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kisses4reid · 8 months ago

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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid series

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yourgothiccqueen · 8 months ago

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LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

��————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

#lando norris #landonorris #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando Norris oneshot #lando Norris imagine #lando Norris fanfic #FYP #lando Norris x female reader #f1 imagine #lando Norris x you #f1 smut #lando Norris fluff

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earlysunshines · 4 months ago

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like you used to

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; angst

synopsis: it’s raining it’s pouring no old man is snoring and you've run into your ex-girlfriend (aka the love of your life) after a year.

warnings: reader used to have bad habits (smoking, alcohol) ; sana is a sweetheart ; reader is avoidant ; ex's to...? ; my attempt at angst, not my forte... ; anything else I didn't mention

a/n: hey! so all i do is lie (change my mind too often) anyways this one is short I just had a random burst of motivation :-p feeling edgy, don’t expect more this is spontaneous;-;

one thing about where you live is that there’s always unexpected surprises — in this case, the weather went from partly cloudy at 5pm to sudden thunder and lightning.

great.

no umbrella, a drenched shoulder bag, and soaked clothes cling to you as you dash for cover. when you finally find refuge at the bus stop, there’s another surprise waiting for you.

light brown hair dampened by the rain, a side profile more beautiful than flowers in bloom, and a soft smile that could captivate you for centuries: minatozaki sana.

“shit,” you mutter under your breath, running under the roof of the stop.

patting down your blazer and pleated pants, sana turns and widens her eyes slightly. you meet her halfway, meeting her gaze and shrinking despite being a few centimeters taller.

she gasps – almost. “y/n?”

“sana,” you tighten your jaw, feeling a knot in your stomach. “hi.”

“you’re drenched.” she points out the obvious, rushing to pull out a handkerchief in her purse. “come here.” she says, stepping closer.

you flinch, stepping back a bit and sana frowns.

“it’s fine, it’s nothing.” you assure, feeling stiff in your place. “use it for yourself.”

“i’m not as soaked as you are.”

“it’s fine, sana.” you add firmly, clutching the strap of your bag and wiping water off your cheeks.

even when you turn back to face the road, attempting to dry yourself with your wet blazer, sana continues to stare. you feel her eyes piercing through you, the same sweet eyes that would look at you like you were her world before you messed up. you want to shrivel up and disappear, every second beside her is grueling.

you make the mistake of glancing back at her again, she’s somehow prettier than two seconds ago – and after a year of avoiding her.

sana’s wearing a white dress with a white cardigan on top; everything she has on is pretty damp, so you assume she got luckier and found cover quicker than you. she has on light makeup, nothing too crazy, but either way, she’d still have you staring. her hair – now slightly wet – is clipped up with a bow, making her look like some sort of princess. a small sigh leaves your lips as you break away from her.

“the rain won’t stop anytime soon, how will you get home?” she asks you, voice sweet and careful.

“bus.”

“i heard they’re delayed for thirty minutes.”

“i can wait.” you reply, staring at the ground. “it’s nothing.”

she sighs, then steps closer to you and holds your wrist. she grabs your attention again, both your eyes meeting in eye contact that makes your heartache; she has that effect.

“y/n,” she stays sternly, “i called an uber ten minutes ago, you’re coming with me.”

“no i’m not sana.”

“yes you are.” her grip on your forearm tightens, making you gulp lightly.

you stare at her through your overgrown, wet bangs that cling to your forehead, sighing softly. the handkerchief she had in her hand now draws closer to your face. she gently uses it to wipe away the water from your forehead, cheeks, and nose. her touch is tender, and her eyes focus intently on you, making your heart flutter in your chest.

surrender is your first option – your only option.

“okay.”

–

sana’s apartment is as homey as you remember, the same couch you’d talk and makeout for hours on is still clean and fresh.

she steps in first, kicking off her loafers and walking towards the kitchen island.

“come.” she says, and you follow without a word, taking off your own shoes and hanging your bag up on the rack you used to.

you follow and sit down at the chair she’d used to sit at when you cooked for her, playing chef and cracking stupid jokes as you fixed her a simple pasta. her place used to be a haven from whatever you had going on, but now it’s dissolving you with every second passing by.

sana disappears for a moment, giving you a brief respite. you take this time to try and recompose yourself, staring at the marble counter in front of you. despite your efforts to push them down, memories you tried so hard to lock away from the light resurface, flooding your mind and making your heart ache with their intensity.

“here,” you jump at the soft sound of sana’s voice, looking up to see her handing you a towel – your towel.

“thank you.” grabbing it, you pat yourself down. sana hands you shorts and a t-shirt, also yours.

“you never came back to get them.” she mumbles, sitting down next to you and searching for something in your eyes. “you know that?”

“i do.”

“mhm.” she looks even deeper, twisting you from the inside and out. “you should change.”

you nod.

–

by the time you finish changing, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror for a moment too long, lost in a brief moment of reminiscing. shaking off the memories, you finally return to the kitchen, feeling all too much at once.

there’s a candle lit and hot ginger tea on the counter in sana’s favorite mug. she’s leaning against the counter near the stove, staring at her own cup.

you sit down and place both hands on either side of the mug. sana hums softly, “you should drink some, you’ll get sick.”

“it’s fine, i’ll get going soon anyway.”

“no you won’t.”

“and you’re the one who’s in charge of that?”

“stay the night, it’s not like you haven’t before y/n.” she sighs, looking at you with hurt in her features. “besides, i won’t let you go back. if you do, i know just seeing me will prompt you to drink and drink, maybe you’ll even light a cigarette or two if you’re sober enough to pull them out the pack.” she spits, sending a dagger through your chest.

you try to respond, but your throat dries up in the process. instead, you take a sip of the tea, not uttering a single word.

the air is weighed down with a palpable tension, like the elephant in the room sits on top of you two.

she sets her mug down, then walks over to lean against the counter in front of you, watching your head hang lower and hands run to the back of your neck.

“i’m sorry.”

“you should be.”

leaving with nothing but a note, a text, and then blocking her? sana deserves more than a sorry, but she’s grateful that you’re muttering it at all.

“i couldn’t face you.” you feel your throat closing in on itself again. “i don’t want you to be stuck on me.”

“y/n, i love you, nothing is ever going to change that even after you ghosted me.”

the whole reason you did all of that was simple: you’re an insecure, avoidant coward.

sana was and still is set up on a pedestal, one that would take lightyears to climb. she's beautiful, cunning, charming, and caring. you had never known anyone as loving as her. it was dangerous having a person so cozy and warm jump into your life when you've always been so cold and uneasy.

two years with sana were enough to create memories that would make you smile just thinking about them, but they could also send you into a spiral.

lingering in your mind were thoughts screaming for you to leave her, insisting you weren't enough and that she would be better off without you. it wasn’t jealousy of anyone else, you were too clouded with your flaws to care about that; it was the belief that you should dig yourself into a ditch so sana would realize she shouldn’t waste her time on someone like you.

she witnessed your moments of weakness. once a month, you'd drink until you couldn’t formulate a thought, and smoke to avoid confronting your problems and the personal hassles you hid from her. the monthly occurrence turned into a bimonthly thing, and then weekly nearing the end of your relationship. and still, sana would be by your side each time, making sure you were okay.

you were an asshole, and you had to pry yourself away from her somehow.

“just give up sana.”

“y/n,” you feel hands on your cheeks, cupping them and tilting your head up to meet her face sculpted by the angels above. “stop that.”

your brows upturn. “you stop that.”

“i’m not doing anything.”

“that’s the problem.”

sana rubs your cheeks like she used to, her long nail just barely grazing your skin in the process. you sink in your place, eyes avoiding hers.

“we don’t have to talk about it now, but stay. i want you safe, even if it’s just for tonight.”

“don’t do this to yourself, you’ll only hurt more.”

“there’s nothing that hurts more than knowing you’ll have a fever, it’s okay.”

without warning, she leans in, hugging you softly. sana’s warmth and softness envelop you, and you feel like you’ll freeze her, turning her rigid with your coldness.

sana feels your body go stiff, but when she rubs her back, you’re already sinking into her. she’s spent time to take care of herself, but nothing beats the way she cares for you, or just the feeling of being with you.

you had your flaws, but sana saw right past them and into your heart.

even if you didn’t think it, you were sana’s rock. sweet and caring, a sight for sore eyes, and the warmth she needed after a long day. she could talk to you about anything, and you’d be there to listen and soothe her worries, your smile easily easing the tension in her shoulders.

after countless tries (well, two, because sana couldn’t see anyone but you after that setup with momo’s friend on a whim), she had accepted that no one else could fill your spot in her life.

she feels tears soaking the material of her t-shirt, hearing you sniffle lightly into her.

sana pulls away, holding your face again. she looks at you with a mix of pity, regret, anger, and sorrow, maybe a little relief too. you’re back with her, she’s unsure of whether or not you’re still as vulnerable, but it doesn’t matter.

“it’s okay.”

“i’m an asshole.”

“you are,” she agrees, then wipes a tear from your eye. “but everyone has their reasons.”

she lets you stain her shirt with a few more tears before gently coaxing you to join her on the couch. it will take a long time to rebuild what you once had, but sana is willing to try, and you are too—especially when she holds you close, her hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

you’ve always thought you didn’t deserve her.

but sana won’t let you let go so easily. she refuses to back down without a fight, and neither will you – not this time.

#sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #twice sana

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

Hi mae! I love eveything you write!! Kind of in a similar vein to doctor!remus i wanted to request poly!marauders where they are emt’s and they respond to a call where reader is injured and when they arrive to help reader is just super flustered and shy because there are three very sweet and attractive and charming men she doesn’t know taking care of her

Thanks lovely!

part 1 | part 2

Cw: car accident aftermath, concussion, blood, and definitely some smutty implications but nothing that would fluster your grandmother, also maybe don’t read if medical inaccuracies will piss you off because I can almost guarantee this is riddled with them (I am but a girl)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

Someone else must have called emergency services, because the first thing you hear is sirens. Your car is smoky—that can’t be safe, can it?—and you ache, and the shaking of your hands makes them frustratingly inefficient at undoing the buckle of your seatbelt.

The sirens get louder and then stop. The ruckus you can hear but not see outside of your smashed windshield increases, and there’s a warm wetness on your face, getting in your eyes. You reach up to swipe at it. The door next to you opens.

“Hi.” A curly mop of hair attached to a smiling face pops in your driver’s door. “How we doing?”

You inhale shakily. “All right.”

His grin goes lopsided, brown eyes skimming over your form. “Well, at least you’ve got a good attitude. We’re gonna get you out of here in just a second, but first can you tell me what’s hurting you?”

You blink. Things seem to be moving oddly slowly. Every inch of you trembles. “Is my car going to blow up?”

The paramedic’s eyebrows raise. You hear something on your opposite side but can’t be bothered to look. “We don’t think so. Are you asking because of the powder?”

He must mean the smoky stuff swirling about your car. You try to nod, but it hurts, and the man puts a gloved hand to your neck to stop you.

“No no, don’t move,” he cautions.

“That’s just powder from the airbags,” a voice on your other side says, and the paramedic makes a small sound of protest when you turn your head to find it. There’s another one leaning in the open door on your passenger side. He’s got fluffy brown hair lighter than the first’s and a large scar on one side of his face which stretches as his eyebrows bunch. “Can you tell us what hurts, please?”

“My head,” you answer, bringing a quivering hand to your breastbone. “A—and my chest.”

“No pain in your neck or back?” The first, darker paramedic asks, and when you confirm he nods approvingly. “Well, some of that might come later, but that’s good enough for now. All right, sweetheart, do you think you can stand?”

“Yeah,” you say, sounding uncertain even to your own ears. He grasps your forearm in one hand while wrapping another around your back, helping you out of your seat.

As soon as you’re through the door there’s another set of gloved hands on your opposite arm. You look up to see a third man, slighter than the others, helping the first carry you a short distance to a gurney.

And daylight is something else. Your head and chest hurt worse than before, but it doesn’t help that you very nearly stop breathing when you take in the sight of the three paramedics who have surrounded you.

“Can you tell us what you remember from the accident?” The second one, the one who’d come through your passenger door—you can see in the sunlight that he has more scars than just the one, though he’s no less beautiful for it—asks. There’s a gentleness to the set of his brows as he frowns at you, pressing something to your forehead.

A policeman makes to approach you, and the curly-headed one turns, taking on a sternness that doesn’t suit him as he wards the other man off with a hand and a few quiet words.

“Hey.” The scarred paramedic brings your attention back to him. “Do you know what happened?”

“I…” Fuck, you can’t tell if you’re woozy from whatever’s happening with your head or just the attention from the three of them. They’re moving you, other people and cars passing in your periphery as they wheel the gurney towards an ambulance. “I wrecked my car?”

The third paramedic laughs, the sound sharp and crisp despite the general fuzziness surrounding you. He’s got longish, inky black hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “It’s not a trick question, dollface. And the state of your car isn’t really what we’re worried about right now.”

“Sirius,” the scarred one chides. You think distantly that Sirius is an odd name. Unique and pretty-sounding. “Do you remember if you fell asleep, love?”

You want to shrink away from his attentive stare, but his hand on your forehead holds you in place. “I’m not sure,” you say. “Was there—are the people in the other car okay?”

“Pretty sure she was just waking up when I got to her,” the first paramedic says, curls bouncing slightly as he stations himself by your feet and helps lift the gurney into the back of the ambulance. “Yeah, sweetheart, everyone else is alright. Might be a bit sore tomorrow, but signing refusals of treatment as we speak. Do you feel sick?”

Actually, maybe it’s the speed of the conversation that’s making you woozy. “No?”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” he jokes. “That’s okay, just let us know if you do.” He flashes you another dazzling smile.

You think you might return it, but then light hits your eyes and you wince instead.

“You’re okay,” the dark haired one—Sirius, you remember—reassures you. “I’m just going to shine this in your eyes really quickly. Try to keep them open for me?”

