind all the layers flex as he pulls off his shirt and steps out of his pants. But, then he’s looking at you expectantly. Likely wondering why you’re fully dressed. You make quick work of getting out of your clothing before turning back to him. 
“Sit on the edge of the bed, babydoll,” he instructs. You hasten to listen to what he asks and he smiles. Not a soft smile. “Open your legs.” 
You do that as well. With your hands on the bed behind you, you lean backwards. Wonwoo kneels down between your legs and runs a hand up your calf. He nips softly at your thighs, sharp enough to make you gasp but not hard enough to leave a mark. As he moves to your other thigh, he spreads your legs further. Only places a light kiss on your other thigh before his hand returns to your pussy. His fingers spread you open and he blows gently. The sensation makes you shiver. It makes you want to beg for him. Instead, you just grip the sheets tighter. Wonwoo chuckles, probably at your attempt to hold back, and licks a stripe up your center. Flattens his tongue against you and runs it slowly through your folds. 
“Oh god,” you moan. You don’t need to look down to see that it makes Wonwoo smile, but you do anyway.
He continues to work you with his tongue, alternating the pace so that you never really know what to expect. His thumb rubs circles over your clit. Maybe he does still know how to get you going. Or maybe your body just remembers him. Either way, he feels so good. You’re entirely more pent up than you feel like you should be. It would be embarrassing if it was with someone you weren’t comfortable with. 
“Fuck, please, baby, I need your fingers,” you beg. 
“You getting close?” he asks.
“Yes, fuck, please,” you cry out.
“Do you think you deserve to come?” he asks. It’s only his thumb on your clit that keeps you going.
“Please,” you beg and hope it’s enough.
It must work because his tongue returns to your cunt and he slides one of his perfect fingers inside as well. The second is in before you realize it and your moans are more sounds than anything intelligible. It’s an unsurprisingly short time before you make a mess of his face and fingers. After he guides you through your orgasm, he stands up and leans over you. Pulls you in for a kiss so that you can taste yourself on his lips. It’s enough to make you a little dizzy. Entirely too soon, he’s breaking the kiss. He runs his hand over his dick and looks at you.
“Spit in your hand,” he directs and you do it without thinking. The post-orgasm haze still has hold of you. 
You don’t need him to tell you what to do next. Before he can say anything, you take over and run your hand down his shaft. Slide your thumb carefully over his tip. Wonwoo clenches his jaw like he’s trying not to let you know just how good it feels. Because you still know him too. You continue to stroke him and take his cock into your mouth. Just the tip, at first. When you look up at him under your lashes, you know that he’s going to lose the battle. 
“Fuck, babydoll, that mouth is better than I remember,” he groans out. His hands wind into your hair, but he doesn’t fuck into your face. You’re a little surprised he can hold back. Especially when you swirl your tongue around his tip. “Okay enough of this.”
Wonwoo, with surprising gentleness, pulls you off of his dick. You have just enough time to look at him triumphantly before he’s moving you back into the bed. He gets you on your hands and knees, presses your back down so that your ass is in the air and your face presses into the pillow in front of you. You arch your back deeper so that he has the best angle. The bed shifts under you and you assume that he’s lining up behind you. He presses a finger into your pussy again and you squirm for a second. When he removes it, you want to complain. But, he’s quick to line himself up and press his cock into you. The pillow muffles your moan as he presses all the way in. His hands find purchase on your hips as he sets a slow rhythm. 
It doesn’t seem like it’s enough, though. His hand finds it’s way into your hair and he pulls back, more gently than he used to. “Is this still okay?” 
His voice is hoarse in your ear. “Fuck, Nu, yes. Be rough with me.” 
It’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides up your body to take your nipple between too skilled fingers. The first twist has you screaming out for him, wanting him to continue. And he does, all while picking up the pace that he fucks into you. He keeps you pressed against his chest. The snap of his hips and the skin slapping together isn’t enough to cover your stream of profanities. Wonwoo places a hand lightly over your throat, using it to anchor you to him. Your loud moan and reassurance of permission makes him squeeze a little tighter. It’s that perfect sensory deprivation to make it all the more intense. Between that and your earlier orgasm, you’re a bit on overload. It’s a kind of mind blankness that you haven’t felt in awhile. Nothing else exists but the pursuit of pleasure. Your mind is totally empty.
