#YES THAT IS MY PILLOW THE COVER IS ON IT. ITS JUST A SHORT PILLOW CASE

[mushramoo]

what did I do to deserve this

[parfaitblogs]

north star ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you're up late doing an assignment, and spencer reid has a nightmare. 

pairing: spencer reid x uni student!reader genre: comfort  tags: post prison reid. & his trauma. & his fears. casual nudity (showering together). hurt/angst but its secondhand. which is what we call empathy... yes... reader mentioned being hurt in a nightmare. word count: 2.3k a/n: i got a request recently with a similar sort of premise to this, so while it isn't exact this is indeed for you... north star is one of my all time favourite searows songs. here's to being spencer reid's north star. and also a university student awake at 4am. 

Spencer Reid had not slept in his own bed in three weeks.

The couch in the centre of his apartment had become a constant pile of blankets and pillows, a — probably permanent — indent of his body pressed into the cushions. The coffee table a littering of books he had read through, contact solution, and, when he wasn't reading, his glasses. Always.

You had gotten used to sleeping alone in an apartment somebody else was residing in after the first few days, leaving the bedroom door open so you could hear the sound of pages of a book turning, and faintly see the silhouette of your boyfriend out in the living room. It was comforting enough that it willed you to sleep, though the longing for him to be beside you never dulled.

Tonight was no different. In fact, the only slight change from your usual routine, was the fact that you were the one still awake, and he was fast asleep. Albeit, it was four in the morning, and you most certainly should not be up. 

Your face was illuminated uncomfortably by the blue light of your laptop, a knee beneath your chin as you stared blankly at the half written essay in front of you. You were tired, and all you wanted was to be in bed. Unfortunately, your university had the worst deadlines imaginable, and three o'clock in the afternoon was creeping up on you and this unfinished assignment fast. 

Your head lifted at the sound of blankets rustling, expecting to be met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping Spencer Reid. Instead, he was sat upright, blanket covering his silhouette, though not hiding the heaving of his chest; the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

"Spence?" you called out from his desk that you were currently residing at, still slightly unsure if he was actually awake — he had sleep walked one of the earlier nights. 

He didn't respond. You watched as he hunched over, and you could make out the action of his fingers burying in his hair. 

Assignment be damned, you pushed the wheelie chair back and stood up, hands fidgeting with one another as you headed over to the couch. 

"Spencer?" you said his name again as you hesitantly got closer, not wanting to startle him too much if he was about to start sleep walking. 

His head lifted, and you felt your heart slow in relief when his eyes met yours. Short lived relief, however, for the soft glow of the lamp across the room illuminated him just enough for you to catch the glassiness in his eyes, the sticking of his hair to his forehead from sweat, and the frightened look on his face. 

"Hey," you greeted, quietly, one step after the other carrying you over to him, and you crouched down in front of the couch. 

"Nightmare," he muttered, simply, voice hoarse. 

"Ah," you nodded in recognition, hands flexing by your side with the need to touch him. "You wanna talk about it?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but you didn't press any further for a response as he zoned out on the coffee table behind you for a few moments. When his gaze finally landed back on you, he stared blankly at your face, finding the words inside his brain. 

"They hurt you," he managed to choke out successfully, voice heavy with whatever was lodged in his throat. 

You didn't have to ask who they were, your eyes flickering in acknowledgement of what he was telling you. "They can't," you settled on saying. 

"I know," was his response, eyes dropping to his lap, the blanket falling from his shoulders as his posture hunched over even more. "But they did. And I couldn't do anything about it."

You despised being speechless in front of him. The silence layering over the two of you in a dimly lit room, a heavy blanket translating your lack of words for what he was going through. He always knew what to say to you, and yet, Spencer Reid being traumatised from prison was a concept you could never seem to grasp no matter how hard you tried. Not fully, at least. What on Earth is there to say to somebody who was having nightmares like this? What comfort could you provide?

You hesitated, then reached out, clasping one of his hands within your own, bringing it to your face. Every action was cautious on his end, but you managed to splay his fingers across your cheek, palm resting against the skin. Gently, for despite everything that had changed about Spencer in prison, his gentleness for you had not.

"I'm okay," you whispered to him, and it was then that he registered what you were trying to do. 

He carried more weight in his hand, committing the feeling of your warm, active skin to memory. His fingers stretched and found the pulse of your neck, for no reason other than to feel it beat against the tip of them. It was minutes of sitting in this silence, his eyes firmly shut, while yours studied his face. Every parting of his lips, every irregular breath he took in and exhaled, every slight twitch in his eyebrow. Everything. 

When he finally opened his eyes, breathing a little less erratic and gaze a lot less afraid, you spoke. "Shower?" 

Wordlessly he nodded his head, and allowed you to lift him to his feet, trudging after you with short steps, that you waited for patiently. 

It had taken a week for Spencer to shower again upon coming home. And since then, you had needed to be there for every single one. A stark contrast to the man who isolated himself much more now — needing to be able to see you as he showered. He never explained it, but you sort of knew why.

He stripped of his shirt at the same time as you, his torso no longer the palette of purple and yellow it had been weeks ago. Which should be comforting to you. And yet, as his bruises faded, so did his already dampened spark. The excitement of coming home wearing off, as he was forced to face everything he had endured for a quarter of a year. 

And you tried not to hold it against him, or even be upset about it. It is not his fault existing everyday has become an uphill battle, and it certainly isn't his fault he's horrified of seemingly normal things. But you missed him. It. The light of the man you fell in love with.

The two of you stepped into the shower, in silence, once you had rid yourselves of your clothes, and despite the cold air nipping at your bare skin, you let him stand under the water for as long as he needed to. Visibly watching him sink further into his skeleton, shoulders drooping. He reached for you, hesitantly, and you allowed him to decide where to place his hands. Eventually, one looped around your waist and pressed against the small of your back to step closer to him, the outer water droplets from the showerhead spraying uncomfortably onto your face. Your face scrunched, and your head jerked back, and his lips pulled into a frown. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping back, and your heart sank at the frown on his lips. 

"It's okay," you answered, voice soft. "Can I wash your hair?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod, ducking his head down when you reached for shampoo. 

Shaking, your fingers worked lathered shampoo through his hair. Your heart sank at the sight of him, for his shoulders were tensing with every stroke of your fingertips against his scalp. 

"You're stuck in your head," you observed, guiding his head back under the water to rinse the soap out of his locks. 

"Mm," was all he replied with.

"How can I get you out of it?" 

"I can't even get myself out of it," he mumbled.

You don't know what to say. Again. There's only so much you can say to him when he's like this, and even then, most of the time he won't listen. Too overwhelmed with the flashing images of you hurt, usually, the screaming guilt in his brain.

"I'm not hurt, Spence," you decided to tell him instead. 

"I know," he responded, voice pleading, though you knew he wasn't pleading with you. "But I can't get the image of you like that out of my mind."

You fell silent. Again. 

"Sorry," he repeated, his apologising incessant. Though, you knew better than to tell him not to apologise anymore.

Instead, while your fingers worked conditioner through the ends of his hair, you brought up another idea. "How about we go to the roof?"

"It's four in the morning," he murmured. 

"Like that's ever stopped you from doing anything ever," you huffed, and his lips twitched.

"It'll be cold," he argued, watching your shoulders deflate with his second denial of the idea. His own heart dropped. "Yeah, okay. We can go to the roof."

"We don't have to," you said, guiding his head back under the water. "Not if you don't want to."

"I just don't want you to get sick," he replied.

"Don't worry about me."

"I do."

You knew that. It was his constant worry for your wellbeing that led you to these moments.

"Come on."

Stepping out of the shower, you handed him the first towel, wrapping one around yourself afterwards. You picked up both toothbrushes and gave him one of them, leaning against the edge of the sink.

Every movement he now completed was calculated. Hesitant. He was almost completely stationary as he brushed his teeth, if not for the slight shake in his arm with each stroke. But he was staring at you, and it was the kindness in his eyes that kept your heart from falling apart in front of him. 

By the time you had reached the roof, he was a little more conversational, even smiling at your attempt at a joke (though, you were pretty sure that wasn't very genuine).

"Come here," you said, holding your arms out in front of you, walking backwards. He caught up to you, clasping your hands within his own, movement akin to a rag doll as you tugged him closer. 

"No," he protested when you placed his hands on your waist, clocking precisely what you were doing with him within seconds. 

"Yes," you argued, encircling your arms around his neck. "Humour me for a bit."

"I thought we were looking at the stars."

"You thought wrong."

Despite himself and his disdainful grumbling, he let you sway your two bodies, a silent dance amongst the distant, quiet hum of car engines. 

"I don't like dancing," he said, after a few long minutes.

"I know."

"So why did you take me up here to dance?"

The sharp sentences had become a staple in Spencer Reid's speech, though usually unintentional, and usually going unnoticed by him. They still hurt.

"Because," you began, forcing your eyes to fixate on his face, and not the scattering of stars and silhouettes of buildings you could see stretched out behind him. "You're thinking about how much you don't like dancing."

"Yes. I am."

You stilled your bodies and stared at him for a few beats, expectantly, until it rolled over in his brain, and he realised what you were doing. You had, successfully, distracted him from the nightmare. 

He didn't say anything more, but his eyes had softened, and you knew from that he was thankful. Silent communication had become your shared best friend with Spencer.

"I don't know how to stop them," he mumbled, head bowing and unkempt curls covered his face, that you were quick to brush back, hands resting on either side of his jawline. "The nightmares."

"I don't know either," you answered, hating the sound of the words coming out of your mouth. You despised not having all the answers for him, like he probably would for you. "Therapy, I guess."

"I've been doing therapy. Everyday. It isn't helping."

"You've been home less than a month."

"But it isn't getting any better."

Your chest ached, meeting his gaze once again as he snapped his head up on his words. Uncomfortable desperation dressed his face, and it was as though he was crumbling right there in front of you — your hands unable to pick up the shattered pieces quick enough. 

You hadn't dealt with a trauma wound this bad, this fresh, ever. You weren't equipped for that. A university assignment, that sat incomplete in a softly lit apartment, for a degree you were yet to claim, proved that. Spencer knew that. He knew you wouldn't have the answers he needed; they were answers even he didn't have. 

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "This isn't fair on you."

No, it wasn't. And you don't want to imagine how you would be in his position instead, but you were pretty sure you'd be just as bad, if not worse. 

"Please don't apologise for feeling things," you decided to say instead. "You're allowed to feel things."

"I've been horrible."

"You've been human."

He fell silent at that, and when you were sure he didn't have any other incessant apologies or heartbreaking discoveries to drop on you at — what was now probably — five o'clock in the morning, you offered him your arms. Arms he took, and arms he allowed to wrap him up in an embrace you wanted to die with. 

Silence communicated words you couldn't say to one another. Echoing I love you's ricocheted around in your brain, and you hoped they did in his too. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[buckyalpine]

Sensitive, leaky Bucky

Certified perv speaking. Bucky who is so sensitive, his cock is so leaky and he has 0 control over how much of a mess he makes each time he cums. The serum dials everything to 100. The first time he saw you, he could feel spurts of precum dampening his boxers and he knew he was done for.

The first time he makes out with you, he runs off without a word after, making you wonder if you crossed a boundary but no. He can’t look you in a face and tell you he came in his pants like a teenager when you hadn’t even touched him. It took everything in him not to whine and whimper while feeling your soft lips on his, squeezing your waist a little tighter than usual when his cock started to throb painfully agains this jeans. As soon as your tongue is laced with his, he has to resist the urge to moan, his balls tightening, with cum pumping through his cock and wetting the front of his pants. His chest was heaving, body feeling hot, he couldn’t even dignify himself with a short orgasm. He presses his hand to his throbbing cock in the elevator, biting back a moan, hitting his head back against the wall when it throbs again. It takes everything for him to not unzip his pants right then and there so he can pull his cock out and stroke every drop out.

Bucky whose cock is sooo wet and leaky, he’s embarrassed the first time you have him naked, legs spread apart, a clear, sticky mess decorating the head of his cock, dripping down into his tummy. He wished he had some semblance of control instead of constantly nearly ejaculating but he has no idea how much you love on him like this.

You love the way his cock jumps and twitches each time take off a piece of clothing. The second you place your hands on his bare skin, he moans, his cock swelling more, balls growing heavier.

“What is it baby boy” you coo, kissing his inner thigh, his delicious natural scent and musk soaking your cunt.

“Sen-sensitive” he looks at you with pleading eyes, his cock throbbing, torn between needing you to touch him and staying far away because he has no control around you. He’s not a virgin but he’s never gotten head before either and he’s sure he’ll fill your mouth within seconds.

“Do you want me to suck your cock Jamie?” A pearly white drop drips from the tip and you smirk at how gone he is.

“I-I’ll cum” he whispers with pink cheeks, gasping when you take his heavy balls in your mouth, suckling and nursing. “Doll-please-I can’t”

He needs to be inside you, man handling you till you find yourself on top of him, your chest pressing against his. He doesn’t give you a second to think, pushing his cock in and planting his feet, thrusting up into you.

“B-bucky!!“ you squeal at the feeling of his balls hitting your ass, his fat cock stretching you open wide. He clings onto you tight, panting and moaning, the feeling of your tight cunt too much within a few strokes.

“Fuck, M’gonna cum!!” his back arches off the bed, head thrown back against the pillow, “OH FUCK YES” He can’t stop thrusting, holding into your overstimulated form while he empties himself, his orgasm unending.

“Jamiee” you whine, your greedy cunt pulling him back in, his cum spilling everywhere because he’s still throbbing. “You’re making a mess baby”

His eyes roll back at the thought of the warm white cream that’s covering your folds, all of his cum decorating your pussy and it just makes his cock throb more.

“I know-I know doll-Hngg-mph-fuck I can’t stop” his he whines, hiding his face into your neck, his arms nearly limp but his hips don’t stop moving, still rutting up, obscene squelching sounds growing louder. “It’s-its the serum-fucked my cock up, so sensitive, so much cum”

“You’re cumming so much baby”

“Yeah, s’too much, c‘ mom please doll, feels so good, you make me so hard it hurts” he babbles, rolling over so he’s on top, keeping his cock warm, his load soaking the sheets. He rolls his hips slowly, grinding his greedy length in as far as it would go, cuddling his face into your neck again, “m’sorry”

“It’s okay baby, it’s your pussy” you coo and realize what a grave mistake that was because he groans, his cock swelling again, slamming back into you fucjing you with a new purpose.

“S’mine? Fuck, all mine baby?” His eyes are feral now and you feel every ripple and divot is muscle tensed as he fucks harder, “gonna make a mess in my pussy doll, gonna keep busting in my pussy till you have to change the sheets. Gonna empty my cock in my pussy all fuckin’ night”

And he does just that. It takes him minutes for him to finish each time, panting and grunting, feral over how good his orgasms feel and how long they last when he’s thrusting into you till your crying. His mouth gets filthier each time and there’s no stopping it.

“Is your belly all full of cum baby? Did you drink UO every drop your Sargent gave you?”

“Such a pretty milky pussy baby, lookit you, covered in so much cream, get ready for more doll, m’not done”

“Better keep your night free doll, m’fuckin hard and I wanna empty my cock so bad”

His favourite and most unhinged things to do when he’s jealous and possessive is to have you naked on your knees while he jerks himself off, leaning agains t the wall, painting your face and body with ropes of his spend. His eyes squeeze shut as he fucks his fist, thrusting his hips forward when another wave of pleasure consumes him, nearly trembling and buckling over. He cums and cums till your face drips with cum, dribbling down your neck and nipples, and of course he’s going to get you to lie down so he can jerk himself onto your pussy, marking his territory and all you can do is take it while he soaks your-

Idk what’s wrong with me

[reilemon]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Under The Stars ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex, tent sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, pussy job, cum swallowing

♡︎word count: 3.9k

♡︎synopsis: What happens when you share a tent with your crush? The story starts where the memory Precious Bonfire ends.

♡︎a/n: I wrote this during my ovulation week. Also, I went over this once, so if you see any mistakes, no you don't.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!

banner by @cafekitsune

Xavier looks up from the game card “Ah, I figured out what I want my payment to be.” He smiles softly at you and hands you the card, “Tell me when you’re overwhelmed next time.”