You do your best, and he works swiftly as promised, flashing the bright white beam into one eye and then the other before clicking it off with a gentle pat to your knee.

“Definitely concussed,” he says to the other two. Excellent.

“Okay, I’m just going to close this up for now,” the scarred one explains, voice low and soothing as he removes whatever he’s been holding to your head. “It looks like you’ll need stitches, but I need to stop the bleeding until we can get those done, yeah? It might feel like little pinches.”

“Okay,” you say, voice embarrassingly shaky from the tender way he’s holding your head in his hands. “Thank you.”

He smiles. The effect is dizzying, scars pulling taut as the severity melts from his features. “You’re welcome, lovely,” he says softly. “How’d this happen, then? Did you hit your head on the steering wheel?”

You try to remember. “I guess so. I’m…not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Sirius promises you. “James, can you check out that chest pain while I get a pulse?”

The first one, who hasn’t seemed to stop smiling despite what you consider a fairly grim circumstance—though you imagine it might be run-of-the-mill in his line of work—steps to your side. The three of them move around each other so fluidly, like they can anticipate the other’s movements. Practice, you suppose. “All right, darling,” he says, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a self-assuredness you can’t relate to, and your face warms in response, “do you mind if I move your top down a bit so I can have a look?”

You feel suddenly lightheaded. You try to nod, but the scarred one tsks at you, holding your head still with lithe fingers as he works on your cut. Thankfully, James seems to catch your meaning anyway. He’s exceedingly gentle as he wraps his fingers around the neckline of your top, pulling it into a V in the center of your chest. You follow it down with your gaze. The red line that stretches diagonally across the flat of your chest feels somewhat anticlimactic considering the deep ache that emanates from it, but James hisses sympathetically.

“Ow,” Sirius agrees. “Yeah, looks like the seatbelt got you.”

You try very, very hard not to think about how they’re all looking at your naked chest, all speaking to you so kindly, all touching you in their different ways. If you think too hard about any of it, you might actually die.

“Tell me if this hurts, alright?” James looks at you before pressing down lightly with his palm.

You start to gasp from the pain but then that hurts even worse, and your face scrunches in agony.

“Sorry, sorry.” He removes his hand hastily, putting your top back in place. “All done with that, love. It hurts when you breathe in, huh?”

“Yeah,” you affirm croakily.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says again, touching your shoulder with an apologetic smile. You’d never been mad, but you go ahead and forgive him anyway for looking at you so sweetly. “I’m going to feel if your ribs are broken, okay? I won’t push down again.”

You don’t have the breath to give an assent and he doesn’t wait for one, slipping a large palm under your shirt—what you wouldn’t give to have that happen under different circumstances—and feeling about your sides tenderly.

The scarred paramedic’s touch lifts from your forehead. “Okay, that’s all set. Let’s get you out of here, hm?”

“You driving, Rem?” Sirius asks, and you notice he’s finished taking your pulse but hasn’t let go of your hand, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist soothingly.

“Mhm,” the scarred one—Rem—replies, putting away some supplies. “Did you confirm she’s in shock?”

“Yup.”

“Start an IV,” Rem instructs, and Sirius scoffs like yeah, I know and waves him off. You almost laugh at the easy familiarity of it.

“Why do you think I’m in shock?” you ask as Rem hops out the back, presumably going to the driver’s side.

Sirius softens. “Your pulse is a riot, pretty girl. Plus, you’re shaking like a leaf and you’ve gone a tiny bit blue” —he taps your lips with his forefinger— “right here.”

You could pass out now. That’d be alright with you.

James straightens, having already run his fingers probingly over both your sides. “Alright, we might have a couple of small fractures, but nothing too dire. Can I see your arm, love?”

You give it to him unthinkingly, but tense when he starts feeling about the soft crook of your elbow with overly kind fingers. You’d think the effect of his touch would have diminished after he’d finished feeling you up underneath your shirt, but evidently not.

“You’re okay.” Sirius mistakes your shyness for nervousness about the IV, wrapping his fingers around your chin and turning you gently to face him. His cupid bow flattens when he gives you a small smile and a shorter piece of his dark hair has slipped free of its confines, brushing his cheekbone. “You’re okay, doll. Jamie’s a pro, yeah? Just keep your eyes on me.”

Well, if he’s gonna insist.

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j2hoes · 4 months ago

Text

Intimate Treasures. (Steve Harrington x Adult Store Worker!Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

Y/N works in an adult store and Steve can't seem to stay away.

Warning: Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus (m and f receiving), dirty talk, knife kink, sex toys, mature language

Weekdays were always slow at Intimate Treasures, most people either working their regular 9-5’s or simply too embarrassed to be caught in an adult store mid week. Opting to discreetly shop on a Friday or Saturday night, hoping nobody will catch them. I often find myself amused by the actions of our customers, ninety percent of which seem to be ashamed of themselves for purchasing such ‘dirty’ products, as they like to call them.

Upon the opening of the store, many citizens of Hawkins were vocal of their displeasure at the presence of such a place. Believing that there was no place in the town for us. They argued that by opening within the Starcourt Mall, we would be indoctrinating their children into believing that sex is something that should be enjoyed and explored freely. Rather than an act of love that should only be taking place once married for the sole purpose of reproduction. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve argued with people about this, lecturing them on the importance of sexual liberation and safety rather than shaming people for their choices.

It was during one of these arguments that I met him for the first time. Wrapped up in a heated debate with none other than the local priest who was offering to save me from hell, I almost missed the mop of fluffy brown hair that hesitantly crossed the threshold of the store. He was trying to act casual, as though being here was no big deal, but I could tell he was nervous. Fumbled movements causing him to almost knock over a display of free condoms. To which he pocketed a few in the shorts of his little sailor outfit.

“What you are doing here in this store is sinful, I am only looking out for you young lady.” My eyes snap back to the priest who is glancing around the place in utter disgust, one hand gripping the cross around his neck, the other clutching a Bible.

“If you think this is sinful, you should see what I do in bed, old man.”

Despite losing sight of the sailor, I hear a muffled laugh coming from down one of the aisles and I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not necessarily alone in this argument.

“You could be doing so much more with your life! You don’t need this filth, the Lord can set you on the right path if you would just let me cleanse you of your impurity.” The man pleads, his words failing to provide the impact he is hoping for.

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean towards the priest, hoping he pays attention to me. “Listen, I know for a fact that the Bible doesn’t specifically mention anything about sex toys or masturbation and not all of us are lucky enough to be in a relationship. Though I’m sure your wife isn’t exactly thrilled with her sex life.”

He gasps at my words, shuffling towards the door whilst muttering about ‘young dirty girls of today’.

“Be sure to send your wife in, her first vibrator is on me!”

As the door swings closed behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Completely fed up of having the same arguments over and over again. My eyes fall back down to the stack of boxes by my feet, filled to the brim with new lingerie sets that need putting out on the shop floor.

Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly add the inventory to the system before hanging the black latex to the hangers. I won’t deny, it’s a gorgeous set. Shiny black bralette, so thin that the strap of fabric is only big enough to cover the nipple, with a matching thong, which also happens to be just as small. It leaves very little to the imagination, and I would be tempted to spend my paycheck on it, had I anybody to wear it for.

Finding a spot in one of the aisles, I begin to hang the various sizes on the wall. Careful to make sure that they’re all in size order so that they’re easy to find. A shuffle of feet towards the end of the aisle pulls me from my thoughts, the sailor intently staring at different wand vibrators. Every few seconds picking one up before putting it back with a shake of his head.

“Need some help?” I ask, hanging the last of the lingerie up and strolling towards him.

His eyes widen as I stand next to him, a deep red blush rising on his cheeks and I can’t help but smile softly at his awkwardness. I’m never one to assume, though I’m fairly certain this may be his first time in any adult stores. If his blush is anything to go by.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Something for your girlfriend?” I push, the question slips off my tongue easily, one I generally ask all the male customers that look in need of assistance, yet something in me is praying that he answers with a no.

I won’t deny that he’s attractive, even with the unfortunate attire that he appears to be sporting. He has a boyish look about him due to the costume, it’s cute and soft. However, his chestnut brown eyes are dark and I can tell that he is very much a man.

“No, no girlfriend.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he does so I’m able to catch a quick glimpse and notice the large size, backs of his palms displaying very prominent veins and I can’t help but squeeze my legs at the sight.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me. Never usually finding someone so attractive upon meeting for the first time, yet I’m practically drooling over the man in front of me. Even if I am putting on a very cool front.

“This is kind of awkward to admit but I wanted a vibrator you know for when I do have girls over. Just for something different I guess, in case my performance doesn’t cut it.”

I’m taken aback by his admission, most men refusing to believe they couldn’t be absolutely incredible in bed and insisting they’re only getting a toy because their wife wouldn’t stop pestering. To have a man so open about possibly not being perfect is refreshing and I realize I’m most definitely going to need some ice cold water then this customer leaves.

“Oh wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” I tell him, moving slightly closer to the wall of products in order to assist him as best I can. Carefully, I grab a hot pink box, offering it to him. “So this is the newest wand vibrator we have, it has three different settings and a very long battery life. Trust me any girl would love it, it only took me about five minutes to cum when I used it for the first time.”

His eyes are focused on the box, teeth catching his bottom lip as he reads the information on the back. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, truly reading everything about the product in his hands. Something about him intrigues me, whether it be the sailor outfit or the fact that he truly cares about his sexual partners, I’m not sure.

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time that the interesting sailor entered the store was only two days later. A Thursday evening, most of the stores in the mall were closing for the day, not us however. Opting to stay open later for more of a sense of privacy.

I’m idly flipping through one of the latest editions of Playboy magazine, staring down at the women sprawled out on the pages. They ooze confidence and sex appeal, something I could only dream of. Whilst I wouldn’t say I necessarily lack confidence, I most certainly do not have a string of guys desperate for my attention like the women in the magazine.

Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts as I turn the page, it’s only when a handful of products are placed on the countertop that I glance up. Boredom evident on my face, I’m counting down the minutes until I can close the store and head home for the night. That is, until I realize who the customer is.

“I didn’t think girls were into Playboy.”

Running a hand through his perfectly styled brown mane, he smiles at me as he speaks and I struggle to hide my excitement at his return. Though there is still a hint of red on his cheeks, he seems calmer this time, clearly less embarrassed by his visit.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but we don’t exactly stock academic reading material.” I joke, beginning to ring the items through the till.

Bottle of lube, metal handcuffs and black bondage tape. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to the kinky items that I ring out on a daily basis. Yet, something about the handsome sailor buying them has me weak at the knees and I have to look anywhere other than his face as I bag everything for him.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you by the way.” Finally making eye contact with the man, I can’t hide my confusion at his words. “For your help last time, the vibrator was a big hit.”

“Oh right yeah. No problem at all, I’m glad I could offer my assistance.”

My smile falters, why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be jealous, I should be pleased that I could help another customer. Pleased that I’m allowing others to enjoy their wants and desires. However, something about knowing the stranger has already used my suggestion on another woman hurts. I sound desperate, it’s not like me to get hung up on a man I have only briefly interacted with twice and yet here I am.

“No seriously, it was the most intense hook up I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you.” He rummages through his pockets as he speaks, before sliding a piece of paper across the countertop.

Free ice cream on me - Steve.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy, figured I owed you one.”

“Now the sailor outfit makes sense.” I laugh softly, carefully folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.

“I know. It sucks, does not help me woo the ladies at all.” He smiles bashfully, handing me the cash to pay for the products.

“I think it’s cute.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop myself and my head drops to the floor, shaking it lightly, humiliated by what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it’s just-”

“Good to know, I’ll see you later.” He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my name, as he makes his way towards the exit.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

The moment the door closes behind him, I slide to the carpeted floor, head in my hands, afraid I may have just completely made a fool of myself in front of Steve. Doing my best to get over how mortified I feel, I quickly stride to the door and flip the sign to closed, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of any more customers tonight, even if I am technically supposed to be open for another hour and a half.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I swear to God John, if you take these home and add them to your wank bank, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

This week seems to be one embarrassing event after the next, standing in nothing but the new micro black latex lingerie, I pose awkwardly in front of the only blank wall in the building, allowing the store owner to take photos of me on the polaroid.

“Listen, we need to advertise what we have on offer, putting these pictures in the window is bound to gain more customers. Not to mention the added benefit of being served by the hot girl plastered in the window.” He states as though it's obvious, shoving a large kitchen knife into my hand which I take reluctantly. “Now spread those legs and lick the knife.”

Dropping to a squat, I spread my legs wide open, raising the knife to my mouth and seductively licking a stripe down the edge, careful not to cut myself. I may as well be completely naked with how little the lingerie covers, moving the knife to cover my vagina, I feign a gasp as he snaps another photo.

“You’re a natural, I’ll put these in the window and then I’m off for the night.”

I throw the knife on to the counter as I watch with folded arms how John sticks up the photos by the door. No doubt we’ll have complaints as each photo has me in increasingly compromised positions. It’s borderline pornographic.

Catching glimpses of the photos every couple of seconds, I can admit that I do look good. Incredibly good. They’re sexy and I feel empowered, it’s just a shame that they have to be on display for everybody to see. I’m all for being sexually liberated, I’m just not sure I believe everybody should be allowed to see me in such a vulnerable environment.

John leaves with a quick wave in my direction, flipping the sign on his way out so that I can finish my closing tasks in peace. Throwing myself down on the couch beside the window, I feel the shame start to flood my body. I begin to feel dirty and used, allowing my boss to take advantage of the fact that I have to follow his orders.

Is this how the women in Playboy feel? Never once have I questioned if selling dirty magazines is unethical, believing that the woman in them felt free and proud that they can be so open and sexual. Now I’m starting to think that perhaps that isn’t the case.

With my head resting against the back of the couch and my eyes fixated on the uneven tiles on the ceiling, I hear the door click open beside me. Internally sighing, I don’t avert my gaze as I speak.