Eventually, his movements start to stutter and he releases your throat. Directs you to rub your clit. You hardly need to touch yourself before you feel your second orgasm rip through you, coming all over his dick. He snaps a few more times before pulling out of you. His cum paints over your ass and your back. Wonwoo collapses next to you and you lower yourself down onto your stomach, trying not to make too much of a mess. 
After a moment, Wonwoo presses a kiss to your shoulder. “What do you, babydoll, do I still know you?” 
“It’s like nothing ever changes,” you admit. 
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The two days after Christmas seem to pass just as quickly as the days before Christmas. Something feels like it’s shifted with you and Wonwoo, but maybe not in the way you expect. You’re still spending a decent amount of time with him, still being pretty affectionate, but you don’t end up naked in his bed again. It could just be you, though it feels like a joint decision. It feels like it’s some unspoken agreement. 
Everything with Wonwoo has been amazing, like a little break from reality. It’s been so nice to get to see him again, to get to talk about your relationship and everything it meant. Even though you’ve both changed a lot, it’s nice to realize how well he still knows you. And he seems to accept all the ways you’ve changed in stride, which surprises you a little. Change had never been his favorite thing. There’s also just a general sense of nostalgia to your interactions with him. He’s safe in the way someone says that you can always go home. It feels like falling into old patterns. 
But, that’s not what life is supposed to be, is it? Life is about taking chances and risks and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. Falling back into step with Wonwoo would be so easy. It’s obvious that he still loves you, or maybe loves you again. It’s so easy to picture what your life with him looks like because you remember. You remember all the plans the two of you made. It just feels kind of stagnant, though. You know the kind of love you’re getting back into. It’s not even about not trusting him or worrying it would end up in another break-up. Things are different enough with your communication that you trust it would be different on that front.
It’s just, if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t get Soonyoung off your mind. Even when you’ve been with Wonwoo, there’s that small voice in the back of your mind whispering Soonyoung’s name. It’s also really hard to stop thinking about what he said before you left. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything changes. Maybe it only means that you define the relationship a little more clearly and it’s still open. But, if you move forward with Wonwoo, you know what that means for Soonyoung. You know it means you’re going to be saying goodbye to the person who’s challenged you, who’s pushed you, who’s forced you out of your comfort zone. You’re just not sure you can do that.
By the time the last night comes around, you know that you need to have an actual conversation with Wonwoo before leaving. Life doesn’t always give you the chance for closure, so you know to take it when it comes around.
“This is it for us, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asks. 
“Yeah, I think it is,” you say. 
“I hope he knows what he’s got,” Wonwoo says with a sigh. “By the time I figured it out, it was too late.” 
“I hope you know that everything I felt for you was so real, that it’s still real now. It’s just…” you start.
“Not enough?” he finishes and you frown. “It’s okay, I’m not upset. I knew from the start that this was a long shot.” 
“Why did you do it, then?” you ask.
“Because I would have regretted it if I left something unsaid or undone,” he says simply.
“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo,” you say.
“I’m not. I’m thankful we got this chance. Now, I have the closure I needed to actually move on,” he says. 
You’re not sure what else to do, so you just wrap your arms around him. His arms wrap around you without missing a beat and he places a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes, letting all the feelings wash over you. It’s the next part that’s going to be the scariest.
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You haven’t properly talked to Soonyoung since the two of you had phone sex on Christmas Eve. Which is actually on you, at least this time, because he’s been keeping up a relatively steady stream of texts. Asking how the vacation was, how it was to be around your family, even how it was to see your ex. And you haven’t done anything wrong, you know you haven’t, but it still feels like too much to text. It feels like the kind of thing you need to tell him when you’re back in your apartment. Thankfully, you don’t even have to ask if he wants to come by. He knows your schedule, knows how long the drive is, and even assumes you’re tired. Despite that, he asks if he’s okay to come over anyway. He even insists that he just wants to see you, sex can be off the table. (Unless you want to fuck on the kitchen table, because that might be hot, he says.)