A little confused, you absent-mindedly take the card that’s not even yours. “That doesn’t sound like a payment.”

“Well, it is.”

“No, it’s not. Think of something else!” You say with playfulness in your voice. Of course you don’t mind accepting to “pay him off” in this way, but he’s been so helpful and resourceful today, that you’d feel bad for asking for more assistance.

He just shakes his head and stands up from his seat in the camping van, and walks away. End of discussion, I guess.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

You spent a few minutes sitting alone in the van, decompressing, but also thinking of ways to return the favor. Seriously, what’s a good way to show him your gratitude? You know he’s not doing this because he expects something in return. Xavier is a genuine and sweet soul, someone who is reliable (except in the kitchen) with a soothing presence. He never seems overwhelmed, even when he lights his oven on fire.

You sigh wistfully. You were hoping he was going to say “Let’s go on a date!” or “Can I sleep in your tent?” or maybe “You know, the front of my pants is feeling a little tight, could you lend me a hand –“ you blush, hiding your face in your hands. If only.

You glance at your phone to look at the time. You decide you’ve spent enough time away from everyone, letting your mind wander – how big is it? – okay, you really need to focus and go back to your colleagues.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

The rest of the evening went uneventful – you hung out with your friends, cleaned up the mess and then took a relaxing shower. Somewhere between cleaning up and the shower, you swiped a pack of chocolate covered strawberries from the mafia game winner. You wanted those strawberries the moment your eyes landed on them in that pile of snacks.  And you’ll buy them later and give them back, so technically you’re borrowing them!

Besides, you want to give them to Xavier as a small thank you. He deserves more than this, but it will do for now.

Anyway, after the refreshing shower, you’re looking around the campsite. Most of your colleagues are cozying up in their tents, only a few still talking and drinking outside. Where’s Xavier?

You saw him earlier hanging out with others, but now… your eyes land on his figure, lounging by a tree away from all the tents.

You approach him. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside.”

Xavier, not opening his eyes, says “I have no problem sleeping outside.”

“Well, as the captain of this group, I very much do.” You extend your arm towards him “C’mon, you can sleep in my tent.”

He opens his eyes as he hears the offer. “Are you – “

You grab his hand, “Yes, the tent is big enough for the two of us.” You suddenly remember that you only brought one blanket, but this summer night is nice and breezy so it shouldn’t be an issue.

Hesitant at first, Xavier nods and gets up while holding your hand. He moves his backpack to your tent and goes to take a shower, giving you time to change into pajama shorts and tank top; not really appropriate in this situation, but who cares!

As you spread out the blanket over the sleeping mat and two pillows, (yes, two, the other one was meant for your knees), you sit there waiting for him and then you realize – wow, it’s kinda fucking cold in here!

You were so focused on being a good captain and taking care of everyone that it completely slipped your mind that you should pack warmer pajamas and maybe a sleeping bag; it doesn’t matter that it’s summer, nights are always colder in the woods.

As you wonder if the blanket will be warm enough, from the corner of your eye you notice Xavier approaching the tent. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and gray cotton shorts. You move a little to make room for him, and when he crouches to step inside, your eyes are glued to his muscular legs. The staring makes you miss the way Xavier’s eyes take in your figure, the smooth skin of your thighs and your pebbled nipples poking underneath your top.

You quickly shift your gaze to his face; he’s looking around the tent. Suddenly you’re nervous. It hits you that you’ll be sleeping next to Xavier in this small ass tent. You feel an awkward tension, so you say “I hope this is enough room for you! I don’t have one more blanket but I do have an extra pillow!”

Xavier chuckles, and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s good enough for me. I just hope you’re comfortable with this.”

“Of course I am!” You say very convincingly. As you nervously shift, your thigh grazes the box of strawberries. Right, I almost forgot! You take them and offer the box to him. “Here, a small token of my gratitude.”

He eyes the fruit, not taking them immediately. “Where did you get those?”

“The winner gave them to me.”

“Really?”

“I stole them.” You say with a shy smile. Some things are just impossible to hide from him.

He chuckles, “I’ll take them, but only if you have some as well.”

You agree and he opens the box, placing it between you two.

You’re the first one to try them, and you’re so pleased that your little crime paid off. And by Xavier’s little mm!  you know that he enjoys the sweetness of chocolate and the strawberries as well. You sit there for a while, eating and chatting about whatever; mostly about the books he’s been reading and the new game both of you started playing.

You don’t feel that tired anymore. It’s probably the shower that washed away all the fatigue of the day. And the adrenaline from talking, not only talking but sharing a tent and then later sleeping next to your crush. You’re actually so excited you could run laps around the campsite, but at the same time so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself.

After you take another bite of the fruit, you notice that Xavier’s eyes are lingering on your lips? No, your cheek?

His hand slowly goes towards your face, and you stand still, unsure of what he wants. His ring finger gently wipes the corner of your mouth.

He smiles, “You had some chocolate there.”

When he’s about to lick his finger, you joke “Hey! You’re taking my chocolate!”

He stops for a second, looks at the finger, then at you. “You’re right. Do you want it back?” He asks with that teasing glint in his eyes as he holds the digit in front of your lips.

You’re stunned for a moment, trying to read the situation. Does he really want you to lick it off?

Okay, you can play along; with your eyes on his, you start to lick the chocolate. Xavier’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips slightly part as he watches you lick and suck his finger clean. It made his shorts tighter, and he hopes that you don’t notice the outline of his erection on his gray shorts.

And you’re so frustrated at yourself because of how wet this little interaction made you.

When you’re done, with a light blush on his cheeks, he pulls back his hand and clears his throat. “You’re really good at this.”

You only sheepishly smile and continue the conversation like nothing happened.  

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

“You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Xavier asks as you as you both get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, it’s dead silent as everyone around you is sleeping or trying to fall asleep. You’re surprised that Xavier managed to stay awake this long.

You admit that you forgot the fact that it’s colder at night here than back in the city. “But the blanket should be big enough for both of us.” You offer to go ask someone for one more blanket, but he refuses and says that he’s worried about you being cold.

His eyes scan over your barely covered body “I can borrow you my hoodie. But it smells like campfire.”

“I’m gonna to be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.” You reassure him (and yourself). With that, both of you lie down, your backs turned, and cover yourself with a blanket that is not enough for two people.

Xavier lets you take most of it, but tries to not make it obvious, so he holds onto it, only his back covered.

Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pass, you don’t know. You just can’t fall asleep. Not only because your ass is freezing, but because he is lying right next to you. And judging by his deep breathing, he’s asleep. Of course he is. You turn on your back and stare at the stars peeking through the mesh screen of the tent. You don’t want to move around too much or step outside because you don’t want to wake him. He’s had an exhausting day too.

You turn on your side, facing his back. You can’t see much in the dark tent, the only light source being the moon and the stars, and faint fairy lights outside. But it’s visible enough to admire his light fluffy hair and how wide his back is. You crave to trace your fingers over his shirt, through his hair… you completely took over the blanket!

You cover his figure, but then you’re a little exposed. With a sigh, you move closer to him as quietly as possible. Now, time to turn around in the same manner. But, Xavier is already switching to his other side, turning to you, and you’re so close, almost nose to nose and he opens his eyes.

You’re holding in your breath, freezing in place. “Sorry.” You whisper. “I just wanted to cover you.”

His sleepy eyes stare at yours, then at your lips. It takes him a second to register your words. “You’re still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you cold?”

You take second before answering “Maybe.”

“Turn around.”

You do as you’re told expecting him to roll you into the blanket like a burrito and then you’d feel really bad. Those thoughts evaporate when you feel his warm arm slip around your waist, pulling your back against his strong, yet soft, chest, while his lower body keeps a respectful distance.

His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making you shiver. “Is this okay?”

You only muster a squeaky ‘mhm’, and then he falls silent again, with his face nuzzled against your neck. You close your eyes, and try to count sheep.

One sheep…two sheep… your arm gets uncomfortable so you place it over his that’s resting on your waist, the contact making his hand search your hand, entangling his fingers with yours, and then pulling you in a tighter embrace.

Exhaling a shuttering breath, you continue… three sheep… you’ve been keeping your legs pin straight this whole time and they’re starting to feel stiff and sore. But if you bend them, they’ll be exposed to cold air, but if you curl up you’ll be pressing your butt against Xavier’s crotch, or at least lower belly.

Four sheep…

The gentle whisper of your name against your ear makes you yelp. You thought he fell asleep.

Xavier repeats your name, and you can hear the smirk on his lips “Position yourself however you please. I want you to be comfortable.”

You exhale a breath you’ve been holding. “Okay.”

You move into the fetus position, making yourself as comfortable as possible, warm in his embrace, your bottom keeping an awkward distance from his lower half.  You bite your bottom lip and try to regulate your breathing. He can probably feel how fast your heart is beating. You think how it’s unfair that he can feel how flustered you are.

You feel his slow heartbeat, but you can’t see his feverish red cheeks.

“Is it better now?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s just that...” It’s just that your legs and buttocks are still cold.

When you don’t finish your sentence, he nudges your neck with his nose. “Your legs are cold.”

The hand on your waist moves and his fingers lightly glide over your upper thigh. When you don’t protest, he starts caressing, warming up your skin. The contact makes you hot between your legs, making you unconsciously rub your thighs and arch your back, your butt backing up against his front. 

You immediately flinch, jolting your middle forward outside the covers. “Sorry.” You mumble, your cheeks burning in embarrassment, your body staying in that awkward position.

Xavier can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in. He rubs your shoulder in an attempt to console you. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”

It takes you a few seconds to muster up the courage to go back under the cover, closing the distance between your bodies, letting him spoon you.

You feel like you could melt in his arms; he’s so warm, smells like fresh linen and herbal hair shampoo. Even though you’re still nervous, your body is able to relax and press further against him, unintentionally grinding your soft bottom against his quickly hardening length.

Your pussy clenches as you feel his clothed hard dick against you. He doesn’t say anything, but shift a little further from you.

You don’t know if it’s the weariness, the horniness, or the boldness (if you can call it that), that makes you whisper. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” And you close the distance again, this time slowly sliding your ass against him to prove your point.

A shuddering breath leaves his lips, as he starts moving at your pace. He shifts to rest on his elbow and his hand moves up to cup your cheek, and you turn to face him, your hips halting the movement.

He gazes into your eyes and nudges the tip of your nose with his. He softly breathes your name and his soft warm lips leave a feather light kiss on yours. He waits for your reaction with those puppy eyes that always make you weak.

With the hand that was under you, you hold the side of his face and pull him into a soft kiss. Your lips softly graze and nip as Xavier adjusts his body, elbows resting on either side of your head, his chest resting against yours, but his pelvis is hovering against yours.

You decide to be the one to take the next step; fingers of one hand run through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue glosses his bottom lip and slipping inside, tasting his. The other hand pushes down his lower back, and he takes the hint.

You gasp into the kiss as his dick grinds right between your clothed folds, grazing your clit just right. Your cheeks and core are burning as Xavier starts rutting waster and harder, you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest. Both of you are panting between kisses, suppressing moans and whines.

He breathes against your lips “We should stop.” When he notices a flash of disappointment on your face, he adds, “It’s so easy to hear everything here.”

You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” You gulp and take in deep breaths. Your tent is the furthest from the rest, but still close enough to hear if someone is getting it on.

He rolls over to his side, still facing you. His eyes take in your features as his fingertips graze over them. He pulls you in by the back of your head into a slow kiss. Your lips taste each other, tongues licking, his teeth playfully nibbling your bottom lip.

The hand on the back of your hand travels over your jaw to hold your chin, and a deep sigh leaves his lips. He whispers, “It’s so hard to hold back.” and the continues tasting your plump lips.

Those words make your panties wetter than they were. You throw your leg over his hips and soon you’re straddling him, and his arms envelop you, pressing your body flush against his, his hips bucking up to meet yours once again.

But you crave more contact and so does Xavier. At the same time, Xavier pulls down his shorts and you take off yours. A whimper escapes your lips as you sit back down on his rock hard dick, your sexes only separated by thin fabric.

He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, moving your hips in the same rhythm with his. The friction feels so good, too good. Your pussy is creaming so much, making a mess of your panties and his boxer briefs. Then he shifts his hips a little and his cockhead starts hitting and rubbing your clit over and over, and you’re mewling and panting into the sloppy kiss.

He smirks against your lips. “Honey, I need you to stay quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear you like this.”

The heat pools in the bottom of belly. “Xavier, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Is my little bunny feeling good?” He pants, and by the twitching of his cock, you think he’s close too.

You hold back a disappointed whine when he puts a distance between your hips, but then you feel him push down his boxers freeing his throbbing dick. He pulls your panties to the side and brings your hips back down, your dripping pussy lips sliding against his thick length, and he immediately locks your lips with his, swallowing your moan.

He has you in a tight embrace, one hand on the plump flesh of your ass and the other on the back of your neck. His lips leave a wet trail from your lips over your jaw to the shell of your ear, and you listen to his restrained pants and grunts.

His hot breath fans over your ear “Let’s come together.” He pulls up both of your shirts a bit, and you feel his hard ab muscles tensing against your skin.

You can only nod as the tip starts hitting your clit again, and in a few seconds you’re coming undone on top of him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans.

Xavier follows shortly after, his cum spilling over both of your bellies.

You take a moment to calm down and you notice that he’s still as hard. You come up to meet his gaze.

His eyes are veiled with so much lust and craving. “I – “

“Please, fuck me.” You need more.

With those three magic words, he’s on top of you again, his shirt and the blanket disregarded somewhere in the corner. He pushes your tank top over your breasts, his hot lips latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other one, while his cock is sliding with ease between your slippery folds.

You know that he wants to prep you more, but you feel like you’ve been edged for too long, your hole clenching around nothing.

Xavier’s breath hitches against your nipple when you reach down and wrap your hand around his member, feeling how long and thick he is (he’s longer than your thought).

He comes up and holds your gaze as you tease the tip against your soaking entrance “I need you now.”

His hand switches with yours, slowly easing into you, his gaze never leaving yours. He swallows thickly, and cursing under his breath as he feels your walls clench around him.

And you’re a mess under him, biting your lip to contain your moans and whines, but your pussy is already fluttering around his length, second orgasm building up.

When he’s finally buried to the hilt, he rests his body on top of yours, neither of you caring about the slippery cum between you, if anything it spurs you on even more.

He slowly starts rolling his hips, his lips leaving open mouth kisses over your collar bone and your neck. You fingers find purchase in his hair and nails lightly scrape the skin over his taut back muscles. In your daze you take a moment to admire his strong back and then you move your hand from his back to grab his biceps. Fuck, you wish there was more light here.

Xavier’s lips lock with yours in a sloppy kiss, his tip grazing your sweet spot with every thrust while his fingertips rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. His voice is raspy from all the strangled groans, “You’re squeezing me so hard, princess. Are you gonna come for me?”

You only manage a small moan in response, and you don’t even care if you’re loud. And the wet smacking of his pelvis against your creamy cunt is already giving you away.

You barely give any warning as suddenly another orgasm crashes over you, his free hand covering your mouth. He coos in your ear that’s right and you’re so pretty and sweet names that you barely register as you whimper against his hand and your pussy spasms around his cock.

As you come down from your high, he picks up the pace and soon you notice him twitching inside you, his hips stuttering and his pants becoming shallower.

He murmurs “Where do you want me?”

You fight back the urge to say ‘inside’, you want him to fill you up so bad, but now is not the place to make that kind of mess.

Still, you don’t want spill it outside. “Use my mouth.”

His face burns and his dick painfully throbs at those words. You rest on your elbows as he pulls out and straddles your waist, his hand resting on your head.

You let him guide the tip past your lips, and you swirl your tongue around it tasting your mixed juices. He swallows a moan as you take him in deeper; swollen lips enveloping his cock, tongue swirling, tasting him, and grazing his pulsing veins, and he can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits him with how good you’re at this.

Pushing those thoughts back, he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re taking me so good.”

He starts thrusting, unable to hold back much longer. He whispers between pants “Tap my arm if I go too hard.”

You hum against his length, focused on relaxing your throat as his cockhead starts hitting more and more with each thrust and stutter of his hips.