“We’re closed!” Voice snappier than I intended it to be, however, I make no effort to apologize.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be here.”

Swinging my head to face the direction of the door, I match the voice to the speaker. Steve stands awkwardly in the entryway, eyes trailing over my body as I stand to greet him. His mouth drops open slightly, rubbing a hand over his plump cherry lips. Glancing down, I remember that I’m still only wearing the lingerie and heat floods my body.

“Shit, sorry. One second.”

I awkwardly jog to the back of the store as best I can in the heels strapped to my feet, I’m careful to wrap the long satin robe tightly around myself before making my way back over to Steve. Who stands in the same spot, unmoving. Eyes focused on me as I lean against the counter, arms crossed over my body in an effort to keep the robe covering me.

“So what can I help you with?” I ask, voice shaking every so slightly due to the interaction only moments ago.

“You look incredible in that.”

Although my eyes are firmly fixated on the ground, I smile nervously at his words. Hearing the shuffle of his feet, I look up only to see him standing just a couple of feet away from me. Clad in his sailor uniform once again, I allow myself to gaze over his physique. Thick legs that wear the shorts well, tight in all the right places. Arms defined showing off the muscles he has built. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I round the counter, hoping that the distance between us will ease the ache between my thighs.

“Steve I really should be closing, did you need help with something?”

I notice his eyes fall to his shorts, an impressive tent having formed and I have to hold my breath so as not to drop straight to my knees. Without a word, he slowly reaches across the counter, gently knocking the robe from my shoulders, exposing me to him once again.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” He speaks quietly, so quiet I almost don’t catch it.

There’s a look of animalistic hunger on his face, one that is new to me. A stark contrast to the boyish smile he usually sports. Within seconds he’s leaning across the counter, capturing his lips with mine, one hand tightly grasping the back of my neck for support, whilst I grip at his shirt. His kiss is fuelled by passion and while it’s rough there’s a feeling of comfort that I can’t describe.

Without thinking, I’m striding back around the counter, pushing him backwards so that he flops down on the couch. Allowing me to take a seat on his lap, his erection firmly pressed in between my thighs, if I weren’t so focused on the moment, I’d most certainly be embarrassed by the wetness that begins to drip down my thighs.

Grinding myself slightly, I tug at his top, pulling it over his head quickly before throwing it behind me. His lips attach to my neck and I can feel him sucking gently, determined to leave a mark. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, sparking a fire in his eyes as he grips my hips, guiding them to roll over his clothed length even harder.

His fingers move with haste as he works at the knot holding the flimsy bralette together, prying it off my body the moment the ties become loose. Grabbing his jaw, I pull his face back to mine, kissing him with burning desire as his hands move to palm my breasts. Our tongues entwine as his fingers brush over my nipple, releasing a soft gasp from me, to which he takes advantage. Dipping his head to suck and bite marks into my chest, I grab his hair tugging softly with every moan that he extracts from my body.

I can hear a groan escape his mouth, to which he covers it up quickly by dragging his tongue over my nipple. His hands playing with the other so as not to focus all his attention solely on one. Steve sucks gently, drawing unholy moan after moan from my body as I continue to feel the heat between our bodies.

Tipping my head back and pushing my breasts further into him, I find myself pushing a hand between our bodies. Slipping under his shorts and offering a short squeeze, causing the man to murmur a soft fuck as he continues to play with my nipples. From feeling his length in my hand, I can tell he’s big, bigger than I anticipated and much bigger than I’ve ever had. It scares me equally as much as it excites me.

It’s only when I begin to start delicately stroking up and down, that he pushes me to the side. Throwing me onto the couch gently so that I am laid on my back with him standing over me. As he smiles down at me, I can’t help but find the contrast between his soft smile and the dominance he has just been displaying amusing. A cheeky grin evident on my face.

“Where’s that knife?” He asks, fingers brushing over my throat as he stares down at me.

“Knife?”

“From the pictures.”

Nodding my head towards the countertop, I watch eagerly as he grabs it, clenching my thighs together as my mind drifts to what he is going to do with it. Much to my surprise, he gently pulls my body up so that I’m sat upright, before settling on his knees between my thighs. Pushing the thong to the side, he presses the blunt side of the knife to my heat, trailing it between my folds. When he removes it, it glimmers with the slick that is now definitely dripping onto the couch.

“Lick it.” He raises the knife to my mouth and I brush my tongue against it as directed, immensely turned on by the entire situation. “You’re such a good girl.”

If his words didn’t make me moan, I do when his tongue makes contact with my clit. Head falling back as I close my eyes, focused only on the pleasure he is giving me. Despite not having my eyes open, I am acutely aware of Steve reaching up to my throat and holding the sharp side of the knife directly on my neck. Pushing it gently, though not so much to draw blood.

“God, you’re such a good girl.”

He switches between sucking and licking my clit, his free hand moving to push two fingers into me ever so slowly. The sounds are inherently sinful, the way he’s lapping up everything I can offer him is downright filthy and yet I feel like I’m in heaven. He devours me as though I’m his last meal, moaning against me, vibrations adding to the already exhilarating pleasure I’m experiencing. God, if this is what he can do with his tongue, there was no reason for him to buy a vibrator.

As he continues to push his fingers into me at an unruly pace, his tongue swirls circles against my clit, pushing me further and further to the edge. My stomach feels tighter and I try to close my thighs, though he reacts by pushing the knife closer to my throat, reminding me of its presence.

“Holy fuck.” I whisper, coil within me snapping and my legs twitching as he continues to lick up anything I have left.

With a pleased grin, he pulls himself away from me, rising to his feet and even in my post orgasm daze, I drop to my knees. Hurriedly pulling his shorts down to his ankles, I grab his erection with both hands. Mouth falling open in shock as I wrap both my hands around him.

“Jesus Christ.” My voice is almost silent yet Steve still hears me, chuckling at my words.

“You gonna be able to handle it?” He asks and I waste no time in nodding, gazing up at him, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah you are.”

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I hesitantly lick from the tip to the base, mouth watering as I hear Steve’s breaths become shakier. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I slowly begin to bob my head up and down, unable to take the whole thing but trying my hardest. I allow myself to coat his member with my spit, using my hands to stroke whatever I can’t fit in my mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily with a deep guttural moan and I can’t help but gag, eyes watering as he hits the back of my throat.

Pulling back with a gasp for air, I continue to stroke him with one hand, the other reaching for his balls. As I lean in to go for round two with my mouth, he grabs my hair softly, pulling me to look up at him. With mascara streaks running down my and saliva falling from one corner of my mouth, Steve smirks.

“I’d let you do that forever if I wasn’t so desperate to feel you.”

He helps me up, pushing my body over the countertop, before pulling the thong off me completely. I spread my legs for him, allowing him to see the effect he has on me, he circles my clit with one finger as his other hand grips his length. The tip smacking against me as he nervously rubs it over my hole.

“Steve please, I want you so bad.” I beg, feeling myself clenching around nothing as he teases me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He cautiously pushes the tip into me, my hands gripping the wood of the countertop at the stretch and I squeal slightly, from a mixture of pleasure and pain. “My perfect girl.”

He continues to push himself inside of me for what feels like an eternity, just when I think I’ve taken him all, he pushes further. I’ll admit it has been a while and with Steve’s size, the stretch burns and yet I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me forever.

The gentleman he is, he stills once completely sheathed within me, awaiting confirmation from me that he is able to move.

“Steve please fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and instantly pulls himself out, almost completely before slamming back into me. Balls slapping against my clit in a way that teases me as he practically rips me in half. One hand pushes on my back, firmly holding me down against the counter as he continues to pound into me. The other grips my hip, knife still in hand though neither of us seem to pay any attention to it.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.” He states between moans, slamming into me at an almost brutal pace.

I’m able to slip one of my hands between the wooden surface and my body, bringing it to the space between my legs and gently teasing my clit, resulting in a string of profanities falling from my lips. Steve notices this and bats my hand away, taking over himself. His fingers are like magic and combined with the way he is ramming himself into me, I can feel myself on the brink of cumming once again.

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so close.”

Upon hearing this, he pulls my body upright, peppering kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck as he continues to drill into me at the same rough pace. Within a matter of seconds, I find vision spotting as I fall over the edge. Thighs sticky and wet with the remnants of my second orgasm. Steve allows me to fall back onto the countertop, continuing his assault on my vagina and the overstimulation drives me crazy. I’m a complete moaning mess and by the time he stills with a soft grunt, I have even more tears in my eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, pulling out of me gently and pressing yet another kiss to my neck.

Turning around to face him, he has a lazy fucked out grin on his face and I can’t help but feel proud that I’m the reason for that smile. I smile at the thought, and at the feeling of his cum beginning to spill out of me and down my legs. Steve takes my hands in his and flops back onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You know I actually came here hoping I would work up the courage to ask you on a date but this was so much better.” He admits, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“Wow so I missed out on a date?” I tease, hugging into him even tighter.

“I mean, we can always break into Scoops and go have that date now.” He suggests, voice soft as though he’s afraid I will reject him.

“That sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fluff #strangers things imagine #Steve Harrington x fem #Steve Harrington fanfiction #stranger things au #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve harrington x female reader smut

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cuntdevil · 1 month ago

Text

★ NO GOOD NIGHT'S REST.

nanami can't have a good night's rest with a wife like you. you say it's for him, to take care of him & his needs, but he knows his wife so well and how much you love him sleeping nearly nude.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, nanami kento, sexually mature, minors, ageless and blank blogs: do not interact & 4705 words !

╰┈➤ salaryman!nanami kento & housewife!reader (she/her), consensual somnophilia, rimjob, dry humping, premature cumming, handjob, blowjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, not proofread.

( author's note. ) this piece of art killed me and made me think about somnophilia with nanami so here this is. i was physically and mentally unwell writing this, tee bee ayche.

The moment that Nanami takes a step into the house, the khaki trench coat that was draped around his hand is thrown towards the coat rack on the left corner as he absentmindedly hangs up his keys in the process. The dark brown briefcase is dropped next to the door for you to move somewhere else. He kicks off his dark brown leather shoes, shoving them off into their allotted corner where you’ve begged him plenty of times to do before. Now, he listens, your voice playing in the back of his exhausted mind.

He can smell the aroma of whatever dish you’ve made tonight still lingering despite the clock trickling closer to half past twelve. You’re not in his sights like you usually are— always waiting up for him in the wee hours of morning no matter what— as he’s making a beeline towards the wooden staircase and trudging up the steps.

“Honey, where are you?” he calls out. His voice isn’t loud, but you surprisingly hear it all the way up there as you peak from outside your crafting room. You had finished all the household duties, managing to finish dinner just in time to allow yourself a period of leisure. This was the one place you allowed yourself to make a mess and care about it some other time.

“I’m in here!” you call out, seeing his figure getting closer as he rises from up the stairs. You can see it evident in him. Work has surely drained him tonight, especially at a time like this. You’ve had yourself so transfixed on this crochet project that you didn’t even realize the time yourself, it only hitting you the moment you let out a loud yawn. Despite his own exhaustion, Nanami can’t help but be amused at you. How you’re always so adamant on waiting for him even with his protests not to. You still have whatever craft you have in hand, seeming to be making a sweater that’s surely taking up your time.

“Look at you,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you into his arms. “You’re tired.”

“Says you,” you poke into his chest, giggling softly before another yawn escapes you. “You’re the man working hard at work twenty-four-seven, leaving your dear wife alone all the time. You’re exhausted, baby.”

You come to cup his face, eyes widening as you pull off his green-tinted spectacles. You can see the purple eye bags underneath as you pout, your thumb running down his cheek as you frown. “Let me go run you a bath.”

“No,” he stops you from leaving, grabbing back at your wrist to pull you close into his chest again. “I’m gonna shower. Don’t want to fall asleep in the tub.”

His hands dip to fall on the small of your back before traversing to your ass, grabbing a handful of it as he smirks. “How about you—” he speaks low, his lips meeting that one spot on your neck, his blonde hair touching your skin. “—get yourself changed into that nightgown I like and I meet you in bed, hm?”

You giggle, nodding your head. You finally leave his hold, but not before planting a chaste kiss on his lips as he lets you lead the way to your shared bedroom. When you open the door, he lets out a deep sigh as he saunters into the bathroom, flickering on the bathroom lights as you do in the bedroom. The deep grumble of your drawers sound as you pull out a short nightgown, a skimpy little laced dress that does nothing to hide your body from your husband. You pull off your t-shirt, an old band tee that you got back in high school. It amazes you how you still manage to fit in at the age of thirty. You’ve gained a healthy amount of weight, where you’d think you would have to get rid of it by now. But then again, it was a baggy on you at seventeen, where it now hugs you.

You kick off your shorts as well, feeling the breeze of the air conditioner hit your bare skin as you stand in near nude, your panties being the only thing to cover you. Pulling on the nightgown, the spaghetti straps have a habit of slipping off of you and revealing your cleavage. It stops down just below your ass, giving Nanami the perfect view of it whenever you move. It’s his favorite color on you, a sage green that always has his breath hitching and thinking how he’s such a lucky man to have you.

You remember why you always wait for Nanami with something in your hand to occupy you, because the moment you hit the bed, your exhaustion betrays you and you always manage to fall asleep before he can join you. This has happened plenty for you to learn your lesson, but you think this has always been his plan because the moment he comes out of the shower to see your slumbering body, he chuckles to himself. The sheets are barely covering your upper body, giving him the perfect view of your breasts and how they’re close to spilling out.

His chest glistens as he steps out the bathroom, the steam escaping as it’s fogged up the mirrors inside. He continues drying off the excess water that he’s missed, taking careful steps as he shudders at the presence of the cold air. He reaches for the underwear drawer, opening it gently so it doesn’t disturb your sleep. He pulls out a pair of boxer briefs before disregarding his towel to be thrown down the back of a chair. Stepping inside of it, he goes to shut off the lights and crawl inside the bed next to you.