He’s at your door in what feels like record time, puffy jacket and beanie covering most of his head and upper body. His arms wrap around you before he even gets through the door or takes off his layers. It feels like he smells your hair when he buries his face there, but you can’t be sure. It’s almost a project to get him to unlatch himself long enough to take off his outer layers and remove his shoes before joining you on the couch. Where he clings to you like the idea of personal space is foreign. It’s more comforting than you’d like to admit. You’re at ease, but your heart is also beating entirely too fast.
“I missed you,” he says softly.
“I missed you, too,” you say back. 
“No, I really missed you. My sister kept asking me the whole time I was there if I was okay,” he admits. He separates a little, but keeps hold of one of your hands. 
You’re not really used to this side of him, haven’t seen him this soft in all the time you’ve known him. “Were you not? You seemed okay in your messages.” 
“I -,” he starts, frowns, and then opens his mouth again. “I was okay, when we were texting. Mostly. But, I guess, I’m just used to you being around. I’m used to sending you something, like something that makes me think of you, and having you answer right away.” 
“You were sending a lot,” you tease lightly.
“I kept wondering,” he starts and shakes his head.
“Wondering what, Soon?” you ask. 
“Do you remember before you left that I said I wanted to talk after the holidays?” he asks and you nod. 
“Of course, I thought about it a lot,” you admit.
“You did?” The surprise is evident on his face and you’re not sure what it means.
“Yeah, there were a lot of times I couldn’t really get it off my mind, honestly,” you share. 
“I figured…well with your ex there and you spending so much time with him,” Soonyoung says.
Your stomach drops a little. “Listen, about that…”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, trying to cut you off. It’s your turn to grab his hands, though.
“I do, though. Which is selfish, probably, but I need to tell you for me,” you say.
“You’re getting back together with him,” Soonyoung guesses and his whole body seems to slump. You’re not sure what to make of him caring so much and don’t really want to get your own hopes up.
“No,” you assure him. “No, I think that chapter of my life is over. Seeing him just brought up a lot of unfinished shit. And then with the holidays and the resort. I did…well, we did have sex. Just once, on Christmas.”
Soonyoung nods, but doesn’t seem relieved. “I figured you would, I did basically push you to try other things out. Are you going to see him again now that you��re back here?”
“No,” you say again. “But, I think I want to hear what you were going to say.” 
“I’m not sure now is…” he starts and nearly melts at the look you give him.
“Please,” you say so softly it’s barely audible. 
“I should’ve gone with you when you asked,” he says and that brings you up short. You never dared to hope for that much. “I knew it as soon as you were gone. But, I figured it’d be fine. I’d be right where you left me when you got back. Then, you ran into your ex and you seemed happy for the chance. I thought I’d fucked up and that you’d fall for him again. I considered just showing up. I chickened out, though. I figured if it was supposed to work out, then it would. Part of me even hoped you might fuck him and that you’d realize what it took me just a little too long to realize.”
“And what’s that?” you prompt.
“That I’m ready to give actual commitment a try. That I don’t want to think about sharing you with anyone else,” he says and his voice drops to a whisper. “That I love you.” 
“What did you just say?” you ask. 
He takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. “That I love you. And I’m sorry.” 
You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes a tear from your cheek. “I love you, too, you giant idiot. It’s always been you for me. It wasn’t ever going to be my ex. I’m not sorry, though. Everything that we’ve experienced, it’s been exactly what I needed.” 
“You know what this means though, right?” he asks and you shake your head. “No more fucking anyone that’s not me.” 
“We don’t have to…” you start. You don’t want to change him, never have. He’s always been perfect exactly the way he is. 
“I know, but I want to. It’s only you. I think it always has been and you just knew it a lot before I did,” he says.
“Can you just kiss me now?” you ask through your tears. 
When your lips meet, it’s so slow and tender. So full of affection and joy and everything left unsaid. For now, at least. If there’s anything you know about Soonyoung, it’s that he doesn’t like to keep much to himself. It’s been so much, so overwhelming. Even though the kisses are languid, you feel the heat building between the two of you. Feel the desire getting stronger. That’s when he breaks the kiss. Your face must look confused or disappointed because he smiles, so full of genuine affection, and stands up. He holds a hand out to you.
“I don’t want the first time after telling you that I love you to be on your couch,” he says. 