You feel him throb hard in your mouth, and his hand travels under your chin. You hear him demand with a strangled groan “Look at me.”

Your eyes lock with his, the sight of you sucking him in with a fucked-out face making him tip over the edge, filling your mouth with his hot cum.

He takes shaky breaths as he twitches in your mouth as you suck him and swallow each drop, not letting anything go to waste.

After he pulls out, he sits next to you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.

He holds your face in his hands, his nose nudging yours. “Are you okay?”

You nod and kiss him again. And then you feel cold air hit the wet spots on your body. You chuckle “We need to get cleaned up, though.”

With that, you wipe yourselves with wipes and dress up to make an awkward walk towards the bathroom. You just hope that no one heard what you were doing in the tent. Or the shower.

[xotaemintol]

Obsessive perverted Hyuck x reader//short/oneshot

WARNING: this contains obsessive behaviors, stealing, Somnophilia, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral sex, nipple play, and breeding. Please do not read if any of these thing trigger you, thank you so much. Minors DO NOT interact.

Sorry it’s short ☹︎ I low-key have writers block and its beating my asssss but I still wanna post, bc I missed all of October I'm using November to post anything spooky/dark so bare with me PLEASE! Also, I will be posting asks soon so if you've sent any then please look forward☺︎

wc: n/a

Hyuck being so overly touchy with you when he isn’t glued to his phone, sniffing you and asking if he can have your underwear. Its no wonder how you came to find out that he was obsessed with you.

Of course if you said yes, you knew what he would do with them and didn’t care. Just like you expected he takes them home and cums into them—using them as a rag from that point on. It didn’t take long for those to become completely ruined, immediately after he asked for another pair, but when you said no he just snuck into your room and stole a pair; the prettiest, softest pair he could find.

Even stealing one of your bras and a bottle of perfume so he can smell you when he jerks off. He becomes such a pervert that your perfume, underwear, and bras just aren’t enough. So he started taking pictures of you for him to jerk off to, asking if he can record when you give him head.

You knew he used them to jerk off. But you couldn’t imagine how far he was going, playing the videos while he humps the pillow he put your bra and underwear on, after spraying the room with your perfume. Staring at his wall that is decorated with the nudes you sent. Along with pictures that are more wholesome—like ones of you smiling, your outfit, date nights, and even pictures of you sleeping.

The wall became more of a shrine as time passed, he even tapped a loc of your hair—after collection a bunch of tiny strains; to the wall with underwear, napkins you’ve used to wipe away your lip gloss, and even pairs of your discarded lashes—now covered in his cum.

Eventually though, he had to move it to his unused guest room because you decide to go to his place for a change. And he hid it thinking that you haven’t noticed all of your missing things—of course you noticed. His secret obsession was never as secret as he thought, but poor, sick hyuck just can’t get caught being the sicko he truly is.

But he also can’t stop, which leads him to groping you as you lay beside him sleeping. Slipping his hand underneath your loose top and brushing his fingers over your harden nipple, trying his hardest to breath quietly as to not wake you up.

Eventually, he moves on to something more risky when you remain in your sleeping state and decides to push your shirt up so he can see your boobs. He quickly goes from just touching them to kissing them, sucking your nipples and only stopping when you begin to stir in your sleep.

His lack of self control might be the blame for the way he carefully slides your underwear off, practically moaning when he notices how wet you are. He can’t help but stop to sniff your underwear, wrapping them around his cock as he jerks off over your body.

He never imagined he’d do something so deprived and desperate, but he loves you so much and thinks you’re just too pretty.

It’s not until he sees you move again that he realizes what he’s doing. Feeling ashamed he starts to try putting your underwear back on him, but as he’s pushing them up your calf’s you stop him. Not revealing that you’d been awake the whole time, only asking him what he was doing.

In his humiliated state he tries to string together some sort of lie, anything to dig himself out of the hole he’s in—but he can’t, and he doesn’t have to. Instead of shaming him like he expected, you tell him to continue; making him eat you out while he desperately grinds against the bed.

He’s so in love with eating you out that he doesn’t even stop when you finish. Continuing to please your body to the point of overstimulation as he gets high on the sounds you make and the taste of you. Not even when you try pushing his head away or closing your legs does he think of pulling away, you have to pull him by his hair—yanking his head away in order to stop him.

By this point, he hadn’t cum himself. He was too busy eating you out to focus on his own release, but you couldn’t let it end there. Luckily for you though, you didn’t have to ask.

Before you could say anything he began begging to fuck you. Caressing your legs as he looked at you with hazy eyes, his face flushed and his cock throbbing—twitching and leaking between his legs. His longish curly hair, is messy and he’s sweating before you can even say yes. The second you do, he’s practically crying in pure joy and desperation.

Hyuck savors every second of entering you. Rubbing his cock against your folds, slapping it against your pussy and slowly rubbing it against your clit until he finally puts it in.

He breaks as soon as the tip goes in. A soft cry leaves his lips, his voice cracking as he whimpers out your name. He tries to start of slow but he’s so sensitive from anticipation alone that he just can’t wait anymore. Not even seconds after he’s inside of you and he’s already slamming into you, not as fast as he wanted—but hard enough to make his headboard hit the wall with every thrust.

Even then he’s still stuck admiring you, the way your breasts move and the way your eyes roll. He loves seeing how you grip the pillow under your head and the way you try your hardest not to be too loud. It turns him on so much. So much that he feels like he’ll melt.

The sounds of skin clashing, moans, and panting fill the air, a hint of your perfume and sweat tangling with his own. It makes him feel like he’s on cloud 9, like he’s dreaming. It doesn’t take long before he’s trying to warn you that he’s close. Proclaiming his love for you as he fucks you, calling you beautiful and slurring is words together as he possessively calls you his.

He knows he should pull out at that point, but the thought of you being his—baring his child, telling people that he’s your boyfriend, that he’s the one who got you pregnant. That thought is enough to make him risk it and keep going. He’s always wanted to be a father anyways—why not make the woman he finds the most beautiful the mother of his first born?

In his mind-numbed state he doubles over, kissing you as he cums inside of you. Against your lips he mumbles soft ‘I love you’s over and over again unto he’s finally finished.

After this is when you finally find the shrine, to your surprise; it’s much smaller and a lot more wholesome than you thought as after that night, he removed your underwear from it. But it was only because he made a separate on that he keeps in his basement.

[smutallyouwant]

Twice One-Shot World chp.4

Are You Satisfied Sir?

Word Count: approx. 1.5k words

Momo x Reader Dahyun x Reader

You're a working man that's in need of relaxation after a heavy work. And you tried the newly opened body massage spa with discounts for their opening.

After working in your minimum wage paying work you chose to walk to your home as it's less than 2 km away. You've walked by many food shops but only one shop caught your eye. It's not a food store but a body massage salon. It had crazy discounts that a minimum wage earner like you could afford. You think that your body needs this so you quickly enter and get greeted by a beautiful girl wearing a pink top, a robe, and a short white skirt.

" Hey boy, looking for relaxation? " She said.

" Yes, are the signs outside true? I mean your discounts "you answered

" Yes sir, I'm Momo and let me assist you "

" Our full body massage is only $6.99, and I'm the one who will be making it for you" Momo added.

" That's great, I'll avail that one "

" Okay sir, let me just get your name and your payment "

Momo talked to the cashier and made you fill up some papers. Then she guided you to a room with one bed, a pillow, and a table with some things for massage.

" I'll wait here sir, please remove all your clothes and put it in the box right there. Lie down on the bed with a cover on your buttocks and call me when you're done " Momo instructed.

" It's okay now you can come in "

" Okay, I'll start now sir "

Momo tapped your shoulders and back first, and then rubbed oil on them. Her touch sends shivers in your spine as every gentle thrust of her hand cools your muscle down.

" You know our spa did not have success on its opening so we are forced to have crazy discounts " Momo said.

She's trying to have small talks while she massages your back and shoulders.

" Oh is that so, but thanks to that I can relax after a full load of work. But I hope your business will succeed in the future "

" We're trying different approaches for customers now, so they will be regulars. Do you want to try it sir? " Momo said near your ear whispering.

Her airy breath made your skin cold.

" Does it come with additional payment? " You asked.

" Of course not, we just want to make sure that you're satisfied and relaxed " Momo said before licking your ears.

Momo licks your ears as she massages your shoulders. This causes you to moan gently. She sucked your earlobes and her hands are slowly sliding to your bottom. She removed the towel and slid her hand to your shaft.

" This is quite a big dick you got there sir, would you mind changing your positions? "

As you lay back in bed, you saw her lowering a strap of her top revealing a nice big tit. She made you suckle into it while she put oil on your dick.

" Here, suck my breast sir. Use it as a stress reliever. You can reach onto the other tit if you want "

With that said, you fondled her other tit while sucking into the other like a baby. Momo started stroking your dick and moaning gently.

" Can I kiss you? " You said.

Without hesitation, Momo leaned over with mouth open and her tongue exposed. You sucked her tongue and made out with her sloppily. This made you so horny that you came on her hands.

" Mmmmhh, that's a lot of cum sir. Are you satisfied? "

" Not yet " you answered.

Momo then removed her shorts and underwear leaving her skirt on and an exposed pussy. She leaned on the other table and spread her legs looking at you seductively. You quickly got up and lined your shaft to her pussy, thrusting as deep and as hard as you could.

" Ughh,ughh, ugh you're so big sir "

Her top was still hanging onto her chest, that makes her look so hot. Her make up is a mess and you can't stop fucking this beautiful masseuse.

" So you're ready to be a slut for your business? I'll advertise your business in exchange you'll be my personal slut okay? "

" Yeshhh shhiuur "

Her words are muffled as you hold her mouth with your big hands. You're near cumming so you rammed as hard as you can, things fell off the tables and Momo starts shaking.

" Ughh! shiirrr I..I..I.m cuosmming "

You planted your dick deep and creampied the masseuse as she trembled with pleasure. Momo laid down on the floor as her pussy is still squirting and oozing with your cum. You sat down on the bed and rested.

As you rest, the curtains opened and a masseuse with crazy slim body wearing pink tube and skirt appeared.

" Hello sir, are your sessions over? Can we clean this room now? " she said.

" No, I'm not satisfied yet "

" Well I'm Dahyun sir, can I help you with that? " She said while closing the curtains.

She held her hands on your neck and looked at you with a smile .

" Of course you could be of any help " you said before pulling Dahyun for a kiss.

Dahyun replied, not shy with using her tongue. Your hands automatically roam her breast and the other just slides on her silky smooth skin feeling her crazy curve.

" Fuck you have the sexiest body I've seen " you blatantly said.

" Then use my body to satisfy yourself sir "

You kissed and licked every inch of her body removing her tube bra. You sucked her neck, her shoulders, licked her underarms, her tummy, her hips, and suckled on her tits. You made her face the table revealing her silky smooth white back. Dahyun moaned as you licked her back and kissed it while playing with your dick.

You smacked her butt, repeatedly causing her to moan.

" Ughh! Sir don't hit me hard "

This just caused you to hit harder as Dahyun bit her lips every hit. It left a red mark, you lined your shaft now and started thrusting inside her pink pussy.

Dahyun looks at you with your mouth open as you ram her from behind. You smack her butt repeatedly so that the red mark won't disappear. You can see in her face that she was pleased with every hit you make. Her hourglass body was so crazy that you can use it as leverage with only one hand. Your other hand goes pulling her pony tail.

" Urrgh, uggrh, urrgh "

Dahyun moans with pleasure as you fuck her like a wild animal. You pulled her closer and slapped her many times. Dahyun likes it and smiles every slap. This made you cum inside her in an accident. You cannot hold it longer so your cum spurted inside her.

" Uughh, heheh hehe "

Dahyun giggles as she trembles in pleasure.

You ended up fucking her again in another room. Violating her more as she likes. After satisfying the masseuse. Momo greeted you goodbye with a gift.

A lifetime 50% off for the spa in exchange for advertising the business in the company you work on.

From then on their business had customers with some regulars. Momo and Dahyun become your personal prostitutes every time you visit the spa. Sometimes Dahyun likes to ' train ' new masseuses with you and you ended up fucking every new recruits they had.

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt2) | Leah Williamson

Leah, among other things, can be a bit of a distraction for your game… but just a bit. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: a short one for today,, thanks for all the love in the pt1 :( pt1 - pt3 my masterlist

It had been three days since Leah had received the Instagram notification. Every morning, she took a moment to think about whether it was a good idea to text you or not. So far, you had liked her latest post, and Leah was hoping to return the gesture, but unfortunately for her you hadn't posted anything new since your picture holding the Roland Garros trophy. Not even a story she could react to. Nothing. 

“So... how's it going?” her mother asked that afternoon. Leah had gone to visit her, finding herself with more free time now that the season had ended, not much to do aside from the occasional interview and events, nothing too physically demanding for her.

“Well, I have an interview with the BBC in a couple of days, so that's keeping me busy” Leah said, pacing around the dining room, her eyes wandering over the photographs on one of her mother’s many shelves.

“I'm not talking about work. I'm talking about your girl!” Amanda shouted from the kitchen.

"Stop calling her that. I still can't believe you embarrassed me in front of her” Leah retorted. Just then, something over the fireplace caught her attention. 

Right in the center, where her picture holding up the Euro usually was, now stood a small transparent box. Inside was your autographed tennis ball. Leah picked up the box and couldn't help but smile at the sight of your signature, along with a smiley face.

“Hey, leave that there” her mother scolded as she entered the dining room with the two plates of food for dinner. 

“This should be mine, I'm her fan,” Leah said, fiddling with the box in her hand.

“Did you help Y/N win her trophy?” her mother retorted.

“Well, I got you there in the first place” Leah defended herself, placing the box back in its spot.

"Too bad that gift was given to me. If you want a ball, ask her for it." Amanda teased.

“You're my mother. You should be nicer to me.” Leah countered, taking a seat. 

"Yes, I am your mother, but I didn't raise a coward," Amanda said with a teasing smile. “Now eat”

Leah bit her lip nervously as she stared at her phone screen. The chat with you was open, and a picture of the autographed ball at her mother’s house was ready to be sent.

God, why was she so nervous? She had captained the England women's team to their first major title in history, yet now she was afraid to send a simple message.

“Screw it,” she muttered, hitting send.

“My mom won't let me touch the ball you gave her.”

Leah panicked as soon as the text was sent and quickly locked her phone. She glanced at her watch, it was past eleven o’clock at night, and she didn’t even know where in the world you were right now. The best thing to do was to go to bed and try not to think about the message. Maybe, if she was lucky, you would read it and respond in the morning. 

Within half an hour Leah was in bed, with her ipad in her lap, checking emails. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

She had tossed it onto the bed ten minutes ago, and now it was lost somewhere among the sheets and the pile of pillows she had. She rummaged around looking for the phone, but couldn't find it, that was until her foot got tangled in the sheets, causing her to tumble to the floor. That's when she saw her phone, on the edge of the bed, covered by a pillow.

Without bothering to get up from the floor, she grabbed the phone and smiled when she saw the notification: a message from you.

“Aww, I seriously thought she would give it to you.”

Would it be too intense if she responded immediately? 

Leah decided to go for it. “My mother is not that kind of mother,” she typed and sent the message, then relaxed as she saw you had immediately read it. The bubble with three dots appeared instantly, confirming you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Ah, my mother is similar. I understand," you replied.

Leah was taken by surprise when the next message popped up.

“What are you doing at this hour?”

She realized she was still sprawled on the floor of her room. She got up, climbed back into bed, and opened the first streaming app she saw on her ipad, choosing an old movie she had been trying to watch for days. She took a picture, making sure to show only the ipad and part of the bed, then sent it to you.

“Watching something.”

Leah shook her head,feeling like a teenager sending things like that. It reminded her of what she used to do years ago. But she wanted to sound interesting to you. What would you think of her if you knew she was actually just checking emails and watching old football matches, trying to figure out if she could play like she used to?

"What about you? I don't even know what time zone you're in."

“I’m in Italy, just an hour difference :)”

“Italy?”

"Resting. Back to my workouts tomorrow."

"Oh, right. What’s next for you now? Berlin?"

This time Leah was surprised to see that your response was not a text, but a voice message. She hesitated before playing it, then hit the button and heard your voice.