He’s careful when pulling your sleeping body close to him, arms wrapping around your figure and holding you snug against his bare chest. Silently his hands wander, feeling the soft fats of your chest as they momentarily ghost around your nipple, the next hand wandering deep under your sexual sleepwear. He goes to cup your covered mound, something that he’s grown a habit of, the feeling of your heat providing a sense of comfort as you shuffle in his embrace. “Kento?”

“Shhh, my darling,” he hushes you and finally closes his eyes. “Go back to sleep.”

And you don’t argue with him, his words sending you right back into that place of darkness. Though, it feels more light now that you’re in his arms. You hum, “M’kay…”

—

You wake up in the next hour and a half, groggy but no longer in the warmth of Nanami’s arms. You think that maybe he left you, also waking up to whatever force that drove you out of your slumber, but when you push yourself up on the bed, he’s lying flat on his stomach, his face away from you. The covers aren’t around him, forced to take in the absolute freezing temperatures while you’ve hogged the sheets all to yourself. The moon from outside your window shines onto him, the expanse of his back glistening in its light. How his back muscles flex as his chest rises and falls, ever so slightly jumping from time to time due to whatever he’s dreaming about.

His boxer briefs hug at his ass perfectly, his legs thrown across the bed so haphazardly, one bent upwards as the next is close to teetering off the edge. It gives you the perfect view of his covered bulge pressing into the dark sheets that cover the mattress, the navy blue crinkled under both of your weight. His hair dances messily under the air while yours is covered underneath your bonnet, his soft snores silently echoing inside the room. A heat escapes you, a pool of arousal that sticks to your panties as you push yourself up even more to sit straight. Absent-mindedly, your hand travels down his back, gently so as to not wake him up before they land on the hem of his underwear. Your next hand goes to cup your cunt, pressing your fingers into the heat as you clench around nothing, feeling the dampness that’s there and to come. But it’s just that, simply cupping yourself to move your hands to Nanami’s bulge, pressing your fingers down against his balls and feeling how he immediately reacts to you. An intake of a breath before he’s back to his regular slumber. You run your hands down the expanse of behind to his ankles and it’s as if though his body has grown accustomed to you, his body still laying down pliant on the bed fast asleep. Only when your hands are back against his balls does he respond.

He’s always been a heavy sleeper, sleeping through the midst of construction outside your bedroom window and the heavy, thundering rain. It makes it all so much fun to test the waters, to see when his body will respond and send a signal to his brain to wake up. To tell him, your wife is touching you again.

You mess with the band of his underwear, something you’ve always struggled with. You tuck your index and middle finger underneath the band, tugging it down on your left side to reveal an inch more of skin. You do the same with the right before you feel Nanami move and shift. You pause as you watch him shuffle with pure adoration and love. You coo when he returns back to sleeping soundly and steadily, but because of his shifting, you’re right back at square one. And you find yourself cursing at the very man you were just cooing at.

You hold a tight grip on the bands once more before doing your habitual shimmy of his underwear, this time around proving to be easier than the rest, it feels. You manage to get it down from the hardest part, where Nanami usually wakes when he feels the fabric of his underwear sliding down over his cock and being startled awake. How he’d chuckle softly before turning around to pull you on top of him and announce how you’re such a sneaky and devious little wife before helping you out and removing it all on his own.

You feel triumphant finally, feeling his still body in his sleeping state as you drag down the boxer briefs to pool at his feet before disregarding it somewhere on the ground. Now in complete nude, his balls hang heavy as his cock springers underneath. A tinted shaft with a pink tip that’s slightly hard under your ministrations.

You rut your hips down on the bed at how the tip of his cock glistens in the moonlight, a soft moan leaving you before you’re fixing yourself in between Nanami’s legs. You’re gentle when you push them open further before feeling the hard skin of his ass, giving them a nice massage before you’re spreading them apart. His asshole is all puckered and dry, ready for the taking when you bend to let your saliva pool inside your mouth and let it dribble down your tongue into the crevice of his ass.

The string of spit landing with precision as a pebble still sticks to you unwavering. You lick the bottom of your lip, it flashing away as you play in your mess, two fingers that go to rub at his tight hole. A ceremonious moan leaving your lips as you hum in delight. And he feels it all within his sleep, it registering as a wet dream to him, what you’re doing to him. On this very same bed with you towering over him while he’s on his stomach, though he’s awake in it. It feels so real, the way your hand travels down his back and taking your sweet and precious time as you tell him just how much you love him and how you devote your very existence to him. How you coo how blessed you are to have such a husband like him that takes care of you and how you need to give back to him in the best way you can. Not with the cooking and cleaning, not with the gifts you make him on his birthday and holidays or just because. No, with having him underneath you and for the taking, focusing on solely his pleasure and his desires.

Every action mimics the real world and his mind is telling him to wake up the closer your lips approach his puckered asshole, telling him that this is real. That it’s all real. But he wants to delve in his dreams a little longer just in case it’s not. His hips rutting into the bed just as he does in real life. He’s groaning out your name in his sleep as his cock hardens even more when your breasts press against them during your actions. They stimulate even further, feeling the skin to skin contact as your tongue makes his asshole shine. Long stripes that get swept away by the cold air only to be placed again once more.

In his dreams, you’re wearing a long dress that closely mirrors your nightgown. The same sage green color that he absolutely adores on you. And somehow, it makes it all the hotter, making a mental note to himself to buy you one that closely replicates it once he wakes in the morning— if he doesn’t wake up sooner. Your hair is long, braids that drop to your waist and push out of your face as you devour him. Your eyes are glossy and bright, reflecting the love that they’re filled with. The bed lies in the middle of an uncharted beach, providing you privacy despite being outside in the open. The sun shines bright down on his back, beating it with its heat that would surely burn him if this was real.

Palm trees and clear sands while the waters are blue and vibrant in the color. He moans in his dream world as well as the real, letting you know that you’re accomplishing your goals. The more you salivate, the sloppier it gets, your tongue diving deep into his ass as it soon creates a wet sound. He rubs his cock into the sheets of the bed, soon feeling it twitch. Nanami croaks out a groan as he feels his cock about to empty itself into the sheets. However, you’re uncaring as your eyes are open and watching him from above and seeing how his face turns to the side twists and contorts. He shudders, a switch finally flickering inside and beckoning his eyes to open.

When they flutter open, he can feel it. Your fingers on his legs, nails digging into his flesh gently as your tongue is all lulled out. Even in his groggy state he can just envision you, laying down on your tummy as your hips roll into the bed, your pussy leaking your juices as you find pleasure in granting him his. However, it’s dark out and when he peeks out the window, the moon is full and bright against their window. His moan is deeper than it was before, louder as his groggy state soon dissipates at the pleasure that coincides. He feels a wet patch beneath him and atop, letting him know that this was all very real.

You register that your husband’s awake when you feel movement of his leg, making you pull away as you watch him shuffle to his back. Eyes that are still heavy and evident with exhaustion, but riddled with lust. His cock comes to lean against his abdomen, his blonde happy trail providing a cushion as the excess of his cum dribbles down his shaft and inside his pubes. He’s impressed. To have made him cum without waking him up? It’s the best you’ve ever done, and quickly makes him envision the future.

“You’ve gotten my underwear off,” his voice getting deeper than it usually is. “I must’ve been extremely tired.”

He motions you up, to come closer to his lips and you obey, smiling triumphantly as you crawl and hover over his body. You plant your hips down for your covered pussy to sit on his cock, hearing a guttural groan leave him before his lips are on yours. You kiss him, grinding your hips down on his open erection and mewl into his mouth. “Or, I must be getting better.”

Nanami smirks. “We’ll see next time.”

You’re about to travel back down to his length when Nanami’s hands find your hips, keeping you in place. His eyes hold a question, one that’s asking you for another kiss. And you’re so giving, so willing to give him what he wants, your soft and supple lips on your husband’s. He moans into it, loving the taste of him on you. His chest vibrates as he grounds you against his length and you know where this leads, playing this game too many times before. You push against his chest, whining out, “no.”

“Why not?” he frowns, eyebrows furrowing. “I want to be inside you.”

“And you get to be inside me,” you smile, your nose scrunching up cutely as you know what he means. He gives you a deadpanned look, fingering digging into your flesh to pull you flush against him. “You know what I want.”

“And you know what I want,” you whisper back, staring into his brown eyes as the two of you have a silent battle. Typically, you’re the one who relents, letting Nanami have his way with your body and battering away with your pussy. However, not tonight, your eyes plead with him unrelenting as you bat your eyelashes and adjust the bonnet on your head. Your eyes threaten to prickle with tears as you ground your hips further, a tremor in your voice as you feel a deep need inside of you. “Kento,” you breathe. “Pl–please…”

He breaks eye contact, letting go of you as you cheer at your victory. Nanami grunts as he watches you travel back in between his legs. “Don’t take it too far. You’ll get a slack jaw.”

“I know when enough’s enough,” you shoot him a glare. However, Nanami chortles, “Sure you do, love.”

You don’t bother arguing with him on that. You could threaten to leave him with blue balls, but that’ll leave you with a disadvantage as well as your pussy aches. Reaching for his cock, you grab it at the base, feeling how it’s hardened again all for you. You find yourself appeased that your husband finds his solace all in you, how you can still make him feel good despite the years that have gone by. That when he’s late at work, it’s exactly as he says. The two of you know friends that have succumbed to infidelity, not being able to handle the hours outside of each other and giving into the temptation and lust for someone else.

People have wished it upon the two of you before, saying that at some point Nanami doesn’t want to wait until he clocks out and will find a fine dime at a bar, and that you’ll get tired of waiting for him. And you don’t know if it’s the spite the two of you share when people dared to utter those words or if it's your combined love, but something remains stubborn within you two to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Feeling your grip around his length tightening has his body tensing up as it fills with anticipation. You rub a consoling hand into his inner thighs so that you don’t have to utter a single word. Beautiful eyes that look up to him, silently asking if he's okay. With a simple nod, he watches as you continue. Nanami’s been your everything, your first love, your first kiss, the first man you’ve slept with and explored sex with. He’s your everything.

You remember the moment of first feeling his cock in your hand, how it twitched and moved and how you squealed in pure amazement that he could move it. Your innocence was a beauty to behold in the palm of his hands. And while you weren’t his first, you made it feel like he was starting all over him. Like he had been baptized and born a new man within your presence.

A string of saliva drips from your tongue once more to smear around his tip pebbling down as your hand moves up to lubricate his length further. The excess drops of cum get gathered in the fist you’ve made around him, your thumb pressing into his tip as you draw circles into it. Tantalizingly slow, you tease the man who watches you. You’re on your knees, ass in the air as your dress falls over to reveal your mound and the wet patch in your panties. You’re only getting wetter as your mouth waters.

His cock always excites you, no matter where it’ll be. However, you always love to have him inside your mouth, feeling how you can fit all of him inside you and how it twitches when he gets close. And when he cums, the quick spurts that land in the back of your throat. How you used to gag and garble, but have come to swallow with ease as one stray tear leaves your right eye. Your hand moves languidly around his length. Up and down, up and down at a moderate pace as you’ve always taken your time.

Your next hand would always find its way to his balls, cupping them and fondling them as though they were stress balls asking to be played with. Nanami’s forced himself to get it together whenever you find yourself in between his legs like this, always tensing up his body and throwing his head back at the vixen you’ve made yourself to be. You love to see his undoing, always saying to see how it’s a sight to behold and the gods would love to have his moment of bliss captured on a canvas. Your eyes would twinkle as it does now, watching how his how dick would get wet with precum and how the sounds would echo in the room.

He curses under his breath, calling out your name and nothing more. He never begs, but you know the utterance of your name is just enough to ask you. He does so now with you jerking him off.

“(Y/N)...” Before a wanton moan falls from his lips. His eyes are shut as he feels his legs tense, head falling back into the pillows, his hands reach for your wrist, pulling you closer. His cock twitches in your hand, white spurts shooting out from his tip, landing to his chest and pooling between your thumb and index finger. A dragged out moan falls from him as he wants nothing more than to pull you right next to him. To spoon you as he fucks you from behind, but he knows you’ll have none of that.

He feels the heat of your body against his lower body as he catches his breath, eyes opening back up to see your tongue ready to clean him. Fuck, he curses as your tongue touches his belly, swiping up his seed with one lick. Your eyes flushed with lust as you looked back at him and shimmy down further. His cock still in your hand, and still messy with his release. But you’ve always been great at cleaning, licking at your hand, too, before planting a chaste kiss on his head. Your pink muscle swirling around the tiny slit, overstimulating your husband as it’s bound to grow sensitive. However, he’s still hard in your hand, wanting more.

You moan out, hand returning back to the base of his cock as you lick up a stripe. Sucking his balls into his mouth before letting them go with a pop. It’s enough to have him cream himself for the third time tonight. Your lips pucker up, wrapping around the base as your head’s turned to the side. Your hums send a vibration throughout his body and his legs tense and dare to kick out at you. His face heats up as he’s held his breath unconsciously for quite some time. Exhaling heavily, he exclaims, “My god, (Y/N)!”

You continue at that one spot before you’re right back around his tip, suck incessantly at it in a desperate need for him. Your mouth puckers into an ‘O’ as you watch your husband’s face twist and contort at your actions, hips bucking up into your face as his tip enters your mouth, needing to feel him entirely inside of it. Your hands rest on his thighs, running your hands up and down it as you bob your head shallowly around it. Cheeks hollowing out as you still for a moment, basking of the feeling of his tip pressed on the roof of your mouth. To think you were once an experienced girl that was once apprehensive about his size. It’s become a distant and vague memory in the back of Nanami’s mind, only brought up in these moments.