Your smile matches his when you take his hand and interlace your fingers. He brings your hands up to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. Doesn’t let go of your hand even when you’re in your bedroom. He sits down on the edge of the bed and pulls you between his legs. It makes you lean down to kiss him, but it’s kind of nice. He finally lets go of your hand so that he can wrap his arms around you instead. When Soonyoung looks up at you, eyes full of affection, it’s just more than you can handle. 
“Please, Soonie,” you whisper.
“What?” he asks.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you request.
“Like what?” he asks.
“Like I’m the only person in the entire world,” you say.
He only smiles at first. “I had a lot of time to think when you were away. I’m just appreciating you now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him.
“I wouldn’t let you.” 
Finally, he pulls you into bed and it’s the most perfect night you’ve ever spent with him. And you’ve had a lot of great nights. He always takes his time with you, always makes sure you’re well taken care of. It’s different now. His lips are everywhere and his hands seem to need to find whatever part of you they can. You’ve never felt so loved and so safe, even with him. Even though he always makes it comfortable. You know that you made the right choice.
(You’re sure when he’s got you seeing stars from his mouth between your legs. You’re sure when he’s sucking marks into your skin where only he can see them. You’re sure when he asks you to tie his hands to the bed. You’re sure when he asks you to untie him so he can fuck you into the mattress. You’re especially sure when he wraps himself around you to fall asleep. It’s everything you’ve wanted, but only because it’s him. It wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.)
Morning comes and everything looks even better in the soft light of a winter’s morning. You’re not sure you’re ever going to get Soonyoung out of your bed (or your apartment) and you’re not really sure you want to. The new year is right around the corner and you can’t wait to see what it brings the both of you.
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thanks for coming on this ride with me 💕 please reblog or let me know your thoughts if you liked it!
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insomniakisses · 10 months
Text
Being the Omega
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NSFW MINORS DNI // CIS HETS DNI
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General Hcs -
soooooooo protective of you
like you literally always have to have one of them with you if you go anywhere
more chances than no its at least 2 of them
they like to do wellness checks on you
basically holding you to them and scenting and sniffing at your neck to see if your okay
there very instinctual alphas
cuddles is a daily activity
happens more than once a day and lasts sooo long
incredibly horny babies
like you have 4 alphas that almost always have semis
Jen and Lisa do fight over you quite often and it always leads to Chae or Jisoo stealing you
very respectful alphas though
they just love you so so much and want you safe, healthy and happy
Your Heats -
like most groups they prefer you dont go on suppressants
they wont outwardly force you off them if you do take them but there disapproval is clear
they just know they do no good
say the word heat around any of them and there hard and ready to go
take turns with you to an extent
see chae and jen dont mind sharing if its with each other but anyone else is a no
mainly because jisoo and lisa are too possessive to share and if they are fucking you they hate anyone else touching you
soooooo into breeding plugs and tape
if your in heat and not knotted your plugged or taped up to hold their cum
they all have the prettiest of cocks
Jisoo's cock
shes got a pretty lengthy cock
id say easily at the 7-8 inch mark
its heavy too, being thicker than average
has a pretty cock with a blushed tip
her balls are pretty even inside and hang just slightly lower than average but not much
thick potent cum
mommy kink
Jisoo Hcs
possessive baby
aggressive af when her ruts approaching like shit pisses her off so more and she only likes being near you
you wake up to her thrusting in you and nipping your neck
pressed her face to your neck ALOT
When her rut actually hits she goes straight to you
her scent so strong that your practically beggin for her
such a potent alpha so her happy trail is thick and her cum is SO fertile
her moaning is deep and loud
shes rough tbh.