“Wow look at you, you really are a fan,” you said in a teasing tone. Leah blushed immediately. She couldn't send you a voice message because she was sure she would get too nervous. Leah Williamson, the same woman who had spoken at the UN months ago, now felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

She took a deep breath and replied:

“Of course I am. I’ve watched almost all your matches since Wimbledon last year. I told you I was your fan when I met you. My mother made sure to emphasize that too.”

“I just thought it was to flatter me if I'm being honest... Not that I'm that self-centered, but it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”

Leah could tell you were walking during the last voice message; there was background noise. You obviously weren't in a room.

“Where are you at this hour?”

The next thing Leah received was a photo of a couple of tennis courts. From the angle and the small table with a glass of water, she deduced that you were sitting a few feet away from the courts.

“I thought you were training from tomorrow?”

"On grass. The grass court season starts soon. Now I was just playing with my racket.” You explained in the message. Leah didn't have a chance to respond before receiving another voice message from you. "But it's getting late now, and I need to rest up for tomorrow's training session. Say hi to your mom for me please." 

"Of course, have a good rest," Leah replied, understanding the importance of proper rest for training sessions, especially during the season.

Days had flown by since that chat, and Leah was getting antsy. She was really hoping you'd reach out first this time, just to ease her mind that she wasn't bothering you. But as she sat at Alex's place,  enjoying a glass of wine over dinner before going out, she couldn't help but feel a bit silly constantly checking her phone for a message that never came.

As far as Leah knew you had already arrived in Berlin for the upcoming Open, not because you told her, but because she'd seen some snapshots of you during training sessions thanks to some tennis websites she followed.

Leah didn't know it, but your mind was fully consumed by the upcoming tournament with Wimbledon just around the corner. It was the topic of discussion throughout your entire day: grass, Berlin, Wimbledon, Leah no, wait, focus on that WTA ranking.

"Ready?" Lucas, your coach, asked, checking his watch. It was the last day before the tournament started.

"Huh?" You looked up, putting your phone down.

Lucas gave you a concerned look. "You okay? You've seemed kinda spaced out for a few days now."

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Is something up? You look kinda off," Lucas took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his expression. “You're not hiding some injury from me?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine, just tired” you lied, standing up and glancing at your phone once more. Lucas caught your glance.

"Don't tell me there's a girl," he said, rubbing his temples.

"What?! No! Of course not!"

"God, I knew it. It's that Italian girl, isn't it? I saw you chatting with her at the hotel."

"That was a waitress, Lucas. I'm serious, there's no one," you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. "I've got my priorities straight."

"Good. What you have to worry about now is Berlin. Remember, Wimbledon's around the corner" said Lucas, standing up and grabbing his bag. "If you want, after that tournament, you can sleep with whoever you want, Italian or not. But for now, you must keep your eyes on the grass. Okay?"

"Okay"

The next morning, as you sat down for breakfast, Leah's face caught your eye while scrolling through your Instagram feed. She had posted some photos, seemingly from a night out. 

It struck you how you hadn't come across Leah until the Roland Garros final; she seemed like an incredible person. You had even done a quick Google search when you first started following her on Instagram, impressed by her contributions to her sport back home.

It wasn't your fault that your family never showed much interest in football, so it wasn't surprising that you couldn't recognize any of the people beside Leah in those pictures. In the final photo, Leah was wearing a top that exposed her abdomen, wow, with a hand from someone you didn't recognize resting on her waist.

“Hmm?” You quickly tapped on the tag on the other woman's body. Her Instagram profile revealed that she was a football player too. Leah was in many of her photos, often seen next to her or hugging her. 

“Hey, Y/N” Lucas intervened, taking the phone from your hand and turning off the screen. “I've been trying to get your attention for minutes, your match starts in an hour.”

You nodded your head. Lucas didn't seem to notice the tension in your jaw, you tended to be serious before matches, so it wasn't unusual.

As you warmed up on the court, your mind couldn't shake the thoughts about Leah.

"Who was that other woman?"

"It doesn't matter. Leah is just a fan, maybe a friend, not someone you're going to marry."

"Exactly. Whether she has a partner or not shouldn't affect anything."

"But I couldn't help but find her cute."

"She's undeniably beautiful."

"Focus on Wimbledon."

Despite the game starting, your mind continued its internal debate.

Your opponent secured the first game at 40-0. Now it was your turn to serve. Just as you tossed the ball into the air, a nagging thought intruded again.

“Does she have a girlfriend?”

The ball hit the net. An irritated sigh escaped your mouth, knowing you had to make this serve count, aiming to avoid a double fault.

Shaking off the distracting thought, you prepared for another attempt. Gazing ahead, you focused on your opponent's movements, determined to regain control of the match.

"Her mother played matchmaker when we met," you mumbled to yourself, the distraction causing you to miss the hit once more. This time, it sailed over the net but landed wide, giving your opponent an unexpected point.

Even your opponent seemed surprised by the unforced error you just made, giving her a point without any effort on her part.

"I need to find out who she is," you muttered under your breath, feeling the pressure with each lost point.

Your serve had enough power behind it this time, but your return lacked precision, sending the ball flying into the stands. As the ball sailed out, your opponent glanced at you in disbelief, clearly surprised by the unforced error you had just made.

"Wälti, that was her name," you murmured to yourself, the name lingering in your mind like a persistent echo. 

With the score now at 40-15, your opponent was on the verge of breaking your serve.

You needed to get rid of the doubt, but you couldn't leave the game, you weren't that crazy. But you could do something else, win the game in record time. Focus on winning to satisfy your curiosity and anxiety. You adjusted the gold chain that hung around your neck and took a deep breath. You had to hurry.

The match ended 0-2, with you taking the sets at 2-6 and 1-6. Your best result on grass.

"Where'd that come from?" Lucas asked once you were alone. "Since when is your backhand so killer on grass?" he wondered. "I've never seen you pull off moves like that on grass."

"Just got inspired," you said, tossing your visor aside and slumping into the chair. "Can I have my phone now?" Lucas hadn't given it back to you yet, not as a punishment, but because you'd asked him to keep it. 

Lucas handed it over, eyeing you. "You're keeping something from me," he noted, scratching his beard. "But if it's what's making you play like a champ, I'm all for it," he said, grinning.

You brushed off your coach's voice, fingers darting to your Instagram. With a few taps, you found Leah's chat, eager to shoot her a message.

"Heyyy! How was your night?" you typed, your leg bouncing with impatience. Though you needed to hit the shower, the excitement of hearing from Leah consumed you.

"Hope you're not feeling too rough today; starting the week hungover would be nasty," you added, fingers hovering over the screen in anticipation. But as the moments passed, there was still no response from Leah, leaving you hanging in suspense.

A cold shower seemed like the perfect remedy to clear your mind, and thankfully, it did the trick. Lucas egging you on for extra drills, especially to fine-tune your backhand, also helped to distract you.

By dinner, any hope of hearing back from Leah had evaporated. You were so disinterested that you didn't even bother bringing your phone along. It wasn't until nearly ten, when you reached for your phone to set the alarm, that you noticed Leah's message—a voice message.

"Hey, fancy hearing from you!" Leah's voice chimed in, carrying that distinctive lilt that hinted at a potential afternoon spent dozing off. You could practically imagine her, wrapped up in blankets, nursing a post-party hangover. "Yeah, went out with some friends. We were celebrating the end of my mate's long-distance thing. Was fun, until they started getting all soppy, reminding me I'm the last single one in the group."

A groan slipped out before she continued, "I may have had a bit too much to drink," she confessed with a sheepish chuckle.

Those messages had been sent around 4 pm, while you were deep into your training session.

The rest of the voice messages were sent after 7 pm.

"What the heck was up with your game today?!" came the first, followed by a chuckle "Just watched the highlights of your match. Seriously, what did that poor player do to deserve such a thrashing from you? She ain't an ex, is she?"

Then, a last voice message added, "Sorry if that sounded a bit too nosy. Just curious, you know?"

You chuckled, enjoying the sound of Leah's accent. It had this magical way of making you grin like an idiot, even when you were just staring at your phone screen.

But now, what really mattered was Leah's relationship status, she was single, confirmed without even having to pry. Knowing she was single now seemed like a game-changer. Suddenly, that whole thing with Wälti didn't matter anymore, Leah's path was crystal clear. Not that you were planning to make any moves to win her over; that was definitely not on your agenda, at least not for now.

“Remember, Wimbledon”

Oh… the other thing that hit you: Leah truly proved herself to be your fan. It blew your mind that someone recovering from a hangover would bother to watch highlights of your match just to chat about it later. She was the first person to do that, apart from your coach or family.

"Hey, I'm free tomorrow, at least from the matches. What do you think if I call you tomorrow?" you typed, feeling a rush of anticipation mingled with nerves as you crawled into bed.

Before closing your eyes, you couldn't resist checking your phone one last time. And there it was, Leah's response: "Sure, call me anytime tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you."

With a grin stretching across your face, you drifted into the most peaceful sleep you've had in ages, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement settling deep within you.

[perfectlyoongi]

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who covers you every night when you fall asleep in front of the television. whether winter or summer, Yoongi always made a point of accommodating you on your small sofa. with a white blanket in the summer and a blue blanket in the winter, Yoongi covered you carefully, letting the smooth fabric begin to warm you before he considered whether or not press a kiss to your forehead. yes, you were sleeping, you wouldn’t notice. no, you could wake up, you would mock him. just a sigh and a turn away with a pink tint on his cheeks — tomorrow he would give you that kiss, yes. “one of these day you get sick and i don’t want to take care of you. i’m just saving myself work in the future. it’s just that, that’s all.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who would buy groceries with you just to know what you would like so he could buy it for you when you needed it most. as he pushed the cart, seeing your body walking excitedly in front of him, Yoongi always made a mental note of all the brands you touched and talked about, paying special attention to the ones where you just looked and smiled. one day, he would offer you what you like most. but you can’t know that’s the reason he always goes shopping with you. “these cookies were on sale and i know you like them, so i decided to buy them. if you want, i can go back and buy that juice you really like. it’s not a hassle at all.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who makes a night of ice cream and wine when life is getting more complicated for you. lit only by the lamps in your living room, sharing a large bucket of your favorite ice cream, Yoongi sat next to you and listened to your outbursts. about work or family, friends or the world in general, Yoongi would let you talk for hours if necessary, just talking to offer you more wine or agree with people’s stupidity, always ending up giving you one or two pieces of advice and a story that would make you laugh. on the most complicated nights, Yoongi would be by your side, sharing a blanket, an ice cream, and a moment that would be eternal. “tell me all your worries and let me carry them in my heart for one night. let me relieve you of the weight of reality just for one night. let me help you.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who only lets you sit on his bed. Yoongi’s room was sacred, just like your room was sacred. but, as with all sacred temples, short visits had to be made regularly to maintain the fantasy charm. so, whenever you invaded Yoongi’s room to show him a video or share gossip about the neighbors, he would let you sit on his bed, secretly wishing some of your scent would get lost on its clothes. but only you could do that. it didn’t matter if it was a friend or family, Yoongi only let you sit on his bed, because it was only your smell that calmed Yoongi on the most turbulent nights. “sit on the bed, it’s more comfortable. but don't hug my pillow again. last time you left it disfigured and i couldn’t sleep. be more careful with my bed, thank you.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who leaves you little sticky notes on the bathroom mirror when he thinks you need it the most. words of encouragement or simply some reminders, several colorful squares were left on the bathroom mirror for you to find early in the morning. Yoongi wanted to remind you that you weren’t alone, ever. Yoongi was just a sticky note away. “i know how cruel the world can be, but don’t forget that if there is light and hope in this world, it is because you are in it. never forget your worth.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who leaves coffee or tea made for you in the morning before leaving the house. Yoongi was always the first to wake up, and when the house was still plunged into a deep silence, Yoongi prepared your favorite hot drink at the exact moment before he left and before you woke up. ever since Yoongi started doing you that little favor, he had never failed. every morning you were treated to your not-too-hot drink and the smell of Yoongi’s perfume still in the kitchen. “i’m glad you liked the drink. i just want to do something for you to start your day off right and show you that there’s still beauty in this world.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who didn’t know how to confess, he only knew that it couldn’t pass that night. the feeling consumed Yoongi from the inside, devouring his soul, destroying his entire essence. Yoongi felt trapped by that feeling. Yoongi had to free himself from that weight that squeezed his heart as quickly as possible. so, that night, Yoongi helped you tidy up the kitchen and, before you even put down the cloth, he took a deep breath and, asking for help from all the angels and saints and courage from all the gods and entities, Yoongi simply spoke. “i think i like you. well, actually i don’t think, i’m sure. but i don’t want to scare you or push you away with the truth of my feelings. just… just know that i like you, a lot.”

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

Hey there!!

I saw where your Kurt requests were open! I was wondering if you'd write about the reader going through a bad break up and Kurt is there to comfort them? Just some sweet fluff and maybe even Kurt confessing to the reader that he's had a crush on them this whole time too but he was too scared to admit it to reader because reader was already in a relationship?

Thanks! Just going through a bad one myself and it'd be sweet to have some Kurt love ♥️

Cracks and Comfort

Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Words: 1.1K A/N: So sorry that this is happening to you! I've tried to write it as fast as possible in hopes it might help. Sorry if it's too short though

You knew that you would have to crawl out of bed at some point and face reality, but at the moment you were quite content to hide under your comforter and cry into your pillow. You didn't really care, you were too busy trying to banish all thoughts of them from your mind.

It hurt, it hurt so incredibly and you wondered why no one had warned you about the consequences a relationship could have. Yes, you had known that the end of a relationship could and would hurt, but you hadn't been prepared for the extent of the pain.

Another sob escaped you as you clutched your pillow tighter. You had loved them, more than anything else in your life, and suddenly, overnight, it was over. And while they happily went on with their life, yours lay in shambles at your feet as you desperately tried to keep your heart together.

How could it be that they hardly cared, while you felt like you were suffocating? A knock sounded at your door and you were about to turn the person away when their voice came through to you. "My dear? Can I come in?"

Kurt.

You didn't want to be seen like this, a wreck of yourself, but Kurt had seen you at some of the lowest points in your life and you longed for the comfort he offered. Still crying, you called him in and pulled back the covers so you could see him.

Kurt stepped in, closed the door behind him and within seconds was at your side, his arms around you. "Oh, my dear, you don't deserve this." It wasn't many words, but they were enough to make you burst into tears again. Kurt murmured softly and leaned back on your bed, pulling you with him until you were lying next to each other.

Your head was nestled on his chest, your head buried in his neck as your tears wet his skin. Kurt, in turn, had one arm wrapped around your shoulders and his other hand buried in your hair, where it was now gently stroking your head. His tail was wrapped tightly around your waist.

You didn't know how long you cried, but he didn't leave your side for a second, didn't move, but slowly stroked your head and murmured soothing words into your ear, which more or less achieved their goal. But even when your tears had dried up, you couldn't bring yourself to move, but continued to lie in his arms. Since he didn't complain, you made no effort to do so. "I'm sorry," you mumbled after a while, but he gently hushed you.

"Don't apologize, please. I'm your friend, it's my job to be there for you." His voice had an incredibly comforting effect on you and slowly you let your fingers dance across his chest. Your ear was directly over his heart and the regular thumping of it made you sleepy and at the same time calmed you down a little.

"It just hurts so incredibly," you murmured softly and for a brief moment his hand remained in your hair before it continued with its movements. "I loved them Kurt, I loved them so incredibly much. Why did they still leave me? Was I not enough? Did I do too little? Am I so incapable of being loved?"

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but as you tried to bury your face in his chest again, he sat up all at once, tail still wrapped around your waist so you couldn't fall far from his arms. He gently placed his hands on your cheeks so that you had to look at him.

"Don't you dare say something like that again." Your eyes widened when you saw the seriousness in his gaze as it traveled over your face. "Don't say something like that, please. You are enough, you are more than enough, Liebling, you are everything. There is nothing more precious and more important."

He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes for a moment, almost in agony.

"And how can you think you're not lovable? Can't you see how much the students love you? Your colleagues? Your friends? Can't you see how much I love you?"

You felt like you couldn't breathe again, but this time for completely different reasons.