How you salivate around his cock, growing extremely wet around him as if he were in your pussy. How your hips jut out in a visceral need for him, but your mouth refuses to leave his length. How you slurp and suck around his girth as he tries to hold himself together because you’re a fiend around him. How you have him so weak in the knees that he can only just take it, take what you give him. How your head bobs up and down his length so beautifully like a pro— like you’ve done this for years.

From that time period of growth, seeing how you’ve become so comfortable in your sexuality, unashamed to say just how good you make your man— your husband feel— Nanami never would’ve guessed that you were that same girl all those years ago. You always have his vision blurred when his orgasm hits him again, just like now. His legs weaken as he feels cock jolt inside of your mouth. Your heart rate picks up in delight as you bring yourself to suck just around the tip, cheeks hollowing even more just like a vacuum and pushing him over the edge. You’d press against his balls, a finishing move of yours that has him seeing white as he’d cum one last time for the night.

He’d shoot out on your tongue, his release more translucent and less thick as you’d like, but that’s your fault for making him so spent. It takes Nanami some time to return to reality, to register your hands that’s landed in his hand and asking him if he’s alright. You’ve got him under a dizzy spell, his brown eyes searching for yours and for a moment you’re frightened.

“Oh no,” you gasp. “Did I work you too much, Kento?”

He shakes his head, eyes shutting as a smile reaches the corner of his lips. “No, love. You never do.”

“Good,” you sigh, crawling under the sheets and draping them over Nanami’s naked figure. He chuckles, catching your attention as you snuggle into his chest. You quirk an eyebrow up in curiosity. “What?”

“Didn’t expect you to end it so soon,” he admits. “Thought I’d have to pry you off of me.”

“Not when you gave me quite the scare,” you push at his chest before your eyes light up, hands reaching to cup his softening length in hopes to make it hard again. “But, are you saying that you want to keep going?”

Nanami chuckles, reaching to kiss your temple. “What am I going to do with you— a wife who won’t let me get any good night’s rest?”

“But don’t they say—” you knit your eyebrows together in faux pondering before meeting your husband’s eyes “—good pussy puts a man to sleep?”

Before you know it, Nanami’s reaching for your waist and forcing you on your back. You squeal at the sudden change of position, giggling into his chest and rubbing the expanse of it. He hums in the crook of your neck, laughing at your question. “Not when he’s had none.”

( author's note. ) do you really love your blorbo if you wouldn't eat his ass? (the answer is NO!)

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #nanami #x reader #x black reader #‧₊˚ ⋅ standalone.#tw: (n)sfw

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bruisedboys · 9 months ago

Text

sejanus plinth x fem!reader | sejanus is a helpless romantic, you’re totally shy under his affections, but he just can’t help himself!

implied shy!reader, coryo being a menace but in a playful way, sejanus being a tease, kissing, so much fluff!!!!

Coriolanus watches you and Sejanus with a look of mild disgust on his face.

“Ugh,” he says. “They’re gross.”

Lucy Gray laughs, up to her knees in the long, soft grass.

“Don’t be mean, Coriolanus,” she chides, digging her elbow into his ribs. “I think they’re cute.”

“Cute?” Coriolanus huffs, incredulous. “He looks like he’s about to eat her.”

Truth be told, Sejanus does look a bit like he wants to eat you. In the most romantic way possible, of course. You’re both sitting on the pier over the lake, and he’s got you in his lap, your knees caged on either side of his hips, his face so close to yours you’re almost kissing. He thumbs at your collarbone, fingers curled over your bare shoulder, hands warm on your sunkissed skin, gazing at you like you’ve been threaded with pure gold. The lake sloshes softly beneath you.

You peek over Sejanus’ shoulder, buzzing with fondness. “They’re looking at us.”

“Who?” Sejanus asks, distracted by the way you shudder under his touch. He thinks it’s sickeningly cute, how shy you are. “Coryo, huh? Don’t worry, honey. He’s just jealous.”

Honey? Heat creeps up your neck at an alarming rate. Any more of this and you’ll melt in a lovesick puddle. The pet name plays in your head over and over like a broken record. Honey, honey, honey.

“Jealous?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t seem to think straight when he’s got you this close. His hands on your skin, his thighs firm under yours. You glance over his shoulder again, self conscious.

“Mhm.” Sejanus brings a hand to your jaw and tilts your head in his direction with two fingers, forcing your gaze away from your friends. “‘Cause you’re so pretty,” he explains, voice like melted sugar. “And I’ve got you all to myself.”

You fear you’ll go up in flames. You hide your burning face by dropping it to his shoulder, shy and so so in love with him. Sejanus laughs softly, soaked through in fondness, and rubs your back with a big warm hand. Your spaghetti strap top means his palm graces a slice of exposed skin at the top of your back, and pleasured goosebumps erupt in his wake.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He murmurs, his mouth ghosting your ear, so close he’s almost kissing it. He sweeps his hand up your back and then down again. “C’mon, come back out. I want to look at you.”

He pulls back slightly and gets a hand under your chin to encourage you up. You’re putty in his hands, surprising yourself at how quickly you oblige, how quick you are to do what he wants. He waits patiently for you to meet his gaze and once you do, you find your own feelings of overbearing fondness reflected back at you. His pretty eyes are pools of love, the honey sun painting them the colour of browned butter. You like him so much you could suffocate in it.

Sejanus grins at you, cheeks dimpling. He tucks some of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. His hand lingers at your throat.

“Yeah,” you nod, breathless and much too eager but you can’t bring yourself to care. “You don’t have to ask, Sej.”

Sejanus hums before capturing your mouth in a swift kiss. You breathe him in and curl your hand around his neck, breathing in his scent of pine and firewood, something sweeter, like caramel. Your fingers brush over the short hair at the nape of his neck. He’s told you he used to have curly hair, and as much as you like imagining him with his curls, you like his buzzed hair just as much. He’s so handsome he doesn’t need curls, anyway.

Sejanus brings his hand to your waist and tugs you closer, desperate and greedy but never rough. You go happily, kissing him back with as much earnest as you can manage, pushing up onto your knees in your desperation to be closer still. You get lost, forget where you are, like you tend to do when you’re with Sejanus.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus is fake gagging into the grass.

“You agree that’s a bit excessive, right?” He asks Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray just rolls her eyes. “You’re dramatic. They’re in love.”

Coryo scoffs. “Couldn’t they be in love somewhere else?”

Lucy Gray watches as you pull away from Sejanus and start giggling like a lovesick fool, while he tries to coax you back into another kiss.

No, she thinks. Not gonna happen.

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elsiewritesss · 2 months ago

Note

hiii is there any chance you could write a smut with a shy/unexperienced reader with vinnie? you could add anything to it you can think of but vinnie liking she’s unexperienced

even calling her sweet names like angel, etc in it 😇😇

absolutely!!! also please read the authors note at the end!!

New Feelings

pairings: vinnie hacker x inexperienced fem reader

warnings: smut, fingering, pet names, swearing (slight)

summary: when vinnie finds out his girl has never had an orgasm, he vows to make that change.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Baby, baby, baby-” Vinnie spoke softly, his hands slightly pushing the girl on his lap back as she looked at him with a small pout on her face.

“What’s going on?” He asked, confused as he watched his girl look down, nervously playing with her hands.

The two were sitting on Vinnie’s couch, a usual evening for the two as they watched a movie. That was until Y/N leaned over to kiss Vinnie, the kiss turning into a heated makeout session very quickly.

“I…I wanna have sex.” She spoke, still avoiding eye contact. Vinnie blinked as he tried to render the words he just heard.

Y/N has had sex before, only a small handful of times with her ex. When she and Vinnie started dating, he never put any pressure on them having sex as he fell in love with her for who she is and not her body (A/N: DON’T SETTLE FOR A MAN WHO ONLY WANTS SEX!!! IF HE WANTED TO HE WOULD!). She felt embarrassed for being so inexperienced but Vinnie assured her it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” Y/N started, feeling embarrassed before Vinnie cut her off by sitting up fully.

“No babe. Sorry you just took me by surprise there. Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes looking into hers as she looked back at him, her head nodding.

“I need words angel.” He said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as she took in a breath.

“I’m sure.” Vinnie reached a hand up to brush the stray hairs behind her ear before securing his arms around her waist and lifting her up with him.

Y/N let out a squeal as Vinnie led them to his room, sitting down on his bed with her on his lap again.

“If you feel uncomfortable with anything or want to stop, just say stop and we’ll stop…okay?” Vinnie’s words were comforting to Y/N, her ex never really caring about making her feel comfortable.

“Okay.” Y/N gave a small smile, Vinnie returning it as he leaned forward to connect their lips.

Y/N felt her body relax at the feeling as her arms wrapped themselves around Vinnie’s neck while his wrapped around her waist.

Slowly, Vinnie stood up again as he turned to gently lay Y/N down on his bed with him hovering above her.

Y/N pulled back abruptly as Vinnie slightly tugged at the bottom of her shirt.

“Is this okay angel?” His words were soft and his eyes comforting to her as she nodded her head. Vinnie placed a soft kiss to her lips before pulling the shirt off her body and tossing it to the floor, leaving her breasts completely on display.

Vinnie shook his head slightly as he looked up at his girlfriend. The fact that she was inexperienced made something swell in his heart, pride almost. Knowing he can take much better care of her than her ex did and make her feel things she’s never felt before made his pride shine through even more.

Vinnie leaned down, attaching his lips to the side of her neck.

“Mm…” Y/N let out the soft moan as Vinnie’s lips hit her sweet spot. The girl could feel his lips turn into a slight smirk against her skin, before he reattached his lips back in that same spot.

“Vin-” Y/N breathed out, unintentionally clenching her thighs together as she felt heat rush to her core.

Vinnie pulled back to where he was eye level with her. His hand reached down to the waistband of her pajama shorts.

“Is this okay sweetheart?” The girl chewed on her bottom lip out of nerves as she stared into Vinnie’s comforting brown eyes.

“Yes.” She spoke softly, Vinnie leaning down to place a small peck on her nose before slowly pulling her shorts down, leaving her just in her underwear.

“You doing okay my angel?” Y/N felt her heart swell at how caring Vinnie was being.

“I’m okay.” She responded, grabbing onto Vinnie’s biceps as his eyes roamed over her body.

“Good. Baby, did your ex ever make you cum?” Vinnie was curious at the answer. Judging by the growing wet spot covering her, he anticipated the answer was-

“No.” He was correct, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back on his knees.

“Now that’s just rude. Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” Vinnie leaned his head forward to kiss her lips gently as he moved his hand down, slightly touching the wet spot on her panties.

“Oh!” Y/N yelped, her body jerking slightly.

“Relax angel. I got you. I promise I’m going to make you feel good.” Vinnie cooed, making Y/N relax and let a breath out as Vinnie applied more pressure to her center.

“Vinnie…don’t stop.” The boy held back a smirk, secretly loving that he’s barely touching her and she’s already begging him to not stop.

Slowly he removed his hand, grabbing onto the waistband of her panties before looking up at her, a silent question of ‘is this okay’ as Y/N nodded up at him.

Once Vinnie removed her panties, he observed the sight in front of him.

“Fuck baby.” He breathed out, her arousal dripping out and glistening against her.

“Vin, please. Do something.” Y/N practically begged as she wiggled around the bed.

“Okay okay.” Vinnie moved above her again, putting his weight on one arm as his other moved in between her legs.

He placed his thumb on her clit, her body jerking at the movement. Slowly, he began to rub small circles, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it.

“How does that feel angel?” His voice was deep as her eyes closed in pleasure.

“Good.” She breathed out, a small moan following which was music to Vinnie’s ears.

Vinnie kept the pace on her clit as he slowly moved his finger down, inching it inside her slowly.

“Ah!” Y/N squealed, making Vinnie stop his movements completely.

“You okay baby?” Concern filled his eyes as he looked at her face for any signs of discomfort.

“No no no. Keep going.” Her head shook against the pillow frantically as Vinnie let out a breath of relief.

“Don’t scare me like that darling jeez.” Vinnie said under his breath as he started back up with rubbing small circles on her clit, his finger pumping slowly in and out of her.

Vinnie felt himself get hard at the sight in front of him. Taking mental notes at how Y/N reacts to each movement he makes.

“Vinnie- wait. My stomach.” Y/N started, moving around to try and get him to stop at the new feeling pooling at the bottom of her stomach.

“It’s okay angel. Relax it’s okay.” He reassured, adding more pressure to her clit as he picked the pace up with thrusting his finger, adding a second one in to stretch her out.

“Mmm, fuck.” Y/N’s moan went high pitched as Vinnie felt her walls clench around his fingers as her orgasm hit her like a wave.

Vinnie removed his thumb from her clit as he continued to thrust his fingers into her as she rode out her orgasm.

Once her body stilled, Vinnie removed his fingers resulting in Y/N letting out a whine at the feeling.

The boy placed his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean as he leaned forward and attached his lips to Y/N’s cheek.

“That felt so good.” Y/N breathed out, looking up at him.

“I assume so, because you just had your first orgasm.” Vinnie spoke, a smug smile appearing on his face as Y/N looked up at him wide eyed.

“Really?” Vinnie nodded his head, giving her forehead a peck.

“Oh yeah, and there’s plenty more in store for you baby. Let’s not push it fully with sex just yet. Don’t want to overwhelm you with orgasms just yet.” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she slightly shoved him.

“Can you make me have another? Please?” Her eyes peered up at him, a smile coming to his face again as he chuckled.

“Oh yeah, as many as you want my love.”