takes you from behind or has you in a mating press
her rut typically lasts 2-3 days
Jennie's Cock
not as thick as jisoo's but just as long
pale cock with a pretty pink tip
her cock curves up slightly
she has 2 small and cute balls perfect to suck on
her cum isnt all too fertile
its runny and her loads aren't that big either
but babys cum is warm af
Jennie Hc's
cuddle monster
always uses the excuse its cold and omegas need heat to pull you close
just nuzzles and kisses at your neck
always ends in cockwarming and making out
baby LOVES making out
will whine for attention
when shes in rut baby is even more clingy and whiney
growls alot instead of just asking for what she wants / needs
if shes in rut she likes to have you ride her till shes shooting blanks
will mark you up SO much
im talking bites and scratches
such needy and whiney moans
cums so many times
just a needy needy baby who is so so horny all the time
her ruts are typically 4 days
daddy kink fr
Chae's Cock -
SO THICK
like she stretched tf outta your pussy
shes big in length too 8-9 inches for SURE
and she LOVES fucking balls deep
speaking of balls baby has some heavy ones
full of hot thick cum
shes relatively fertile
either just above or bellow average
definitely has a thick happy trail
but keeps it trimmed so she can show off her abs
her cock is for sureeee tanned with a light tip
heavy cock fr
always hard
biggggg loads
Chae Hcs -
horny 24/7
like I said always hard
loved just fucking you in missionary to bite and scent at your neck
its also easy for her to push you into a mating press when she needs to
cums so much
asks you to cuddle ends up fucking you all day/night
def has a size kink
daddy kink and breading kink too
likes tying you up
uses toys on you alot
likes how you moan and beg for her
probably likes the idea of food play
her ruts are usually 4-5 days
Lisa's Cock
BIGGGG
babys 8-9 inches
and thiccck
heavy low hanging balls
ones slightly higher than the other
they hit you with every thrust
such hot creamy cum
its that thick sticky kind too
tastes sooooo good
her cock has a slight curve
either up or to the side
thick happy trail and such potent / fertile cum
Lisa Hc's
she fucks deep and only deep
so you get so so stretched
cocky as helllll
always teasing you
definitely cums in your pants
like I'm talking your used pants she will jerk herself with them
such a daddy kink
calls you kitten
breeding kink
loves dirty talk
always hard and ready to fuck
will pull you for a quickie just before your about to go on stage
wears vibrating cockrings while she fucks you
falls asleep inside you and keeps thrusting
her ruts about 5-7 days
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sluttyminghao · 4 months
Note
hi! loved your wonu fwb hc, would you be able to do one for chan, vernon and woozi too? 🌙 wishing you a good week ahead 💚
wonwoo ver.
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jihoon: jihoon would be the type of fwb that comes off as extremely cold and doesn't want to interact with you, but the more you nag him and try to find out about him, he would open up and eventually starts getting soft for you. he's definitely very against the fwb relationship at first, only wanting to be friends, but the more he gets to know you as a person, finds out how seemingly "innocent" you are and what you're capable of, the more he just wants to get his cock down your throat or cum on your chest. he would definitely make use of the "benefits" side of things when he's stressed, particularly so if he's out of producing ideas and has hit a wall. other than that though? strictly platonic friendship in which he sometimes brings you food and checks up on you every so often, as well as coming over for "friendly cuddles" at least once a week.
vernon: to be completely honest, i don't see him as the type of guy who actively goes out of his way to look for a fwb relationship. he would like it if someone introduced you two, sure, and maybe he likes having a good fuck now and then, but I think he would more than anything see you as a friend and friendzones you way more than you would've expected him to. there was probably one instance where you straddled him, even kissed his neck and he still didn't get the message, but would understand like 2 hours later and try to initiate it again (being successful). when he's angry, that's when his body decided it needs to pop a boner and honestly when he's angry? that's when he's at his hottest. he would immediately call you, and within minutes of you arriving to his location, he'd have your legs in the air/fingers buried inside you/ tongue on your body, whatever you prefer. apart from when he's angry, which is only very rarely, he's just some dude that hangs at your apartment and steals your potato chips.
chan: this is a field I personally believe chan thrives in. it seems really in his element and I think he'd have a couple flings going at the same time, none of them official and he's not tied down, but I think he'd just be that popular in that sense. when he meets you however, something is different; you make him want to drop all his other flings and focus solely on you. he's not quite sure what it is, but it must be something to do with your alluring and charming personality that has him wanting to jump your bones, but also wanting to just watch a movie with you. there would be some days where he's just super chummy with you, takes you out for lunch or brings pizza to your apartment, and then there's other days where he barges in, and fucks you on the couch for an hour until he's satisfied with his work, aka his cum dripping from every crevice of your body.
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