"Kurt-" He silenced you with a soft "Shhh" and smiled slightly at you, his eyes opening again. "Don't say anything, please. You're hurt, you need to heal. And I'll help you as much as I can. That's all that matters right now."

You said nothing, just looked at him, eyes wide, not knowing what you had done to deserve this gentle, loving man in your life. Kurt leaned forward and pressed a light, innocent kiss against your forehead.

"Come, my dear," he murmured and, still holding you in his arms, leaned back into the bed so that you were lying on top of him again. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Contrary to your expectations, it didn't take long before you were fast asleep on his chest.

Kurt looked at your sleeping form with a loving, albeit worried gaze and gently ran his finger over your tear-swollen cheek, careful not to wake you. God, he loved you so incredibly. You were the light of his life, every moment in your presence was like a blessing to him and if he had his way, he would never let you go again.

He had loved you for years, from afar, knowing full well that you could not and would not return these feelings. It had broken him that you had chosen them over him, but he had respected your decision because your happiness had been his sole goal. His expression twisted slightly as your heartbreaking sobs echoed in his mind. They had hurt you, broken your heart, and Kurt was boiling over with rage at the mere thought of them. How could they treat you like that? Could they not see your worth, your beauty, your fantastic personality? Obviously not, otherwise you wouldn't have cried in his arms.

The thoughts he had towards them were not good ones, sinful thoughts, but he didn't care.

He would condemn himself for you for all eternity as long as you stayed by his side and wrapped your arms around him afterwards.

His gaze slid over your face and hesitantly he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry, Liebling," he whispered, his tail carefully wrapping a little tighter around your waist. "I won't let them hurt you again."

He didn't expect you to love him, especially not now when you were so vulnerable. Nor would he expect anything else from you, except to continue being your friend. Of course he hoped, oh how much he did, but he would ask for nothing, expect nothing, except your friendship. He could never even think of hurting you by being intrusive. He could never even think of hurting you in general.

He loved you too much for that.

"I swear to you."

[corroded-hellfire]

The Boy Is Mine (Red's Version) - Eddie Munson x Reader

For @carolmunson’s writing event! Thank you for hosting this fun and uniting challenge 🥰

Summary: A romantic evening at Eddie’s trailer where you finally put a long-time dispute to bed.

Words: 2.2k

“Mmm,” Eddie moans as he stretches his arms out over his head. His tight back muscles loosen at the movement, having become stiff from sitting in one place so long to watch a movie. This is the third week in a row you two have had Star Wars Date Night and even though you both love it, neither of you realized how sore you’d get sitting in one spot for hours or how many times you would need to get up and use the bathroom during the long films.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, where you’re resting your head on a throw pillow in his lap. He smiles as he gently traces his fingertips down your cheek.

“Ready for bed, beautiful?” he asks.

You roll onto your back to look up at him. A rogue curl falls down in your direction and you take the opportunity to wrap it around your pinky.

“I guess so,” you say. 

Reluctantly, you sit up and push yourself off the couch, allowing your boyfriend to do the same. The whole walk down the hallway to his bedroom, Eddie has his hands on you: gripping your hips, sliding them along your waist, tugging at the hem of your denim shorts. 

“I’m capable of taking my own clothes off, you know,” you muse as you step into his room.

“I know. I just think I can do it better,” Eddie mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses there and up the side of your neck. 

“Can I change into my pajamas and then you can grope me? Does that seem fair?” you ask. 

Eddie chuckles and takes a step away from you. The moment you move further away from him though, he grabs his chest and acts as if your distance from him is literally killing him. 

“Aw, damn,” you mutter as you pick your bag up from the floor and set it on Eddie’s bed. “Looks like I killed my boyfriend.��� 

The overdramatic metalhead drops to his knees, making the thin walls of the trailer shutter, and crawls towards you as if you’re an oasis and he’s been in the desert for days. 

“Need…my…girl.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s theatrics, you tug your shirt off over your head. Eddie’s eyes go wide and watch you like a hawk as you take off your bra and jeans as well. You slip an oversized Metallica t-shirt on and put your clothes back in the bag. Something pink and sparkly catches your eye and you perk up.

“Oh!” You pull out a small notebook, covered in stickers in all its glittery glory. 

“What’s that?” Eddie asks, finally standing up from the floor. He tosses his own shirt aside and undoes his handcuff belt. 

“Just something to prove to you that I’ve been right all along!” You point the notebook at him like it’s an accusatory finger as he strips down to his boxers.

“About?” Eddie asks. He grabs an old yellow scrunchie you left over a while ago and ties his hair back at the nape of his neck. 

Instead of answering him, you sit down on the bed and turn yourself until your ass is up against Eddie’s pillows. Then you lay back and kick your feet up to rest against the wall, leaving your body at a ninety-degree angle. 

Eddie situates himself the opposite way, his body lying the typical way with his head coming to rest right next to yours. 

“This,” you say as you open the notebook and begin to flip through the pages. Eddie tilts his head up to try and get a look but all he can see is swoopy handwriting in black ink scrawled across the white pages. “is the diary I kept in fifth grade.”

“Oh God,” Eddie says, running a hand down his face.

“I found it when I was cleaning my room this morning. Maybe now you’ll believe me!” you exclaim, and you begin to flip the pages with more fervor. “Aha! Here we are. My eleventh birthday.”

“Babe, you only invited me to your birthday party because you invited the whole class. It’s okay.”

“No!” you groan in exasperation. “I mean, yes, I did invite the whole class but that’s not why I wanted you there.”

“Right,” Eddie says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, “it’s because you had a crush on me.”

“Ugh!” The fact that he doesn’t believe you drives you up the wall. But now you’re holding proof. It’s right here in black and white—and clearly not in your current handwriting. “Prepare to be proven wrong.”

You clear your throat before you begin to read your pre-teen self’s diary entry. 

“Dear diary, it was a pretty great birthday. I got a new bike from mom and dad. Chrissy gave me some new gel pens and Heather got me a Rick Springfield poster. But the best part of all was EDDIE! Duh! I didn’t see him when I cut my cake so later I grabbed a cupcake and punch to bring to him. I found him in my treehouse and we sat there for a while. Together. Just us! I wanted him to kiss me soooooooo bad but I knew he wouldn’t. It’s dumb to think he’d like me the way I like him. I can’t help it though. I just wanna take Eddie Munson’s face in my hands and kiss him until our lips fall off.”

You stop reading when you and Eddie begin laughing. 

“See?” you say, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with your own. “I bet you don’t even remember that day.”

Your boyfriend lets out a loud bark of laughter before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Wanna bet?”

The backyard is set up with long tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths, grilled meats or snack foods laid out for guests to nibble on. The day is bright and sunny, but not blisteringly hot to be outside. It seems like half of your class is in the bounce house as you walk past it. A couple of your friends call your name, urging the birthday girl to come join them, but you have other plans. 

In one hand you hold a cupcake and the other a cup of Hawaiian Punch. You couldn’t find where your mom put the extra cups from this party, so you had to settle for the Fairy Princess themed paper cups you had from last year’s birthday. 

Squinting to keep the sun from your eyes, you take another scan of the backyard. Some neighbors talking by your dad over by the grill, a few of your aunts walking inside the house with your mom, and kids scattered around the yard like dice thrown across a Yahtzee board. But not the one kid you’re looking for. Still, you don’t give up. He was here before and you’re sure you would’ve noticed if he just left. 

As you come to the back corner of your yard, it’s both cooler and much quieter. The shade from the looming maple tree brought a sense of calmness to the small, tucked away area. You take a few steps closer to the trunk of the tree and when you look up you see the treehouse you built with your dad and uncle two summers ago. And hanging out the front entrance of your hideaway fort you see two dirty white sneakers, one looking a little worse for wear than the other. 

You walk around to the other side of the tree where planks of wood are hammered into the thick bark; your makeshift ladder. It’s a little difficult to climb with the confection in one hand and a full cup in the other, but you manage to do it without dropping or spilling either. Eddie’s head turns to you as you climb up the hole in the floor behind him. One corner of his mouth quirks into a smile and it has butterflies rushing throughout your stomach. 

Determined to not make a fool out of yourself in front of the boy you have a massive crush on, you set the cupcake and beverage down as you pull your body all the way up into the tree house. Once you’re securely up, you scoot over to sit next to Eddie. Your legs dangle next to his out what could be considered the front door of the fort. 

“What’re you doing up here?” Eddie asks, not unkindly but not exactly warmly either. His eyes never meet yours, instead gazing out ahead, in the direction of children laughing. 

“You missed cake,” you tell him. 

Eddie looks at you from the corner of his eyes and you realize he’s trying to determine if you’re being sincere or not. Anger settles in your veins and you’re suddenly ready to single-handedly take on any bullies that pick on this sweet boy. 

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Eddie finally replies. 

If only he knew how wrong he truly was. It seems like you’re always aware of where Eddie is in relation to you. Whether it be seated behind you in class, down the table at lunch, or halfway across your own backyard. 

“Well, I did,” you say, trying to quell the heat in your cheeks at your response. “And I brought you this.” You reach behind you and grab the Hawaiian Punch in the Fairy Princess cup. The reminder of what you’re giving him this beverage in has your cheeks getting warmer again though. “I ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?”

Eddie takes it from you and raises it to his eye level to inspect the different creatures depicted on it. An amused smile graces his lips, but he doesn’t laugh. 

“It’s good. Fairies are cool.”

His response makes you feel lighter as you wrap your fingers around the polk-a-dotted cupcake wrapper and present the vanilla dessert to him.

“And this,” you say. 

The boy takes a sip of the punch and sets it down next to him before accepting the cupcake. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says softly. It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard him speak before. 

“No problem,” you answer, just as quietly. 

Slowly, Eddie peels the wrapper from the cupcake and takes a large bite that envelops half the treat in his mouth. As he chews, you notice he has a little vanilla frosting smeared above his top lip. You can’t help but smile as you gesture to the area on his pretty, pale face.

“You’ve got a little…”

Eddie sticks his tongue out and runs it around his lips, cleaning off the mess. 

“Actually,” Eddie says, tilting his head as he looks at you, “so do you.”

A frown of confusion creases your brow. 

“But I didn’t have a bite.” Your hand goes up and feels across your face. “Where?”

“Riiiiight…” Eddie swipes his pinky through the white frosting and dots it at the very tip of your nose. “There!”

The way your face crinkles up makes Eddie’s heart beat a little faster. And when your laughter joins in, Eddie swears he’s in love. 

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like you,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Honestly, I thought you liked Chrissy.” You roll on your side and nudge Eddie’s earlobe with your nose. “That’s why I tried to copy her look as much as I could for a while. Didn’t work that well, but I tried.”

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to look at you. 

“Mhmm,” you affirm, not meeting his eyes. “Actually, I thought maybe you liked her again last year when you guys were chemistry partners. Or maybe that you’d never stopped liking her. I mean, she is really pretty and the sweetest girl, and—”

Eddie stops you with a gentle hand caressing the side of your face. He turns on his side so you’re nose to nose and slowly swipes his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. I didn’t like her last year. Or in fifth grade. Or ever. I’ve liked you since the fifth grade, though.”

You slip off of the bed and rotate yourself so you can lay by Eddie’s side. He tucks you under his arm and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. “Guess I had a throwback moment after reading that adolescent angst.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not like I never get insecure.”

“Or jealous,” you add, but with a small smirk. 

“I guess, yeah,” Eddie agrees, cheeks flushing pink at the admission. 

“And possessive,” you say, tightening your grip on your man.

Now, Eddie has an amused expression on his face as he studies you. 

“And you like that?” he asks.

“It’s hot,” you explain bluntly with a shrug. 

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly and presses his lips against your temple, leaving them there for a moment. 

When he reluctantly pulls away, he reaches behind him and turns off the light. The moment he’s back down beside you, you’re clinging to Eddie like a koala bear. He doesn’t mind one bit as he holds you just as securely. 

After a little while, his eyes start to slip closed. But before he falls fully asleep, he feels your leg slip in between his. Your knee lifts until your thigh is pressed right up against his cock. Suddenly, he’s not so sleepy anymore. 

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem,” Eddie grumbles out, making you giggle. 

“I would hardly call that a problem.”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Daddy!Dom!Johnny x sub!fem!Reader x sub!Taeyong

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly ilichil. Fingering. Unprotected vaginal sex. Morning sex. Praise kink. Degradation kink. Getting caught by Taeyong. Cock warming themes. Exhibitionism themes. Creampie. Fem!oral. Hands free male orgasm. MLM behavior.

| wc: 2.9k

aurora's note: prompted by this anon! <3 this ended up being WAY longer than intended lmao

Johnny was the first to wake up, his hands wandering around your body, pulling you closer to him so that your back was flush with his chest. You guys promised that you were going to fall asleep early last night. You’d been out late walking around the city while talking and enjoying each other’s company before he would have to leave for tour within the next few weeks, but he said that it was important to get to bed early and wake up early in order to do some work. He was his own worst enemy in that case. Every time you offered to walk back home, he kept going along the path you guys were on. When you did make it home, you tried to climb into bed almost immediately, but Johnny insisted on talking for another few hours while cuddling with you. So when it got too late to consider the idea of falling asleep early, Johnny promised that you two would get to sleep in at least. He also lied about that.

His wandering hands were enough to gently coo you awake. With a quiet, tired groan, you rolled your hips and opened your eyes, hoping that was enough to get Johnny to release you, but it had the opposite effect. Upon squirming in his grip, you felt Johnny’s morning wood pressing against your ass.

“You can’t be for real,” you grumbled into the pillows.

“Sorry, baby, you just look too cute…” His breath was hot on your ear while he grinded his erection into your body. “Can I?”

“What happened to needing to get to work early today?”

“Work can wait.”

Honestly, you didn’t need much more convincing than that. Ever since Johnny told you about tour, the two of you were fucking like a pair of rabbits, constantly touching each other, begging for each other no matter the situation. Even in public sometimes he would shoot you a look and then you’d end up bent over a bathroom sink with his cock pistoning in and out of you at a rough pace. So you obliged him, slowly hitching up your left leg in order to provide more space for Johnny to push the fabric of your shorts covering your pussy to the side, his index finger massaging your clit gently so that he could first get you as worked up as he was. It worked. You were exhausted, yes, but you could bear the thought of being his pillow princess for the morning, allowing him to use you however he wanted… so long as you didn’t have to roll over or move a single bit. If he wanted to get his dick wet so early in the morning, he needed to do the heavy lifting.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear. “Keep quiet for me, okay? Don’t want to wake the boys.”

You nodded vaguely just before he pressed his middle finger into you, all the way down to the bottom knuckle as a test to see if you were wet enough for him yet. You weren’t. But that wasn’t anything Johnny couldn’t remedy. His finger continued to slowly work its way in and out of your hole, his wrist twisting slightly so that he could roll his thumb over your clit.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.”

You mewled when he curled his finger into your sweet spot. “J…”

“I know, I know, just let me have my fun first.”

Johnny knew how to get your riled up. The praise in your ear, his lips drifting over your skin tantalizingly slow, his fingers pleasuring you so well that you had no choice than to hide your face in the pillows so that you could stay quiet like he said. The boys had a terrible habit of walking into rooms unannounced. It didn’t matter if they knew you were playing with one of them, or if they knew that the boys were playing with each other, they would walk in without a second thought, interrupting anything and everything just for fun, or due to their obliviousness. If you showed any signs of being awake, someone would likely come to bother you and Johnny.

“You ready for me, darling?”

“Stop teasing me,” you grumbled, fisting the sheets tightly.

“But it’s so fun.”

Despite the entertainment you were providing him, Johnny was just as eager to fuck you, so he finally gave you some reprive by pulling his finger out of you and using the wetness that came along with it to slicken up his hard cock as he fished it out of his pajama pants. Johnny then held your left leg steady while it was curled up towards your torso, and with a deep breath and a grunt, Johnny’s tip found your slick entrance almost immediately.

“Remember to be quiet, yeah?”

You nodded again— But right when you thought you were prepared, Johnny purposefully shoved his entire length into you with one smooth motion of his hips. You woke up completely. The moan you let out wasn’t into the pillows like it should have been, and you certainly weren’t quiet.

Johnny chuckled in your ear. “Sorry, princess, must’ve gotten ahead of myself.”