A/N: i'm so sorry for the lack of posts. i know i recently talked about how my mental health took a turn. just when i was ready to post again a very close family member to me passed. it's been very hard on me and i'm still in the process of mourning the loss as i was very very close to this person. i'm trying to get into finishing requests that i've started to get them out asap to everyone🫶🏻

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vhacker #vinnie hacker imagines #vinniehacker #vinnie hacker smut

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spidergrysn · 7 months ago

Text

CHALLENGERS: markhyuck x reader

cw: 18++ reader is kinda like tashi, challengers quotes in green, a bit of tennis lingo i had to google LOL. markhyuck are lowkey pathetic losers in a hot way, cussing, flirting, innuendos with tennis racquets, slightly switch! haechan but mostly dom, mark slight switch! (markie is mostly subby at first), switch! reader, tennis is kind of hot idk, degradation/name calling, ass slapping, don’t be silly wrap ur wily!, fat cock haechan, alcohol and cigarette mention, CUNT!!!!!, fingering, making out, blow jobs, use of the word “sir”, boys kissing. (this is my first time writing smut LOL)

“Mark, you really fucking suck,” Haechan teases, his laughter and voice bouncing around the court.

Haechan jogs to the corner of the court grabbing his chunky bottle of gatorade, chugging it down as dewey sweat drops, drop from his sun-kissed complexion. He then jogs back over to join Mark again, Haechan reaches over the net and hands the bottle to Mark. The black-haired boy grabs it as he thirstly chugs the remaining liquid, not caring about the drops of sweat rimming the bottle from Haechan or the slight backwash his friend left.

“Thanks,” Mark utters with a half-hearted grin as he walks back to his spot on the court. He picks up his tennis racket, gripping it as he takes a spare neon tennis ball out of his black gym shorts before serving the ball to Haechan, who is locked in, ready in position.

The ball bounces between the boys rhythmically as the two best friends engage in lively banter about the happenings in their lives: from girls to tennis to the excitement of their favorite artist releasing a new album. They babble back and forth, eagerly awaiting the moment when one of them slips up in their exchange.

"That's game!" Haechan's voice echoes across the court as Mark's racquet swings through empty air, narrowly missing the trajectory of the ball. With precision, Haechan had delivered a swift and well-placed shot, leaving Mark scrambling to catch up. The ball zips past him, its velocity a testament to Haechan's pure skill. Mark's dark brown eyes follow the ball's path, a mix of frustration and admiration evident in his expression, as he realizes he's unable to return the shot in time. With a defeated nod, he acknowledges the end of their match.

Mark rolls his eyes in frustration, his fingers tightening around the grip of his his racquet as he trudges to the corner of the court where his backpack lies in wait. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, evidence of the intensity of their match, he bends down to retrieve his bag, his chest rising and falling with each panting breath. With a quick sigh of relief, he unzips the side pouch and fishes out a bottle of water, the cool liquid soothing his heated throat as he takes a refreshing sip, quenching his thirst.

Meanwhile, Haechan approaches with a light jog, his movements fluid and effortless, really showing off his endurance. With practiced ease, he scoops up his red duffel bag, effortlessly tucking his racquet inside before hoisting it onto his shoulder with a nonchalant shrug. Mark watches with a mixture of envy and admiration, always impressed by Haechan's composure even after theirs grueling matches and practices.

"Yo, let's go," Mark suggests to his friend, signaling toward the exit of the court. The chestnut-haired boy beside him simply nods in agreement.

As they stroll side by side, they leave the court behind, lost in the thought of getting to go home; and let loose by playing video games so loud their neighbors complain.

"Ahem, watch where you're going," Haechan hears a sharp voice cut through the air, and he looks up to find a girl standing directly in his and Mark’s path. She's clad in an old grey tennis competition shirt from 2021 and a matching tennis skirt, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The sunlight dances off her radiant skin, unadorned by makeup, its clear to testimony to her natural beauty. Her finely plucked eyebrows arch elegantly above her big doe eyes that exude a natural confidence, she holds onto a duffel bag in one hand and a baby blue tennis racquet in the other, the ribbon in her hair mirroring the color.

"Holy shit," Haechan gasps, caught off guard by her presence, while Mark shoots him a quizzical look. The girl, however, remains unfazed, her demeanor poised and self-assured.

"So, are you going to stand there with your mouth open, or are you going to apologize for bumping into me?" she demands matter-of-factly, her gaze fixed on Haechan as though she were towering over him with her confidence alone despite, Haechan being quite a few inches taller than the girl.

"Uh, yeah, my bad," Haechan stammers, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Mark elbows Haechan, confusion etched on his face as he wonders why his typically quick to fire back friend would allow someone to talk to him like that. The girl's piercing gaze shifts between them before she directs her attention blankly at Mark.

"You kinda suck, not gonna lie," the girl remarks, her tongue clicking in a somewhat condescending manner, a twisted smile playing at the corners of her lips. Mark is taken aback; he was used to Haechan poking at him about his skills, but hearing it from a stranger irritated him.

"And who even are you?" Mark retorts, his tone laced with skepticism.

The girl raises an eyebrow, unfazed by his challenge. "I was watching you guys play. You play really sloppy, you don’t know how to focus, and your serve is pretty shit," she says casually, her words cutting through the air like a well-aimed volley.

“Like you could do any better," Mark fires back defensively, his confidence wavering slightly as he notices Haechan's nervous laughter, a rare occurrence from his usually cocky friend.

"Hmm, well then, play me?" she suggests casually, her smirk showing a hint of amusement. "My teammate is running a bit late. I don’t mind taking you on as a warm-up."

With graceful poise, she lightly jogs to one side of the court, positioning herself with effortless confidence. As she stretches her toned legs, her movements deliberate and fluid, Mark can't help but admire the beauty and strength evident in her slender form.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

"You're an absolute idiot," Haechan grumbled, irritation lacing his words. "Do you have any idea who that is?"Mark's head tilted in confusion as he shook it slowly, indicating his lack of knowledge.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

Haechan let out an exasperated groan, his frustration sketched all over his face. "For someone who spends so much time on the court, you're clueless about the social scene.

That's MOTHER FUCKING Y/N L/N, one of the most formidable players at the college level. She's undefeated, has crazy-ass brand deals, and let's not forget, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Easily in the top three of my 'women I'd let fuck me with my tennis racquet list, and she's not second or third, I'll tell you that much."

Suddenly, it dawned on Mark. Though he had never seen her up close, the name Y/N L/N had circulated in his head at one point or another, whether through passing mentions or Haechan's enthusiastic discussions about her tennis prowess. She was undeniably beautiful, but her reputation for arrogance and rudeness preceded her, making Mark annoyed at the thought of facing her on the court.

"Are you two gonna jerk each other off all day, or are we here to play tennis?" Y/N's voice interrupted, punctuated by the thud of a tennis ball landing at their feet. Mark snapped into action, catching the ball and grabbing his racket, positioning himself on the opposite side of the court.

"Your serve first, princess," Y/N says with a smirk, her competitive spirit evident as she awaited the match to start.

Haechan's gaze shifted from Mark to Y/N, He stood on the sidelines, practically drooling, mesmerized by the presence of the infamous tennis player.

As Mark began to serve, Haechan couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "His serve kinda sucks," observing with a critical eye as Y/N effortlessly returned the ball, her movements graceful and fluid.

As the games goes-on, Mark began to understand why Haechan had spoken so highly of her. Y/N's skill on the court surpassed anything he had ever witnessed. The way she wielded her racket with precision and power was mesmerizing, almost enchanting. It was as if she weren't just playing tennis; she was conducting a symphony of athleticism and beauty , each stroke executed with a her own powerful flair that bordered on ethereal.

Caught in the spell of her dance-like performance, Mark found himself growing increasingly frustrated with his own skills. He could only watch in awe as Y/N dominated the game with her masterful strokes and unwavering focus. It was a sight to behold.

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as Y/N served the ball, and Mark, caught off guard by her skill and agility, missed his return. Her laughter, light and melodic, filled the air as she declares the game is over.Y/N sways up to the net, her eyes gazing at Mark intrigued with a mix of scrutiny.

“You really do suck," she stated matter-of-factly again , her tone holding a hint of brutal honesty. "But you've got crazy potential. You don't give up easily, and that's a good trait."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" he retorted, a tinge of defensiveness creeping into his voice.Y/N shook her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"No, it's supposed to be a critique," she clarifies, her gaze unwavering.

She then shifted her attention towards Haechan, nodding approvingly. "Your friend over there, the one with the brown hair and tiny man-whore shorts, he's not bad at all. Pretty good, actually. But you," she turned back to Mark, her expression serious, "you'll never catch up to him if you keep playing like that."

Mark felt a surge of annoyance bubbling within him. Who did this stranger think she was, passing judgment on his skills just because she was some kind of "tennis god"? Before he could voice his protest, Y/N cut him off, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade.

"Let me coach you."

Mark's jaw dropped in disbelief, a mixture of shock and irritation coursing through him."You're taking pity on me? How lucky I must be," he scoffed, rolling his eyes in frustration.

Y/N merely shrugged, unfazed by his sarcasm. "Well, yes. You should be very lucky," she replied, her tone unwavering as she extended a once and a lifetime offer.

Y/N flashed a mischievous grin as she extended her offer, her eyes darting towards Haechan, who hovered nearby like an eager labrador puppy."You can bring your little friend too," she quipped, her tone teasing yet serious . "Just tell him to lay off on the 'Fuck me eyes.' He's very obvious with it."

Before Mark could protest, Y/N continued, her words cutting through his initial resistance just like her well-aimed serve.

"If you actually want to get far in life, you need to be skilled at hitting a ball with a tennis racquet," she stated bluntly, her gaze unfazed as she laid bare the reality of the situation. Mark let out a defeated sigh, his insecurities gnawing at him as he hesitantly nodded in reluctant agreement.

"So, are you gonna give me your number?" he ventured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N's lips curved into a playful smile. "No! You have to earn that," she replied, her demeanor unyielding yet playful. "Just meet me here tomorrow at 6 am."

"6 am? You're crazy," Mark exclaimed, his disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yes, I fucking am," Y/N replied nonchalantly, already turning to meet up with her teammate who arrived a little bit ago. "Bye."

"Wait, you're not even gonna ask for my name?" Mark called out, his frustration mounting as she walked away without a backward glance.

The girl hummed slightly, a mysterious smile dancing on her lips as she jogged up to her teammate, enveloped in a cloud of laughter and chatter.

Mark let out a heavy sigh as he approached Haechan, who stood with raised eyebrows, his curiosity piqued by the encounter."We've got to be here at 6 am tomorrow," Mark announced, his tone a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "She offered to coach me."

Haechan's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he processed the news. With a hearty clap on Mark's back, he exclaimed, "Mark Lee, you dirty bastard!” Grabbing Mark by the arm and pulling him away, their laughter echoing across the tennis court as they made their exit.

•

"You're late!" the girl's voice rang out across the court, her tone sharp with annoyance. "Yeah, well, some of us aren't used to waking up at 6 am," Haechan retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm as he jogged onto the court alongside Mark.

The girl scoffed, her irritation evident as she shook her head. "Which is exactly why you guys will never get better than where you are now," she shot back saying, her gaze piercing as she focused on Haechan. "You aren't that bad at all, but you have a big ego, and you won't get very far with that attitude, I'll tell you that."

Haechan tilted his head, muttering under his breath about her audacity, but the girl paid him no mind as she shifted her attention to Mark.

"And you.. YOU need my help the most," she continued, her tone firm and slightly unkind. "Don't waste my time again."

With a click of her tongue, she flashed a brief smile before announcing about today’s drills.

By the time their intense session came to an end, the boys' bodies felt as if they had been through a meat grinder. Every muscle screamed in protest, their arms threatening to detach from their sockets, and their hair clung damply to their foreheads. Gasping for breath, they dashed to their water bottles, gulping down the refreshing liquid before Y/N could subject them to any more torture.

Leaning against the fence surrounding the court, the boys found temporary solace, their bodies sinking gratefully into the cool metal. Y/N approached them with a slight smile, her demeanor more relaxed now that the intense training session was over.

"Not too bad today," she remarked, glancing at her watch, the time reading 9 am. Her gaze shifted back to the boys. "Keep practicing like this, and you both might actually stand a chance against other players."

With a collective sigh of relief, the boys slumped down against the fence sitting on the ground, finally allowing themselves a moment of peace. Surprisingly, they found themselves not minding Y/N's presence as she joined them, the three of them sitting in comfortable silence.

From that day forward, their routine was set in stone. Four times a week, at the ungodly hour of 6 am, Mark and Haechan met Y/N on the court. She pushed them to their limits, mixing half-assed compliments with snide remarks, but beneath her tough exterior, she was undeniably a good fucking coach.

•

Before the sun could even rise on the clear day, Mark and Haechan piled into Mark's sleek black car, the engine humming to life as they head to the tennis field. The clock on the dashboard read 5:40 am, showing their intense dedication to the crazy Y/N’s early morning training sessions.

"You know, I think we are kinda warming up on her more more," Mark speaks up quietly, his gaze focused on the road ahead as he maneuvered through the empty streets. Haechan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You still don't think it's weird she hasn't asked for our names or our numbers?"

Mark tilted his head in consideration before shaking it. "Nah, I think she's just weird like that. Who knows?"

With a nod of acknowledgment, Haechan launched into a passionate discussion about an upcoming women's tennis match, his enthusiasm showing as he detailed the fierce competition from renowned colleges across the country and even internationally.

"You think she's got this in the bag?" Haechan inquired, his curiosity evident as they neared their destination. "There's some pretty sick competition out there." Mark nodded fastly, his confidence unwavering. "There's no one as good as her, I'm convinced. Not with that fiery personality."

Haechan chuckled in agreement as they pulled into the parking lot, the quiet hum of their conversation dissipating as they exited the car and joined their "coach" on the court, ready to tackle another challenging session Y/N is about to throw at them.

The boys positioned themselves on opposite sides of the court, their anticipation making them shake as they awaited Y/N's next move. With a smile playing on her lips, she spoke up, her voice carrying a playful edge.

"As you know you guys have a competition soon," she remarked, her observation drawing their attention back to their upcoming match, momentarily forgotten amidst the excitement of the women's tournament.

"Do you guys think you're ready?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow expectantly. Mark and Haechan exchanged glances, their minds racing as they mentally assessed their readiness. With a determined nod, they both replied in unison, "Yes."

“Good, because whoever wins gets my phone number,” Y/N declared with a teasing smirk, her words sparking a competitive fire within the boys.

Despite her occasional harshness, both boys found themselves growing increasingly fond of her, their admiration morphing into a subtle crush on the elite tennis player. On days when she wasn't with them, their conversations inevitably drifted towards the egotistical but enigmatic girl, filled with friendly banter and playful jabs about who could win her “heart” first.

The boys' faces lit up with excitement as they eagerly awaited Y/N's next move, her mischievous gaze locking onto theirs with a playful glint in her e/c eyes.

"Now get off the court, I have a competition soon and I need to practice," she commanded, her voice carrying a hint of urgency beneath its casual tone.

"You made us come here at 6 fucking am to tell us this?" Haechan half-yelled, his frustration bubbling to the surface as Mark groaned, upset at the lost opportunity for precious sleep.

"Yes, I did. Now leave, you idiots are gonna distract me," Y/N retorted, her tone firm yet tinged with amusement.

The boys exchanged annoyed groans, not even surprised by her antics anymore, as they gathered their belongings getting ready to leave.As they began to walk away, they heard her airy voice call out from behind them, her words carrying a rare soft warmth that opposed her tough exterior.

“I would love it if you guys showed up at my game tomorrow," she called, her smile evident even though they couldn't see her face.Though their heads weren’t facing her, both boys felt a giddy anticipation stir within them as they made their way off the court.

•

The next day, both boys arrived at the tennis court, their anticipation piling up with each step as they navigated through the bustling crowd. Their day had been a whirlwind of non Y/N tennis practice and classes, and they couldn't help but wonder if they should have skipped the latter as they scanned the packed arena. Coaches from various schools, students, and eager spectators filled every available space, their collective excitement palpable in the air.

After some searching, the boys eventually found two seats in the stands, settling into the middle row adorned in their red college tennis t-shirts. Mark nervously chewed on a churro, his heart racing as his anxiety starts to spike, as he awaited the start of the final game. Now while they boys were confident in Y/N's abilities, their nerves were stirred by the buzz surrounding her opponent, a formidable German player who had garnered quite a reputation.

Mark's hearts was beating fast as he fidgeted in his seat, his mind swirling with thoughts of the impending match. Haechan, ever the calming presence, turned to him, rubbing his back in a comforting gesture.

"Chill out bro, she'll do fine," Haechan reassured him with a laugh, reaching over to take a bite of Mark's churro. Mark offered a weak nod in response, his apprehension still evident despite his friend's attempt to ease his nerves.

"Dude, I know, but still," Mark sighed, his eyes glued to the court below as they waited for the match to begin, their hearts pounding in unison ready for the match to end before it even started. Both boys sat on the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the court below, anxiety coursing through their veins as the announcer's voice resonated through the overpriced black speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to the 2023 women’s tennis final. Let's welcome to the court two formidable competitors tonight: representing the home team, we have the fiery powerhouse, Y/N L/N!”The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, and Mark and Haechan joined in enthusiastically, their voices ringing out amidst the excitement.

Their breath caught in their throats as they watched Y/N dash onto the court, a vision of athleticism and grace. She wore an all-white Adidas tennis dress, accented with a red bow that proudly displayed her school colors. Her hair was woven into an intricate braid, and her pristine white shoes hinted at the elegance she always brought onto the court. Clutching a slightly red racquet, which appeared to be brand new, Y/N's face radiated with a contagious smile, her confidence contagious as she waved to the crowd, her eyes locking onto Mark and Haechan with a warmth that sent a surge of excitement through them.

As the announcer introduced her opponent, Ingrid Schmidt from Germany, the cheers were more subdued. Ingrid, with her blonde bouncing ponytail and deep scowl, exuded an aura of intense determination that stood in stark contrast to Y/N's easy confidence.

The two girls approached the net, and Y/N extended her hand in a gesture of sportsmanship. As they shook hands, Y/N leaned in to whisper something in Ingrid's ear, a playful glint in her eye. Ingrid's reaction, a dismissive eye roll and a scoff, only fueled the intrigue, leaving Mark and Haechan to speculate on the nature of their exchange as the game started with competitive tension hanging in the air.

The tennis match unfolded like a symphony, with a flurry of powerful serves and lightning-fast volleys dancing across the court. Y/N and Ingrid engaged in a fierce battle, their movements a graceful fusion of athleticism and finesse. Each exchange was punctuated by blistering groundstrokes that landed with pinpoint accuracy, showcasing the players' unrivaled skill and determination.

Despite Ingrid's insane skill, it was evident to everyone watching that Y/N was simply in a league of her own. Mark watched in awe as Y/N moved across the court with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. With each swing of her racquet, she effortlessly unleashed a torrent of power and precision, her movements reminiscent of a prima ballerina performing Swan Lake, her ponytail bouncing with each graceful step.

"FUCK!" Ingrid yelled in frustration as Y/N unleashed a particularly devastating shot, causing Ingrid to slip up and miss her return.

"Code violation, Schmidt!" the announcer boomed, but Y/N merely smirked, her confidence unshaken as she watched her opponent falter. The boys could only watch in awe as the game resumed, Y/N's serve eliciting gasps of admiration from the crowd. It was a sight to behold, the ball soaring through the air with speedy grace and elegance that seemed almost surreal.

As the mix of cheers and chatter stretched across the court, the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch. Despite Ingrid's valiant efforts, Y/N maintained an easy lead in points, inching closer and closer to victory with each passing moment. And finally, after a somewhat tough battle that left both players breathless, Y/N delivered the winning point, her triumph met with an eruption of applause and cheers from the crowd.

As Ingrid angrily beat her racket in defeat, Y/N let out a giddy scream of victory, her exhilaration contagious as she basked in the praises of the crowd. Mark and Haechan quickly made their way down to the court, eager to congratulate their friend on her well-deserved win, their hearts swelling with pride and admiration..

The boys begin talking over each other showering her in compliments. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. Haechan says. “Please do my balls like that next.” Y/N laughs as Mark elbows him- “No but seriously- Mark begins You were incredible today. I mean it wasn't even like tennis, it was an entirely different game.”

“You’re truly amazing.” Y/N smiles at them before embracing both of the boys. They both stand their surprised at the randomsudden affection.

“Thank you guys.” She says earnestly. Before reaching for mark’s phone

“Open this.” She states. Mark nods quickly entering his passcode.

“WAIT HOLD UP you’re giving him your phone number because he was glazing you but not me.” Haechan says almost pouting.

“No you idiot.” Y/N says. I’m having a party tonight a bunch of rich pricks and coaches are gonna be there, I thought I would invite you guys. the boys look at each other surprised before nodding.

“Dress nice please Minhyung and Donghyuck.” she says smiling, showing her teeth.

“WAIT YOU KNOW OUR NAMES???” the boys say at the same time surprised.

“Well yes why wouldn’t i..” the girl says tilting her head at their dumb question. “Well you never asked.” Haechan states and we don’t even go by our government names.” Mark finishes.

“i did a bit of research.” she smiles before someone calls her name. she waves a goodbye at the boys before jogging to a crowed calling her name.

“She’s so fucking weird, I know her pussy is crazy good.” Haechan says jokingly, as Mark watches her fade into a crowd of excited people.

•

Now despite being a college student, Mark harbored a distinct distaste to parties and overly large crowds. Haechan, his roommate, embodied the opposite end of the spectrum—a typical frat boy wannabe who attends all the biggest parties. Throughout their 3 years at college, Mark was convinced Haechan had attended every party every thrown on campus or off, a feat Mark found perplexing considering the consistency of his friend’s hangovers and yet his remarkable ability to maintain attendance in classes and excel at tennis.

Haechan sauntered into their shared college apartment’s living room, clad in a sky blue button-down polo paired nicely with khaki trousers that accentuated his well-defined thighs. He settled onto the couch beside Mark, his gaze eyeing Mark’s figure as the latter nervously tapped his foot. Mark, sporting a fitted long-sleeved button-down that showcased his growing biceps and snug blue jeans cinched with a belt and adorned with a silver chain, playfully punched his friend.

“Try-hard,” Haechan teased, eliciting a playful jab from Mark in response. “Ready to bounce?” Mark inquired, retrieving the keys from their weathered brown coffee table. With a swift exit from their apartment, they made their way to Mark’s black car, leading the way to the address provided by Y/N.

As the engine hummed softly, the boys lounged in the car, nodding along to the tunes dancing from the radio while engaging in casual banter. It was a familiar ritual, comfortablity filled the air between them. However, Haechan couldn't resist bringing up their upcoming tennis match.

"You're in for a challenge, Mark. Let's face it, you've never been able to beat me," Haechan teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Mark chuckled, a hint of defiance in his response. "Hey, I've been putting in the work. Don't be surprised if I give you a run for your money this time dickhead."

Haechan raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by Mark's sudden confidence. Their banter continued, laced with friendly jabs and laughter, each remark fueling their competitive spirits.

“Desperate for her number, huh?” Haechan retorted, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re the one talking about letting her mess with your balls, Hyuck.” Mark shoots back.

Their laughter once again fills the car as they continued to playfully joke with each other, the excitement of the evening's events adding an extra layeto their exchange. Finally, they arrived at their destination—a sprawling mansion adorned with luxurious sports cars lining the street.

After a brief struggle to find parking, they made their way inside, greeted by the pulsating beats of dance music and the buzz of animated conversations. The high-class surroundings dazzled them as they navigated through the crowd, their eyes drawn to the grandeur of the estate.

Amidst the sea of glamorous guests, they found themselves, settling into two chairs to get a full layout on the type of party the were at. Snacking on treats and sipping on beers, they exchanged jokes and observations, enjoying the rare opportunity for both of them to be at a party.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to her, and both Mark and Haechan found themselves momentarily transfixed on the figure in front of them. Y/N emerged onto the dance floor, a vision of ethereal beauty that left them speechless. Her h/c hair, usually styled in a braid or ponytail, cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, adding to the enchantment of her presence. Clad in a stunning green floral dress that hugged her curves perfectly , the fabric shimmered softly under the glow of the lights, leaving an impression of effortless elegance.

Today, Y/N had adorned herself with a touch of makeup, enhancing her already captivating features. Dark and sleek eyeliner accentuated her mesmerizing doe eyes, while her long lashes fluttered with every movement, like butterfly wings. Her lips, painted a delicate shade of pink, appeared plump and inviting, complementing the subtle flush that graced her cheeks. Despite the challenge of dancing in heels, she moved with a grace that seemed otherworldly, just like how she looked when she played tennis. Absolutely fucking stunning.

As the music shifted to "Flashing Lights," her gaze met theirs, and with a subtle beckoning gesture, she invited them to join her on the dance floor. The boys, affected slightly by the buzz of their drinks and the allure of her presence, eagerly rose to their feet and made their way towards her.

“As i recall i know you love to show off”

Y/N greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes alight with mischief. "Well, look who decided to grace my little party with their presence," she remarked, her voice carrying a playful tone as she welcomed them into her world.

"Little?" Mark's voice squeaked incredulously. "I've seen so many famous tennis players, 'little' my ass. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at Mark’s remark. “Excuse me for trying to be a bit humble then,” she replied, her laughter filling the air as her hips swayed to the beat of the music. Taking both boys by the hand, she pulled them into a lively dance, their movements synchronized effortlessly.

"But I never thought you'd take it this far,"

Haechan’s eyes fixed on Y/N, not being able to hold backing on complimenting her. "You look really good, Y/N," he remarked, his admiration evident in his gaze.

“What do i know”? (flashing lights)”

“What do i know? (flashing lights)”

"Thanks," Y/N replied with a smile, her eyes flickering between the two admittedly handsome boys. "You guys clean up nicely as well," she added, a genuine warmth in her voice that sent a flush to both of their cheeks.

As the music boomed around them, they danced in perfect harmony, their laughter mingling with the beat. Y/N's eyes danced between Mark and Haechan, a playful glint in her gaze as she observed their lidded expressions.

"You guys aren't half bad dancers," she teased, her words punctuated by their shared laughter.

"I know it's been awhile, sweetheart. We hardly talk. I was doing my thing."

The boys shared a playful giggle as they took turns spinning Y/N around the dance floor, their laughter mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music. With each twirl, they savored the fleeting moments, their movements synchronized. As the music reached an end, Y/N leaned in close, whispering something in each of their ears, causing their faces to flush with a shared understanding.

Grabbing their hands with an air of determination, Y/N led them through a pathway that wound its way through the backyard of the estate, the fading music serving as a backdrop to their little secret adventure. As they emerged from the wooded area, the tranquil expanse of the beach stretched out before them, the gentle lapping of the waves providing a soothing melody to their senses.

Taking seats on chairs arranged by the shore, the trio settled into a comfortable silence, the cool sea breeze mingling with the warmth of their shared company. Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief, couldn't resist a playful jab at their indulgence in alcohol before their upcoming games.

"Drinking is kind of stupid when you both have games tomorrow," she teased, her gaze flickering between the boys. Tempted to flick their foreheads for this.

Haechan rolled his eyes, retrieving a cigarette and offering one to Mark before lighting it for him. Y/N raised an eyebrow at the gesture, declining the offer with a faux disgusted giggle.

"Hell no, those are nasty," she exclaimed, her voice light hearted.

Haechan shrugged nonchalantly, taking a drag from his cigarette. As Y/N e/c orbs peer into Mark’s. “That’s exactly why y’alls stamina is so shit. You’re killing your precious lungs.”

Mark chuckled at the girl reprimanding their bad habits, he crosses his legs as he blew smoke into the air. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replied, his tone laced with amusement before moving to another subject.

"So, why exactly did you bring us here?" Mark inquired, his gaze drifting towards the ocean as Y/N turned to face the vast expanse before them. His heart skipped a beat as he admired her beautiful side profile, captivated by her pure natural allure. With a shrug, Y/N remained silent, leaving an air of intrigue hanging between them as they all savored the serenity of the moment.