“F-fuck… Fuck…”

He thrusted in and out of you slowly about three times before stopping. “You’re too tight, baby, relax.”

It wasn’t for the lack of trying or anything! He was being a dick on purpose in order to wake up the whole house to the sound of you two fucking, and it only occurred to you after he started fucking you so deeply.

After Johnny released your leg so that you could loosen up, he continued fucking you. His hands moved to your hips to keep you steady. The pace was just fast enough to squeak the bed frame, but not so fast that either of you would get close to the edge just yet. It felt good to be filled by him, despite how sudden it had been and how tired you were, and you felt satisfied knowing that you’d get off and stay in bed all day while Johnny and the other boys had to go to work.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he complimented with a smug chuckle. “So fucking pretty. And my perfect girl who spreads her legs for me whenever I ask nicely.” He swiveled his hips to hit another sensitive spot. “Just like that—” He bit down on your shoulder. “Such a good girl for me.”

The sound of footsteps echoing throughout the second floor hallway caught your attention suddenly. It wasn’t your fault. Johnny was being loud with all his dirty talk in your ear, of course someone was curious about the creaking bed and the whispering coming from his bedroom. You hoped that he would’ve heard it too and stopped for just a moment in order to trick whoever it was wandering around that nothing was going on, that you two were still sleeping so they shouldn’t have tried opening the door. But no. Johnny continued to fuck you at a brutal pace, completely distracted by the tight grip of your walls around his length to think twice about the approaching footsteps.

“J, someone’s coming,” you warned him frantically.

“Pretend you’re asleep.”

“What!”

“Close your eyes.”

And right then, the door flew open and you squeezed your eyes shut. You prayed the reality of what was going on in the bed would go unnoticed by the intruder. You hoped that Johnny’s stupid act would actually work and you’d successfully not get teased for the rest of the day by the other boys.

“Johnny-hyung, do you want to get coffee before we—” Taeyong stopped in his tracks. “Oh,” he whispered nervously, realizing that he’d been too loud. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny reassured him with a whisper. He was trying to keep up the appearance that you were asleep, but it was just downright corny to you. “You wanna get coffee before work?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.” He slowly thrusted into you again, catching you off guard, nearly making you moan again. “Just give me a few minutes to finish fucking her.”

And then there was silence. What did he say? Did he actually… What was the point in making you stay quiet and pretend to be sleeping if he was just going to announce it like that? You kicked his ankles under the sheets. In retaliation, Johnny grabbed your hips and began fucking into you with short yet rough thrusts which took your breath away, forcing your eyes open while you grabbed onto his arm in a desperate attempt to escape him, but he was far too strong, and he was having a blast fucking you in front of Taeyong who was still standing in the doorway, speechless. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. Hell, he’d participated before. The shock of knowing that Johnny had been lodged inside of you throughout their entire conversation meanwhile you were pretending to be asleep was so different from anything else Taeyong had accidentally walked in on before.

When he tried to back out to give you some privacy, Johnny told him, “Don’t stop watching.” Taeyong stayed. He bit his lip and trembled slightly while he watched Johnny rail you in bed, moans dripping from your tongue consistently, pleas for Johnny to slow down going ignored.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear, “then I’m gonna make him clean up my mess before we leave.”

You shivered at the thought. Your core tightened, a sudden urge to approach your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Johnny hissed in response to your walls tightening around him.

“He’s hard for you, baby, look at him.”

Your gaze readjusted onto Taeyong once more to find him palming himself over his pants “inconspicuously” in the hopes that Johnny wouldn’t tell him to stop, which thankfully he didn’t, but he wasn’t allowed to fully touch himself either.

“Gonna fill you up… Fuck…” He kissed the sensitive spot just behind your ear while he picked up his pace.

His hand reached around your body to squeeze between your thighs so that his index and middle fingers could return to flicking your clit quickly. You threw your head back against his shoulder. There really wasn’t any point in trying to be quiet anymore. You’d been caught, the boys were likely to find out on their own even if Johnny didn’t immediately go to brag to them about it. So you let it all go. You moaned Johnny’s name loudly, clinging to him in the hopes that he’d fuck his cock deeper into you while he chased your orgasm and sent you spiraling into one of your own.

“Please, daddy, may I cum?”

“Dirty girl, princess. Cumming on my cock while our Taeyongie watches. You want him to eat you out that badly, baby? Overstimulating your swollen clit, fucking my cum back into you with his tongue…”

“Please, please, please—”

“Hold it.”

You gasped and hunched forward in his grasp, trying to get his fingers away from your clit because they were the main contributing factor to the orgasm in your stomach that you really, truly couldn’t hold back despite Johnny’s demands.

When Johnny’s thrusts became more sporadic and his fingers struggled to find a rhythm, you realized that he was close, too. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, fuck, fuck, fuck—” And with another few deep thrusts, Johnny came inside of you. “Cum, baby.”

You immediately let go with a satisfied moan while your legs tensed up and your whole body spasmed through a strong orgasm.

Johnny panted as he caught his breath. “Good girl…” And while he was still twitching inside of you, he grabbed a handful of your ass a bit possessively. When he was done, Johnny slowly pulled out of you, then he flipped the covers off your bodies, revealing how lazy the two of you really were by not even going through the trouble of removing your clothes before fucking so early in the morning. “Taeyongie,” he called out endearingly.

You rolled onto your back, also trying to catch your breath.

“Come here.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicked between you and Johnny, wondering if it was safe to approach or if he should have made a run for it. If he tried that, one of the Doms in the house would’ve gotten their hands on him regardless. So Taeyong stopped touching himself before warily approaching the bed. You spotted Johnny combing his long hair out of his face while sitting up, grinning at Taeyong who kneeled on the mattress.

“Clean her up for me while I get ready for work.”

Taeyong eyed you. “Can I—”

“No,” Johnny replied quickly. He wanted you clean, he didn’t want Taeyong to get off. If he was going to interrupt your morning, then he would get to suffer without an orgasm. “I'll be back.” Then oh-so-casually Johnny slid out of bed and strolled into the adjourning bathroom.

Taeyong got to work before you could brace yourself. What was it with the boys and wanting to surprise you all morning? He put his hands on both sides of your waist before pulling you towards him so that your head was no longer resting on the pillows and you couldn't escape to cover yourself with the sheets. Taeyong licked his fingers. The shower in the bathroom started running.

He regained your attention by collecting Johnny’s cum on the inside of your thighs on the tips of his fingers, then he pushed three of his fingers into you. Your back arched off the bed, hands immediately finding Taeyong’s long dyed hair, tugging on the strands to urge him forward so that his tongue could start lapping up the mixture of juices between your legs. He moaned at the taste. Your wetness, Johnny’s cum, your cum… It was all being cleaned up by Taeyong’s tongue laying flat against your skin, drifting inwards towards your entrance where his fingers were still forcing Johnny’s cum back into you. When everything was cleaned from your thighs, Taeyong began kitten licking your clit.

“Yongie—”

He groaned happily in response to the nickname and the tug in his hair.

“Too… Too sensitive… Fuck…”

But he was given a task that he couldn’t disobey, and he wanted to do such a good job, not just for Johnny but for you too. He loved the way you shook against him. Your legs closing in around his head, your fingers desperately playing with his hair, hips bucking around in a very desperate attempt to escape his overstimulating actions. That only encouraged him further. The light licks against your clit and the soft pushing of his fingers into your pussy alternated into his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and sucking harshly on it while curling his fingers deep inside of you.

“Please,” you begged helplessly.

The shower shut off.

Taeyong’s efforts doubled in speed, hurtling you towards another orgasm. No, no, no, Johnny didn’t say anything about that— He wouldn’t be happy if he found you cumming on Taeyong’s tongue and fingers. But nothing deterred Taeyong. You watched him with pleading eyes as he focused on you while grinding his hips into the mattress, probably trying to get some kind of friction to alleviate his unbearable erection.

“Taeyong—”

“You better not be cumming.”

The tone of voice coming from the bathroom doorway halted his actions immediately and pulled away with a devastated moan that had you second guessing if Johnny was speaking to you or…

Taeyong’s face was so red.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to better gauge the situation. In front of you, Taeyong was adjusting his pants uncomfortably, his eyes crossed, and gentle moans falling from his lips. As your gaze dropped, you saw a wet spot forming in Taeyong’s pants. No… It wasn’t possible? Was it?

Johnny walked forward, a towel hanging low on his hips while his wet hair dripped water down his back and onto the wood floors. He tsked his tongue, disappointed. “Did I ruin your orgasm?”

Taeyong nodded silently.

You’d never seen Taeyong cum hands free before— Hell, no one had even mentioned it before, you didn’t know it was something he was capable of. Telling by the look on his face, he didn’t know either.

Johnny cupped his hand under Taeyong’s chin, forcing him to look up with shame and embarrassment radiating off of him. “Give me a taste.” He said it like it was an offer rather than a demand before he began kissing Taeyong passionately, swallowing all of Taeyong’s desperate moans and reveling in the way Taeyong kissed him harder and more passionately in the hopes of getting more relief following his ruined orgasm; However, Johnny pulled away with a grin, leaving Taeyong untouched. “You should go change. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

You and Taeyong shared a quick glance, both of you disappointed in the fact that Johnny was purposefully ending your playful morning with Taeyong’s ruined orgasm and your edge, Johnny’s cum still seeping out of you. Reluctantly, Taeyong stood. His erection was still prominent in his pants, poor thing. You wanted to take pity on him and help him out, but Johnny was keeping a close eye on the two of you, making sure Taeyong left without stealing another taste of you or getting himself off. John smiled at you. You slumped back down on the bed, limbs sprawled out of exhaustion.

“Meanie,” you croaked.

Johnny chuckled while walking back into the bathroom. He was clearly enjoying the idea of having something new to tease Taeyong with.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which your period cramps bring you to tears but jungkook’s gentle hand is warm.

> fluff / wc: 2k

> warnings: boob massage !!, mention of sex, mention of period blood

note: a little sumnsumn for the physical intimacy of it all <3 and my fellow period havers who get unbearable period cramps and sore boobies </3 and before u ask - yes, i’ve been listening to joon’s closer on repeat a lot. like a lot. and it makes me devastatingly emotional. + feedback is always appreciated :DD

—

your head accidentally bumping against jungkook’s shoulder as you curl up in pain is what ultimately wakes him up. out of habit, his blurry eyes gloss over at the time displayed on the digital clock. 3:14am.

he cups your face in concern, which is visibly stricken with agony. two of his longest fingers brush back the strands of hair that fell over your eyes, and they flutter upon shortly after. his lips curve into a frown when he notices your eyelashes that kissed your cheeks goodbye are wet from unshed tears. you fell asleep at 9pm earlier, and he thought you’d feel better when you wake up in the morning, but he turned out to be wrong. your period cramps seem to be particularly bad this month, adding up to the fact that it arrived two weeks early.

“want a massage, baby?”

his deep morning voice sends a shiver running through your spine, and you quickly try to cover it up with a whine. “yes, please.”

he grabs the lavender essential oil from the first drawer of the nightstand beside him, and his hand already turns slippery from barely holding the bottle. you force yourself to lie down on your back, allowing your boyfriend to apply three pumps of the oil on your stomach. he pulls your shirt back down to shield you from the airconditioner before lowering the waistband of your shorts to reach your lower abdomen. he lathers the oil across your soft skin, hoping to ease the tension of the muscles beneath it.

“your hand is so warm.” you mumble with a shaky sigh, at last finding the inexplicable relief you desperately needed. the hot compress that has gone cold too quickly beside you would hang its head in shame if only it could hear. “you’re a godsend. thank you.”

he hums in response, inching closer to give your temple a kiss. his tender rubbing gradually turns into adept kneading, mindful of exerting just the right amount of pressure so he won’t cause you any more pain. next thing you know, he’s lying on his side and using your arm as a pillow as he peppers kisses along the expanse of your jaw and neck.

with your eyelids fluttering open and shut from drowsiness, you lazily grasp jungkook’s wrist to guide his hand higher on your torso. “it’s sore here, too.”

he grazes the swell of your right breast with a feather-light touch. “where?”

“there . . . there. hurts.” you whimper weakly when he applies a little pressure on the side near your armpit, unconsciously digging your nails on his forearm. you despise how your eyes are watering again, and you’re not even sure if it’s because of the pain or simply put, jungkook’s existence. “and under it.”

with courteous gentleness, his four fingers dance across your skin in repetitive movements. he creates circular motions from under your breast to the side, and then he makes his way back to where he started to do it all over again.

“does this feel okay?”

the scent of lavender and your boyfriend’s affectionate ministrations carry you to slumber’s glittering gates, but his voice nudges you away before you can take a step inside the land.

“huh?” you whisper tiredly.

he snickers with his eyes closed. “i asked if this feels okay. are you getting sleepy again?”

his heavenly therapeutic massage doesn’t cease. his thumb brushes against your nipple every now and then, which is why it’s unsurprising to feel it perk up and harden under his touch. he continues with following the loop he made, determined to shoo away the soreness that’s causing his lover to tear up and sniffle in pain.

“so nice. i’m falling asleep soon.” your fingers thread through his dark hair, loosely hugging him to your chest as you drown yourself in the scent of his shampoo.

“does the other one hurt too?”

his innocent question makes you chuckle. this causes your body to vibrate and to trigger the sharp pain shooting up on your sides. holy fucking shit, that hurts. hormones are a bitch.

“yes, but not as much.”

jungkook fights off sleep as he alternates between massaging your lower abdomen and chest. your skin gradually dries up as it absorbs the essential oil, but he doesn’t take this as a signal to stop at all. he keeps going anyway. as sleepiness clouds his mind, however, he impulsively cups your breast in his hand and allows himself a firm squeeze. the two of you knew it was inevitable, really, because it’s obviously a reflex for him at this point. and yet, your breath still gets heavier, as if this is the first time you’ve been touched by him.

“you’re so squishy. want to stay like this forever.” he mumbles almost incoherently. he gives the soft flesh another squeeze, and another, and another, before pressing his fingers on the side to carry on with his massage.

“you know, i’m starting to think you really mean that.” you recount all the other times he hazily uttered the same words while holding your boobs and/or nuzzling his face against them during non-sexual encounters simply because he finds them, in his own words, so comforting. one of these days you ought to ask: does he have the same affinity for them as you do for his doe eyes?

well, not that you mind. clearly, you get more privileges from it than you originally thought.

“mhmm, guilty as charged.” he replies with a toothy grin.

he pulls you closer by the curve of your waist as if your bodies could possibly get any closer than this, but he stubbornly insists and he painfully yearns. lost in a haze— he wants to get under your skin, let his pounding heart cross the distance and meet yours like two penpals throwing caution to the wind. however, your hearts are prisoners to your vessels.

isn’t this the reason we have sex? make love? to be as close as humanly possible? more than what they call an instinct, honestly speaking, is it not an enigmatic ache? a greedy appetite for love?

maybe that’s also why jungkook refuses to stop stealing kisses from your lips despite uncontrollable giggles racking the both of you. he holds himself up on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress. teeth accidentally knocking once, lips landing on the corners of your mouth, the air becomes warmer but he refuses to let go of the moment when he finally aims right. maybe that’s why he still chases after you despite getting reluctantly pushed away, feeling like he just won the nine-digit prize at the lottery when he gets rewarded with one final peck. it’s as if to say i don’t want to be a stranger. i don’t want to forget. let me mold the memory of the shape of your lips onto mine.

“your hair kept tickling my ear.” you tilt your head to the side to escape, gasping for air.

his playful giggles continue to fill the dark hours’ ringing silence, relentlessly moving closer to snuggle with you again. the scent of lavender has hung to the fabric of your shirt, and it soothes him to sleep like a lullaby.

“you made all the blood gush out. i hate you. need to go change before i stain the sheets.”

the loss of your warmth causes him to muffle a groan against your pillow, his hand holding on to yours until the hook of his pinky finger slips away from your thumb. he hears the walk-in closet open and close, and then the same with the bathroom door. the sound of water running from the shower serves as white noise as he loses the battle against the angel of slumber.

feeling refreshed after a quick warm shower, you go back to bed with your pain finally cranked down to a bearable level. however, the sight of your sleeping boyfriend snoring with his mouth slightly open makes you click your tongue with a laugh. the stubborn man somehow always ends up using your pillow, or you as a pillow. with a silent grunt, you carefully carry and drop his upper body to his side of the bed, followed by his long legs. you adjust his head on his special pillow to keep it elevated just enough, so he won’t complain about a sore neck in the morning.

the snoring stops briefly, and then comes back softer this time around. well, that’s good enough.

—

jungkook jolts awake at the sound of his 5am alarm, rushing to turn off the phone tucked under the side of his pillow so it won’t disturb you. as he stretches out his limbs, he rubs away the remaining sleep in his eyes to look at your sleeping figure properly. you’re facing him with your hand curled up around his tattooed forearm. your phone is propped up against your pillow, still faintly playing the ghibli film ‘princess mononoke’. he takes it with him when he soundlessly climbs off the bed. he leaves it turned off on top of the nightstand beside you before stumbling inside the bathroom.

he sleepily stands infront of the mirror as he brushes his teeth, tucking his hair behind his ear to observe the lines that formed on his face, the most probable cause being that he slept on his side again. with his exhausted eyes closed, he starts massaging his cheek with the heel of his palm to increase the circulation of blood and oxygen, which will make the lines fade away quicker. he still smells the traces of lavender from not too long ago. he splashes his face with water, and they get washed away and replaced by the smell of his face cleanser.

it’s already past 6am when he deems himself prepared to leave for work. he turns off the stove and refills your hot compress with the water he heated up, softly singing the words to ‘dynamite’ as he does so. he runs through the choreography inside his head, making small lazy movements, just to keep his body familiar with the dance moves.

with his backpack swung over his shoulder, he goes back inside the bedroom to bid you goodbye. you tossed and turned in the empty queen-sized bed while he was gone, and you’re already lying on your back with your shirt riding up above your belly button.

“aigoo, aigoo! you’re a messy sleeper, i’m a heavy sleeper. we really belong together.” he converses with himself as he pulls your shirt down and places the hot compress over your lower abdomen.

you attempt to turn to your side again but he holds you back, putting your hand on top of the hot compress to keep it pressed against you.

“hey- hey, baby. i’m off to work now.”

you only hum in response, raising your arms to reach for him. he instantly bends down into your embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead for a kiss that lasts a little longer than usual. “mmmm-mwah!”

“can’t- open my eyes. i bought new face masks yesterday. are you wearing it?” you mumble. “the other brand’s strings are too fragile. i fucking broke five of them. don’t wear those anymore.”

he chuckles at the way your voice gets louder while saying the curse word then drops back down to quiet mumbling right after. it’s sickening how being in love makes him fawn over the smallest details about you.

“yup. found them in the living room.” his thumb brushes against your cheek lovingly. “take it easy working today, okay? i love you.”

you nod your head repeatedly. he doesn’t understand the slurred words that manage to escape your mouth after that, and perhaps, he doesn’t need to. he knows that you love him too.

—

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[wooziorgans]

Have you ever sit by yourself and thought about being in a dark room with your boyfriend!Jihoon, the corner in which the bed is placed near the window which is transparent showing the downpour outside, him on the bed and you on his lap, cuddling in the chill weather, your head in his shoulder while he is caressing your back, his little signs and whimpers when you kiss his sweet spots, sucks on them being totally drunk on his smell and touch, him looking down his hand reaching to hold your chin and plant a firm peak on your lips, your one hand automatically grabbing his short hair as the kiss deepens while he is slowly leaning forward make you lay on the bed, the thunder strikes making the rain more fast, while you and him were in your own world of love.....

Had this in my head since monsoon started, I love rain romance🤭💗 what about you?

— downpour

ohhhhh my god YES. god i feel like hes so fucking clingy and responsive when hes tired, especially if its raining because the atmosphere of the fog outside and the soft thump of it against the window just,,,, ohhh lord.

also i think he whimpers! i think he whimpers and i am willing to fight ppl on this. have u heard his little woozi noises? he definitely whimpers, especially when he’s sensitive and he’s the most sensitive when you’re all up in his shit, kissing and biting at his neck ohhhhh godddd.

i think the space right under his ear is the most sensitive tho. like neck kisses?? great! but if u rlly wanna hear him, kiss right by his ear right next to his jaw and he cannot hold back his little noises.

i love the rain so much and i have a feeling that when he’s not caught in the middle of it, jihoon does as well so here’s 1.2k words of me needing him! this made me feel a little bit insane what have u done to me.

Those soft early ‘mornings’ where both of you wake up too early to get out of bed and do anything, but at an hour that's acceptable enough for you to stay awake, just for a little bit before falling back asleep. The clouds block out what little light is available, so the early early hours of the morning look as though it’s the dead of night, and it technically is. Jihoon had forgotten to close the window last night, and with both of you being as tired as you were, you both opted to just lay down for the night and stay warm by sharing body heat. Neither of you were planning on falling asleep so early, hence the ungodly hour you had woken up at, and neither of you move much in your sleep, so the position you ended up cuddling in is the one you wake up in. 

Soft skin against soft skin, tired whimpers as you both wake up; you first from the eight hours of sleep you managed to accumulate by four in the morning, and Jihoon, from you pushing your head further into his shoulder in your fatigue. He murmurs softly, hands finding your hair first, brushing it out of your face as you look up at him. Jihoon gives you a sleepy little smile, slowly waking up with you, completely basking in the warmth you and the covers give him in the cold bedroom. “Can’t sleep anymore?” He asks, voice a little scratchy with sleep still drifting away from him. You hum in acknowledgement, pushing your face into his neck. 

Jihoon’s hand slides up your (his) shirt, his fingers roaming over the pit of your spine. His touch is barely there, fingers hardly grazing your skin. It makes you shiver softly against him, goosebumps rising on your arms involuntarily. Your hands find their way into his hair, threading through the strands as your nails scratch against his scalp. He preens like a cat, leaning into your touch as his head rolls back slightly. 

You place a careful kiss to his jaw, near his ear and he’s a goner. The spot under his ear is particularly sensitive; even when you just dig your thumb into it slightly as you hold his neck, it has him squirming in his spot. He whimpers softly, and it makes you smile softly before you begin to softly suck at the skin. He throws his head back against the pillow, giving you more access to the soft skin of his neck. Jihoon’s hands finally settle on your back, one over the fabric of the shirt and one under it. 

You place another kiss to his sweet spot, before you slowly move your attack down his neck, lips ghosting over his Adam's apple as you move to kiss and suck at the same sweet spot on the other side of his neck. Jihoon’s tiny whines and whimpers are the only other sounds that fill the room aside from the downpour outside. 

Angling your head slightly to gently bite at his earlobe, you catch a draft of his shampoo. His cologne had long worn off, but the sheets smell like him and his hair smells so fucking good that it starts to drive you insane as he takes over all five of your senses. You suck in a shaky breath, and Jihoon catches your face before you can even make it to the destination of his earlobe. Jihoon’s grip on your face is gentle, hand holding the side of your face with so much care and adoration. You lean into his palm, allowing him to pull your face closer for a soft kiss. He still tastes like the sweet sauce on the chicken you two had for supper, but he always tastes so sweet that it doesn’t really make much of a difference. His lips are plush and soft, as they always are, and all you can think about is him, him, him. 

Jihoon’s hand that was still on your back slips down your warm skin to your waist. He wraps his arm around you, gently shifting his hip against the mattress and curling his legs around yours as he slowly rolls you over onto your back. His lips never leave yours, somehow maintaining the slow and careful pace.

Displays of his strength, no matter how frequently they happen (and let's face it, they happen a lot; your boyfriend is just really strong), always knock the oxygen right out of your lungs. You gripped his hair a little harder and opened your mouth softly in a gasp. Jihoon takes the opportunity to push his velvety tongue inside your mouth. You let him. You let him kiss you stupid in the downpour as you gently tug and pull on his hair because what else can you do? 

Jihoon’s little whines pick up in frequency as you bury yourself in him. He’s everywhere, muscular torso towering over you, making you feel so much smaller than him as he kisses you until the only thing you’re able to think about is Jihoon himself.  

He pulls away softly when you start to pant against his lips, hands still in his hair but holding on him not as tight. His eyes sparkle in the dark room; the glow of the street lights reflecting back at you in the form of stars in his eyes. God, he's so in love with you. “Love, what time is it?” He asks softly, pressing his forehead against yours, noses rubbing against each other. 

“Four, I think.” You whisper. He laughs gently at the volume of your voice, like the two of you weren’t supposed to be up this early and were afraid of getting caught. The arm that’s not holding him up bends, and his large hand slides back under your shirt. 

He shifts again, knees cracking softly as he rests his weight on them. With both hands available for action, he uses the other to pull you to his chest as he sits up temporarily. You already know what to do, engaging your core to keep yourself upright as both of his hands grip the hem of your shirt. “We should head back to sleep soon then, hm? It’s too early.” His voice is still scratchy, face pressed against your neck so the vibrations of his speech ripple through your entire body. 

Your nails scratch his back as he pulls the shirt over your head, laying you back down on the bed. “Yeah, it’s too early.” You agree, holding the side of his face against your neck, fingertips digging into the small bruise you left by his ear. He hisses before it devolved into another gentle whimper. You giggle and do it again, and Jihoon melts against you. Soft moans mix with tiny whines echo around the room. Thunder cracks, making both of you jump softly, giving you both unexpected friction as you move against each other unexpectedly.

Jihoon feels like putty in your hands, giving into the early morning session of feeling each other up, cock hardening against your thigh as you make a mess of him. The rain picks up and you feel drunk on him; his scent, his size, his strength, his little noises, him. He’s everywhere and he’s everything to you. Something about the rain relaxes Jihoon, and it makes him more compliant when you need him like this. He places another kiss to your lips, jaws moving in sync with each other in perfect rhythm. You know Jihoon and he knows you, and that’s what makes this even better.

Safe to say, the both of you got a few more hours of sleep after working yourselves slowly into exhaustion as he brought both of you to completion with slow, deep thrusts and gentle kisses wherever either of your mouths could reach.

[starlightazriel]

necessities 4

series desc: modern day (fem) reader x classic prythian az

warnings: 18+, sexual tension, horny az, reader is ditsy

a/n: i know what i said i swear im trying to update bee series lol

wc: 2.4k

other parts will be on my az masterlist <3

four

No matter what you did, you couldn't sleep, despite your long stargaze on the balcony, and the heaviness you'd felt after dinner—you just couldn't sleep.

"Azriel? Are you awake?" You call out, biting down softly on your lip. There's a moment of silence where you think he's asleep. That was part of the problem it was too silent. No cars outside, no second generation hatch with ocean noises and a peach glow night light, no fan or ac.

"Yes, did you need something?" he finally asks, he had offered you the bed and made himself comfortable on the sofa he had in the other room. It was close by, but not close enough. And the dark corners of his room? Fuck no. You'd seen enough horror movies to know what kind of things lurked in corners.

"I'm scared," you respond and he couldn't help the amused smirk that found its way onto his lips. One thing he had observed in his short time knowing you is that even if you weren't the brightest, you were certainly the cutest. Something tugged in his chest— an urge to comfort you and make you feel secure. A human, he swallowed. "Can you come in here?" your next question caught him off guard, go in there? How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself? "Please?" you ask when he still hadn't said anything. He lets out a soft sigh and the next thing you know hes next to you, you jumped a little, you didnt think you could ever get used to that, the silence— the quickness in his movements.

"What are you afraid of?" he asks softly, the bed dipped gently with his weight as he sat, leaning against the headboard with his legs off of the side and his wings tucked neatly, draping slightly off of the side of the bed. You snuck a glance at him and your mouth went completely dry, your breath getting caught in your throat, he was shirtless and was it a sight. It was dark, but the soft glow of starlight from the windows and the balcony illuminated his lean muscular torso, gorgeous tattoos covered his body and arms. It made you feel self conscious about the girly little pink butterflies that were tramp stamped onto your lower back. His face was angled toward you, tipped back in a lazy way, a pillow between his neck and the headboard.

"Huh?" you mumble, forgetting what he had even asked, your heart was beating faster than it ever had. Even faster than it had your first time playing seven minutes in heaven and you'd ended up in the closet with Colin Taylor— who had been the hottest boy in the eighth grade at the time.

Azriel smirked down at you, but his eyes revealed nothing, his nostrils flared slightly as your sweet scent traveled up and tickled his senses making him hyper aware of the way his cock was pressed against the thin fabric of his sleeping pants. "I said," his voice was a bit lower now, more gravelly, because he was also hyper aware of your bare legs underneath the fabric of the blanket, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. "What are you afraid of?" he repeated his question and his voice travelled along your bones, warming you from the inside out, you swallowed thickly, your cheeks burning.

"Well I was afraid there was a ghost in the corner but now Im afraid youre some kind of demon with sex powers," you reply quietly, your heart was hammering, your legs were pressed tightly together underneath the blankets, and that familiar warm and fuzzy feeling was beginning to fill the pit of your belly. He was mesmerizing and the effect he had on you was infuriating.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement and desire. He liked this, he liked that all it took was a look and the sweet smell of your sex would fill his space, it would suffocate him in a way that he knew he was going to begin craving. Play with her. The shadows were begging.

"No powers, but Ive been told Im— gifted." Your cheeks burn at his words, your mind immediately going to the size of his cock, you had been forcing yourself not to look down. "I think you just like looking at me, I can smell it," Azriel surprised himself with his words, it wasnt often he was this bold with a female. Your cheeks flushed even deeper with his admittance and you were glad it was dark in his room.

"Smell what?" you demanded, suddenly feeling self conscious, your body felt so hot. You resisted the urge to throw the thick blanket off of your body.

Your sweet delicious little cunt that is aching and soaking just for me, but you can't tell if youre terrified of me or if you want to fuck me which makes it all the more exciting and delightful for me, knowing that youre just a little scared.

He cleared his throat and said instead, "Nothing Bubbles, you should get some rest," Azriel resisted the urge to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear, it kept falling over your eyes and it bothered him for some reason.

"Goodnight," you sigh, wishing you had the courage to press the question.

"Goodnight."

-

When you woke up the next morning Azriel wasn't next to you in bed anymore. He was sitting on the balcony— drinking tea, of all things.

You slid out of bed and stood there a few paces inside, peering at him for a moment, it must have been dawn because the sky was colored with oranges and pinks. There was an aura of shadows around him like the first time you met, it was so unnatural yet it seemed to match him well.

“Do you always stare this much?” he chuckled quietly without turning his head in the slightest, how did he do that? You felt your cheeks heat up, your throat going dry. Every time he laughed— or spoke in that deliciously gravelly voice it seemed to travel through your blood and warm you from the inside out.

“I wasn't staring!” you countered, scrunching your nose up at him, he turned his head to the side now, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“There's tea, kettles hot,” he says softly, but he's still not fully facing you, his profile is breathtaking though. You could imagine a full page spread of Azriel modeling for Calvin Klein, the thought made your mouth water. Maybe on a balcony similar to this one just half naked—“Still staring,” he croons and your cheeks grow hot again.

“Oh shut it,” you snap and whirl on your heel to fetch your own cup of tea so you could join him on the balcony.

He still doesn't move when you take a seat in one of the ridiculously large chairs next to him, the backs designed to accommodate his wings. How could anyone ever sit so fucking still for so long? You certainly couldn't, not without your for you page.

“So like I'm guessing you don't have salted caramel cold brews here?”

“No, sorry Bubbles,” he sends you another glance, he definitely didnt know what that was.

“So what are we doing today?” you ask, your eyes traveling from one beautiful view to the other, you could see Azriels head turn in your peripheral vision. He was watching you take in the view of the sunrise, your heart skipped a beat. You remembered being nervous for various promotional events, when you had to meet people and make sure you didn't stumble over your words, when you had to make connections and brand deals and all that shit that had seemed so important just a day ago. Now, sitting here, in this other realm next to the most beautiful man— creature you had ever seen… It was a new kind of nerves that coiled in your belly and made heat creep up the back of your neck.

“I told you, I'm going to take you to my family. I may know someone that could help you get home, maybe, I asked yesterday but I only gave minimal details. My— You could call him a brother, also—” he paused, talking to you was difficult, he couldn't just say Rhys was the high lord, you wouldn't understand. “Hes also in charge of this land.”

“Like a king?” you ask softly

“Yes, but his title is high lord, and where we are now, where this city is, these lands are called the night court. These lands are what he rules over, anyway, hes the one who might be able to help you.” He tried to make it as simple as he could for you.

“It's all so complicated,” you sigh softly, it was tiring, all these new things you were learning. You also weren't sure if it was so bad here, considering you had spent all of your time with this sex god. “Google would come in clutch right now.”

"Google? Clutch?"

"An internet thing. And clutch means like— It would be super useful." You were realizing how difficult slang was to explain, did it even make sense?

"Clutch," Azriel repeated, his lips curling into a small smirk, "some breakfast would be clutch, then." His smile only widened when you laughed.

-

You checked yourself one last time in your little compact mirror from your bag and you winced. The only good thing about the robe Azriel had given you to wear was the giant hood that was attached to it. It hid the ugly cut on your forehead that you'd gotten when you landed here. You thought about all of the under eye masks sitting on your vanity at home, you needed them now. You weren't as primped as usual but you'd done your best, and you did look post worthy. Minus the stupid head wound.

“Ready?” Azriel asks softly, turning his head toward you. There was a mansion in front of you, and no you were definitely not ready.

“As ready as I'll ever be, did you tell them?”

“That I was bringing dinner? No,” he flashed his blinding smile at you and you returned it with a grimace.

“Not funny,” you narrow your eyes at him, your feet feel heavy and your heart is hammering against your chest.

“I thought it was,” he shrugs and opens the door for you, he could see completely over you, and the shadows lead him to the dining room, you followed closely behind. The house was gorgeous, it looked like it could have been straight out of a museum, you fought the urge to take out your phone and take pictures.

“Az?” there's a slight alarm in the smooth voice that speaks first, and you can feel his eyes on you. Az, he didn't mention a nickname. The other— Man or monster, whatever he was, was also handsome— but not like Azriel, not beautiful like him but still very handsome. And his eyes… Were purple. “Who is this?”

“My new friend,” Azriel says his eyes landing on you again. You blushed at his vague description and he nodded to you. You slowly pulled off your hood and a few gasps sounded about the room. “Y/n, also known as Bubbles,” Azriel looks again at you, and then back to the three sitting at the table. "Y/n, this is Rhys, and this is Feyre his—" he pauses, he was about to say mate, but he didnt know if you would understand. "His wife, and Nyx, their son," he continues, ignoring Rhys' curious, and also warning stare, the claws knocking at his mental shields, "and her sister, Elain," he finishes, and you make a mental note of each of their names.

“She's a human,” it's Elain, who speaks next, her voice is honeyed, but there's an edge to it and your eyes fly to her, she's not looking at you, but at Azriel. You see something flash in her eyes and you can tell— there was something there, you don't know why but your gut twists.

“Yes, she is,” the second woman, Feyre says, she's just as beautiful and she's holding the small boy on her lap, he has wings just like Azriels. She's looking back and forth between you and Azriel, and then finally settles back at the other man, Rhys. You notice their pointed ears, are these people fucking elves?

“And why… Why Azriel, have you brought a human here?” there is an edge in the man's voice, it makes you blush and feel quite unwanted.

“I'm—I'm really sorry for like, barging in on your dinner or whatever— Usually I would come with like a cute bottle of wine or something but I'm not from here,” you ramble and the three of them are staring at you now, normally you loved being the center of attention. Here? Now? Not so much.

"Any friend of Azriel is a friend of mine," Rhys responds and gestures to the empty chairs at the table. Azriel pulls one out for you before sitting beside you, you immediately begin nervous bouncing your leg. You held back a shriek when two plates of food appeared in front of both of you. You feel Elains eyes on you and you wonder why she was staring so intently. "Is this why you were asking about travelling to other worlds yesterday?" Rhys turns his attention back to Azriel, of course he would be able to tell she wasn't from this world.

"Yes."

"Where did you find her?"

"Spring court."

Feyres head snaps to Azriel, and you swallow, feeling the sudden tension in the air.

"And why were you in the Spring court?" Rhys asks, his eyes glimmering and the question is followed by a long pause.

"Passing through," Azriel says shortly, youre blushing now, because you can tell this conversation holds a weight that you don't understand, and you can tell that hes either being vague or outright lying. "Can you help, or not?" Azriel asks after another pause.

"We'll see what the library has to offer— tomorrow," Rhys responds thoughtfully, his eyes settle on you and yours shift to your plate.

You decided that you were not cut out for a world with magically appearing food— and you weren't exactly sure if you should eat it at all.

—

reblog and i'll give you a kiss ;)

taglist <3 : @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @smalljasper289 @cherryinsalemverse @cleverzonkwombatsludge @serxndipity-ipity-blog @blessthepizzaman

[paegei]

RISKY

pairing - hoshi x afab!reader

summary - being vernon's hairstylist has its few obstacles... like your boyfriends sex drive.

a/n - lord... second attempt at writing smut ＞︿＜ also a v short fic...

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

SMUT warnings under the cut !

SMUT warnings: semi-public sex (dressing room...), attempted quiet sex, unprotected sex (guys pls be safe), breeding kink, creampie, marking, pet names (babe, soonie, pretty thing, baby, love), soonyoung calls you a slut and whore ╯︿╰, getting caught having sex...

today had been… hectic to say the least.

jun and vernon had ended up arriving late due to traffic, dokyeom, being dokyeom, ripped his pants directly at his ass, due to being unable to sit still. and the biggest problem in your eyes, a horny hoshi.

soonyoung and you had been sneaking around behind the company’s back for the better half of a year now. despite his inability to keep his mouth closed, your relationship had yet to be exposed, even to the other members.

during late night pillow talk, soonyoung would complain about the members asking him to ask you out, ironic considering your already laying in his bed, his cum leaking out of you. all this says to you is that you need to make your obvious attraction, less obvious. that, however, is proving to be very difficult with the situation you’re in.

seventeen's waiting room had been reduced to chaos. stylists running around, desperately trying to find dk another outfit, jun and vernon only having just arrived, their makeup artists rushing through their regular procedure. and now, vernon’s hair stylist & hoshi were nowhere to be found.

soonyoung’s hand was covering your mouth, a, fairly lame, attempt to quiet down the noises that were escaping your kiss swollen lips. it’s not your fault you can’t shut up, not when soonyoung is fucking into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you cunt wrapped around him.

you're not sure how long he's been plunging into your heat, obviously long enough to have your mind slipping from between your fingers, but with his dancer hips and stamina ? he can do that within seconds.

“f-fuck babe. so fucking tight. just for me yeah ?” his words were punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust, a puff of air following each syllable he said. his pace was animalistic at best, torturous at worst.

“yes fuck ! just for you ! only for you soonie ! fuck please !” your voice was muffled by his hand, damp with the drool escaping your mouth. your pleas were met with a rumbling growl, his hips snapping somehow harder. his hand was a futile attempt to keep your location unknown, as the slapping of skin on skin in the dressing room was deafening, as well as the wet squelches each time him cock breached your walls.

his head had fallen into the crevice of your neck, his lips continuing the path they had taken earlier. his biting on spots that were sore from his previous actions made you scream into his palm. you could feel his smirk on your neck. the feeling caused you to wrap your legs around his back, heels pressing in to try a get him deeper, get you fuller.

the hand that had been resting on your waist moves up, abusing your chest. “my little slut hmm ? just can’t get enough of my dick huh ? my- fuck- good little whore.” his words were breathy, and the sound made you clench around him, just making him release more of those sounds. it was a vicious cycle but one you never wanted to end.

“soon- soon- please, fuck i- fuck please !”

“my cock fucking you so good ? fucked you dumb, pretty thing ?”

“soonie please- right there !”

“fuck so perfect for me baby. so fucking warm.”

the squelching had gotten louder, his grunts were becoming more consistent. your hips were tilting down to meet his thrusts, so close to reaching your peak. he could tell from the fluttering of your walls, suffocating his cock.

“you close baby ?” his head lifts up from your neck, to look into your fucked out eyes. not being able to form words from the intense pleasure, you simply nodded your head. you’re eyes were boring into his, begging for release.

“y-yeah me too love. squeezing me so tight i can’t help it.”

his hips no longer held a rhythm, just sloppy pumps into your depths, chasing his climax. his low grunts had become breathier, whiner. he removed his hand to smash his lips onto yours, your tongues dancing as your whines mixed together. his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“please- please let me cum. soonie-“

“shhh babe i got you. let go for me. cream on my cock love”

after his permission reached your ears, your mouth dropped open, soonyoung licking into it. your thighs were shaking around his hips, as your back arches, eyes rolling back.

he continues his powerful thrusts to help you ride out your orgasm, as well as chase his own.

“gonna cum, baby. fuck, squeezing me so tight. shit- where do you want me love ?”

his voice was desperate, his hips bucking wildly into yours, on the brink of his orgasm.

“inside ! soonie please !” there were tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, desperate to feel his cum inside you.

“gonna fill you up so good baby, pump you full of my cum- shit !”

his words were cut off, his lips crashing back into yours to muffle his whimpers. soonyoung had never had an orgasm this powerful. his cum was filling you up, painting your insides as his thighs trembled. the two of you were gripping each other so tight- tight enough for bruises to form on your hips, scratches down his back.

after he calms down, the two of you still. he was still buried deep within you, as you both panted into each others mouths.

“fuck… sorry. didn’t realise i’d cum that much” he shoots you his signature grin, one of humour & innocence, as if his cock wasn’t going soft inside your walls.

“‘ts okay, soonie.” you kiss him, softly this time. he begins to pull out, & you both hiss at the sensation. glancing down at his cum leaking out of you, his stuffs his fingers back in.

“gonna keep it all in for me ?”

“i don't know babe... you came a lot” you grinned up at him, both feeling giddy for getting away with this. or so you thought. as you leaned forward to share another kiss, a voice interrupts you.

“you guys done in there ?” it was seungcheols voice, his words drowned in disapproval.

“oh shit- yeah man ! be out… in a sec” his voice died down as his eyes met yours, pure fear in them.

“hurry up. because you just had to get your dick wet we only have 5 minutes before we’re on. get out here now.”

you hear his footsteps fade away, and you and hoshi lean into each other to hide your giggles.

“mkay… i gotta go love. you gonna be okay ?” his gaze was worried. aftercare was a big thing in your relationship, and you could tell he felt guilty about having to rush through it.

“i’ll be fine soonie, okay ? you go kill this stage” he helps you get dressed, shooting you one last look before booking it out of the room. you smile fondly at the sight, before the extent of what just happened dawns on you. the two of you were going to be in big trouble.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[madeinnaboo]

His master | Anakin Skywalker

this is very short. I apologize🥹 

also I am planning on writing part two for Training, I just have to figure out what it should be about since I didn't expect anyone to like it enough to ask for a part two (I love you!!!!)

lastly, I sadly can't answer comments under my posts, this is my secondary blog, and I use my primary one for personal use:( I do read everything tho!

summary: you're Anakins master and you help him with a certain situation words: 1.2k

requests are open:)

warnings: m! receiving, sub! Anakin, nothing too crazy:)

,,You're lost in your thoughts, padawan" You say after noticing Anakin staring at his feet for a long time. He quickly looked up at you, with red spreading across his cheeks.

,,I am sorry, master" He apologized, and you smiled at him. You came back from a hard mission, and it was clear that both of you needed some rest. After finally arriving back at base on Kashyyyk, Anakin followed you everywhere you went like a lost puppy. Finally, right before you entered your tent, you turned around to face him. He got surprised and almost apologized for walking into your tent. A smirk grew across your face. 

,,Its late Anakin. Go to sleep, you need to rest" You said and you noticed how his face became more dim. Did he really expect to be with you in your tent?

,,Yes master" He said, but didn't walk away; instead, he just stood there, staring at you. With a deep breath, you took a step closer to him, making sure no one was around.

,,You did great today" You said as you gently caressed his cheeks. As soon as he felt your warm touch, his eyes closed in pleasure. You carefully studied his face before he finally opened his eyes. You smiled at him after he thanked you, and you turned around, entering your tent. You felt his presence in front of your tent for a while before he finally left. Quickly, you pushed all thoughts about him from your head, knowing how wrong they were. The tension between you and Anakin has been growing every day, and soon you realized he cared about you more than he should. You tried to force yourself to be just a master to him and nothing more, but there was just something about him. About the way he looked up at you every time you stood close to him, the way his breath caught in his throat when you touched him while helping him with his lightsaber. Anakin has always been very cocky and sarcastic toward everyone but you. To him, you were so much more. Someone he would do anything for, even though he knew you didn't feel the same about him. Which was a lie. A shameful lie.

It was after midnight, and you finally went to bed. You knew you needed to rest because you had to go back to Coruscant in the morning. After a while, you closed your eyes, getting ready for the much-needed sleep; however, there was something making you unable to fall asleep. Deep down, you felt that Anakin wasn't sleeping. You rolled your eyes and got out of bed. You walked out of your tent and headed to his. He was probably still awake, working on some scrap, completely forgetting about time. Normally, you'd let him do whatever he wanted with his free time, but you needed him to focus on hiding his feelings tomorrow since you had a meeting with the Jedi Council. After finally reaching his tent, you didn't wait for anything and just simply walked in, pushing the heavy material from your face. Your eyes took a second to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, you just stood there. In front of you was Anakin in his bed, panting heavily as he stroked his cock. His head was buried deep in his pillows, so he didn't hear you coming. You just stared at him as he pleasured himself, unable to move.

,,Anakin?" You finally spoke, and he almost jumped. Your eyes met, and his face instantly turned white. You expected him to quickly cover himself, while he would apologize multiple times, but instead he whined. His hand was still stroking his cock as he was watching you now. 

,,Master please" He whined out, and your heart almost dropped to your stomach. You were caught so off guard, you genuinely couldn't think of what you should do. Another moan from him brought you back to reality.

,,Please master, it hurts" He almost whispered, and you felt your body moving closer to him. When you were standing directly next to him, his free hand reached for yours, tightly squeezing it afterward. Your eyes traveled from his face to his naked chest, his strong abs and then his cock. He softly whined as he saw you staring at it. You were fighting an inner battle. You desperately wanted to touch him, but you also knew that you'd be crossing a line you could never cross back. After some time, you made up your mind and got on your knees in front of his bed. With no hesitation, he sat up, placing his legs next to you, basically caging you. You put your hands on his thighs, and his hands went to your hair. 

,,Anakin, this has to stay between us" You told him, and he impatiently nodded, pushing your head closer to his crotch. You took a deep breath before grabbing his thick cock. He was so incredibly sensitive that even the smallest touch from you made him almost cum. You licked his pulsing tip while looking at him through your lashes. A loud moan escaped his pretty lips, and you wrapped your lips around him. After some time of just teasing his tip, you finally licked his whole shaft before fully sucking him off. His cock was thick and long, making you unable to fit him whole, so you helped yourself with your hands. His head was thrown back while his mouth was open. This is more than he ever dreamed of. You were purposely sucking him off at a very slow pace. Soon, you felt his hips buckle into your throat in a desperate move to make you go faster. You dug your fingers into his thighs, making him know he didn't have that sort of power over you. However, since he was so good for you, moaning so nicely, you sped up your pace, focusing his tip every time you went up. 

,,M-Master" He fought hard to say even a single word, and you knew why. His breathing was heavy, and his cock started to twitch inside your mouth. Shortly after that, his hands squeezed your hair more tightly before his warm cum painted the inside of your throat. Anakin bit his lower lip painfully to stop himself from moaning too loud. When you knew he had given you all he had, you cleaned his tip with your tongue before swallowing his cum. He was looking down at you with so much love in his eyes. After a while, you stood up and his hands caught yours. Neither of you knew what to say.

,,Thank you, master" He said while looking up at you now. You nodded with a soft smile before running your fingers through his hair.

,,Go to sleep Anakin" You said before you felt sadness consume his body. You had to go before something more would happen. With quick steps, you left his tent and went back to yours, checking if anyone was out. You sat down on your bed with a loud thud before putting your face in your hands. This was so wrong. Your mind was quickly filled with images of his face as he came into your mouth. With a deep breath, you fell into your bed and forced yourself to fall asleep.