"I dunno, it was getting loud over there, and I didn't wanna fake socialize with people who aren't better than me," Y/N explained with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously as the boys chuckled at her honesty. It was a classic Y/N move, prioritizing authenticity over superficiality.

"So, you're hanging with us because we're on your level now?" Haechan teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Y/N's reaction.

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "Nah, you guys are just decent company at times," she replied lighthearted, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them easily. As the three go quiet again, Haechan felt a surge of boldness wash over him. Whether it was the influence of the alcohol, Y/N’s captivating beauty, or the buzz from the cigarette, he blurted out the idea of Y/N coming over to their apartment later that night.

Y/N's soft giggles filled the air, and Mark groaned inwardly, already bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. To their surprise, however, Y/N nodded in agreement.

"Oh, what the hell, why not?" she replied with a shrug, her playful demeanor sparking a newfound excitement in the boys.

"But you try anything funny, and I will beat you to death with my racquet , and I mean that," she added with an scary grin, her warning laced with a hint of seriousness that sent a shiver down the boys' spines. With nervous laughter, they led her back to their car, their minds buzzing with anticipation for the night ahead.

•

The car ride was enveloped in a tranquil silence, the soft strains of "Good Days" gently filling the airwaves as Mark navigated the familiar route to their off-campus apartment. As they pulled into the parking spot, Haechan gracefully exited the passenger seat, extending a courteous gesture to Y/N who had opted to sit in the back. "After you, milady," he quipped, offering his hand to assist her as they made their way towards the apartment.

Mark fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door, gesturing inside as he ushered Y/N in. "Welcome to our humble abode," he declared, a hint of pride evident in his voice as Y/N surveyed the surprisingly tidy surroundings.

The apartment exuded a cozy charm, with vinyl records and album posters adorning the walls, interspersed with a smattering of tennis plaques and a vintage karaoke machine nestled in the corner. A case of beer awaited in the living room, a silent invitation to unwind and enjoy the evening.

"Wow, it's really nice in here," Y/N remarked, slipping off her heels and settling onto the inviting gray couch.

The boys followed suit, with Mark offering Y/N a beer, which she graciously accepted. As they cracked open their beverages, the atmosphere relaxed further, the alcohol warming their throats and each others presences filling the room with warmth.

Seated on the couch, they engaged in casual conversation, with Y/N initiating a series of random personal questions that sparked laughter and semi-detailed answers. Before long, the effects of the alcohol began to take hold, their inhibitions loosening as they found themselves sprawled on the floor, Y/N playfully investigating them from her perch on the couch. As the night unfolded, they embraced the weird intimacy of their shared moments, the alcohol-induced haze adding to the boldness of their hangout.

"How long have you known each other?" Y/N inquired, her curiosity piqued as she leaned back on the couch, her eyes flickering between Mark and Haechan.

"Since we were 12," Mark replied, launching into a detailed account of their shared history, recounting the years spent at a preppy all-boys boarding school.

“It makes sense, you guys seem really close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were boyfriends at first,” Y/N admitted with a half-serious tone, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “And as much as I tease you guys, I’m not a homewrecker,” she added, her words causing both boys to flush crimson and nearly choke on their beers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Mark interjected hastily, wiping his beer-covered mouth with the back of his hand. Despite his initial embarrassment, Haechan couldn't help but giggle as a memory from a few years ago resurfaced.

"Well, actually..." Haechan began, but Mark caught wind of what he was about to say and attempted to interject. However, Y/N's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned forward, her attention solely focused on Haechan as she urged him to continue, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Well, a few years ago, Mark needed help learning how to kiss a girl, right?" Haechan started, prompting an audible groan from Mark, who buried his face in a nearby pillow, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Haechan continued, his laughter slightly slurred from the alcohol. "So, he asked for my help," he admitted, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as Mark retaliated with a punch to his arm.

"Markie over here didn't lose his virginity until he was like 20, and he definitely was late on kissing girls," Haechan teased, earning another embarrassed groan from Mark. "So, around this time, we were about 17 or 18-ish, and little Markie here comes to me, all upset, saying some girl from his class asked him out, but he's nervous because he's never kissed a girl before."

Y/N nodded, intrigued by the unfolding story, her eyes flickering between Haechan and Mark. "So, we sat in my bedroom, watching kissing videos on fucking pornhub, weird, right?" Haechan chuckled, glancing at Mark, who looked away in embarrassment.

"And then I told him to apply that to me," Haechan continued, his tone tinged with amusement. "And we kissed. He actually wasn't too bad, surprisingly, a bit better than some of the girls I've been with," he confessed honestly raising his arms up , chuckling as Mark reprimanded him for telling the story.

"See, I knew there was something between you two," Y/N remarked with a giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned back on the couch, reveling in the shared intimacy of their conversation.

“Ugh, it was one time. I’d rather have a tennis ball hit at my balls full speed than kiss him again.” Mark whines as Haecahn laughs at the boy.

For a minute the room went silent at the and Y/N stared at both of the boys mischievously before sitting up on the couch and patting each spot next to her.

“Come here,” she says, eyeing both of the boys as they both perk up in synchronicity.

“Which one of us?”

Y/N just shrugs as both boys quickly join her on the couch.

The tension in the air is electrifying as Y/N turns to face Haechan. His big brown eyes are beautiful and full of mischief; she’s never been this close to him before, and she can see the little moles on his face, which fit his golden skin so well. She leans in, landing a kiss on his soft, plump lips. She whines into this kiss, slightly tugging at his hair as he squeaks at the sudden pain, which felt so good at the same time. She can taste the cigarette smoke on his breath with the combo of beer and peppermint he and Mark popped in the midst of their earlier conversation. The taste was so addicting that she almost didn’t want to pull away.

Mark is sitting on the other side of her, watching everything go down. His heart is beating out of his chest, and he feels blood rush down his pants. He doesn’t know if he feels jealously or turned on, maybe a combo of both, but holy shit, this has to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Haechan whines as his eyes flutter open, his eyelashes tickling Y/N’s cheek as he slowly pulls away , watching as Y/N turns to mark.

“Don’t think I forgot you, Markie.”

The boy blushes at the nickname he’s never heard her say before, and he can feel himself getting more and more antsy as she leans in, crashing his lips into hers.

Not to much surprise, Mark was way more of a messier kisser than Haechan. Maybe it was just desperation, but Mark was practically eating Y/N’s mouth, devouring her entirely. Haechan giggled watching Mark try and be in control, only for Y/N to bite his lips, causing him to yelp a bit as his pink lips open slightly and Y/N takes this opportunity to stick her tongue in his mouth. After awhile, Mark gets a hang of it, and their tongues dance in each other's mouths, swapping spit that tasted of alcoholic peppermint nicotine, and cherry lipgloss which only made them feel more dizzy.

She threads her slender hands through Mark’s pitch-black hair. Tugging it like she did Hyuck’s causing Mark to moan loudly into her mouth. Y/N giggles against his mouth before slowly separating a trail of spit, connecting their mouths together.

“Okay no homo, but that was so fucking hot,” Haechan says, staring at the two lust evident in his lidded eyes as they all giggle at his remark.

“Come a bit closer. Y/N commands softly but sternly. Both boys quickly obey, not questioning her intentions one bit.

Y/N turns again to kiss Haechan, he eagerly engulfs her lips, as Y/N feels a strong hand trailing her body, to her surprise not wanting to be left out Mark’s hand is swirling on her thigh, hiking up her floral green dress before tracing his hand around her whole body finding her neck.

Y/N moans from the stimulation of Haechan’s tongue, hungrily exploring her mouth and then desperate touch of Mark’s finger tips surveying her neck. Mark then latches his mouth on Y/N’s neck, causing an high pitched moan causing her to pull away a bit from Haechan. The slow peppered kisses turn into biting as Mark sucks little mark’s on her neck (lol). Haechan grabs her thighs, before moving close to kiss her deeper. He can feel her mouth vibrate in his as his friend leaves trails all along her long neck.

Haechan being competitive person he was, moves his hand up closer, finding her soaked black panties and trailing his fingers around hee clit slowly from the outside. Y/N arches her back in pleasure unintentionally moving away from Mar’s assault on her neck.

“Holy Shit, you’re so fucking wet.” Haechan stammers in awe. Y/N needly whines as Haechan moves his fingers a little bit more.

"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this; you’re so weird.” He says, laughing, as she rolls her eyes too horny to argue.

Mark, who is just as competitive, was raking his brain trying to figure out how to one up on Haechan. He begins to move his hand down from her neck, to her dress so he can grope her tits. Before he could get a chance, Y/N swiftly pushed the boys back, seizing their hands of in a sudden, decisive move. Their faces morphed into surprise and confusion , gazing at her with pleading, puppy-like expressions.

She coos as them opening her mouth to speak, her throat slightly hoarse from their activities. Turning to Mark, she plants a gentle kiss on his lips, then repeats the gesture with Haechan. With a smirk on her face, she draws both of their lips close to hers, initiating a three-way , all their lips drunkily taking each other's in, in a blissful haze. They weren’t worried about anything in the world other than tasting each other. Moans escape their lips, the sounds were so lewd, but melodic at the same time. Their tongues poke out exploring one another eagerly, mingling saliva as they hungrily devour each other's essence.

Y/N leans back, her eyes half-lidded, savoring the scene unfolding before her. In a sneaky movement, she removes herself from the embrace of the two boys. Watching as, the brown and black-haired boy’s become lost in each other's lips, completely oblivious to the fact that Y/N is no longer in the middle.

Sensations of warmth and arousal intensify within her as she continues to observe the scene before her, slowly biting her lips lustfully. With each passing moment, their kisses grow more fervent, each boy trying to fight for dominance. Haechan emerges victorious, asserting his control over Mark with a deep moan inducing kiss. His fingers tangle in Mark's soft hair, eliciting raspy moans of desire from the other boy. Haechan responds with a throaty groan, deepening their kiss with an insatiable hunger to please.

Y/N gasps softly, as she moves her hand to her black panties, slowly sticking her hand in and playing with her clit area as she softly pants, watching the scene in front of her.

The boys come to an erupt stop, as their ears hear the melodic voice of what seems to be an angel in disguise. They open their eyes and look at each other, both of the boys eyes were blown out, their pupils huge and lips swollen as they back away from each other. They turn their attention to the girl laying back on the couch in-between them, they eyes follow her delicate fingers, watching her play with her soaked cunt caused by them. A groan is drawled out of both of the boys, both of them hard as they feel their pants strain against them.

Mark's gaze scans over Y/N's form, taking in every detail before exchanging a knowing glance with Haechan, silently conveying his intentions. With a mischievous grin, he moves towards Y/N, prompting her to let out an unexpected shriek as he scoops her up into his arms.

As Mark carries her, Haechan follows closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the hallway as they make their way to Haechan's room. Haechan throws open the door, and Mark gently sets Y/N onto the bed. Y/N confidently giggles, scooting back against some soft pillows as Mark gets up to close the bedroom door.She looks up and down at the boys, before clearing her throat.

“I’m in charge. I hope you guys know that,” she says, crossing her arms as Mark joins Haechan and her on the bed.

“And for the love of God, use condoms; I don’t know where your dick’s have been.” She snickers as Haechan points to the dresser next to her, signaling her to open it.

She opens a brown drawer to find a pack of condoms before tossing them on the bed.

“How often does this happen? going after the same girl, I mean?” Y/N says, giggling.

“Not as often as you think” Haechan says, as Mark nods, saying they tend to have different types.

Y/N hums looking at them.

“What makes me so different?”

The way she said it was so sultry, almost like it was a challenge, which, for some reason, turned on the two even more.

“Please let us show you.” Mark says, inching closer, and Y/N nods at the eager boy, patting his head.

“Be my fucking guest.”. she replies shortly.

She slowly pulls off her dress, revealing the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits sit perfectly, and she turns to Haechan as she hears a loud groan from him. She giggles, slowly taking off her pants, getting a gasp from Mark.

“Ugh, Y/N, please stop teasing us.” Mark says strained. His eyes were dark and desperate, as the girl ahushed him before flinging her panties at him. Catching them he brings his nose up to the piece fabric taking in the scent and groaning.

“You’re such a freak,” Y/N says, laughing before turning her attention to the two boys equally.

“Strip,” she says in one word, and in a whirlwind, both of the boys are sitting on the fluffy, king-size bed naked in front of her.

“Fuck.” Y/N mutters, looking at the two.The vigorous practice, plus the diet and gym routine she had given both of the boys, had them looking too fucking good. Both of their bodies were so toned and sculpted, with flat tummies and abs that would make any Greek god jealous. Y/N let out a small moan at this beautiful sight.

“Eager, much?.” Haechan cheekily says, eyeing her.

“Don’t get too cocky; remember, I’m the one calling the shots.” She says she is crawling towards the boy, grabbing his chin and squeezing is cheeks. Haechan nods. gazing at the girl, not even wanting to argue with the beautiful goddess in front of him. She then turns to face Mark, grabbing his chin as well with her free hand.

“Show me how bad you fucking want me,” she whispers loud enough for them to hear.

All of a sudden, hands are everywhere, grabbing at everything. The room is filled with desperation, sweat, and melodic sounds as both boys explore Y/N’s bodies. Their eyes took everything in as their fingers delved into every part of her body before Haechan decided to sink a slender finger in her cunt, receiving a shaky moan.

“Shush, baby, it’s okay; we’ve got you,” Mark says.

“Mmhm, we are going to take such good care of you.” Haechan adds, slowly pumping his finger in and out, feeling it get wetter and wetter.

“Fuckk, you’re so fucking wet.” Mark says watching as his best friend's fingers go in an out-of Y/N’s puffy cunt, he can’t help but slowly rub himself at the sight.

“Shut up, I’m in charge.” Y/N huffs out before being shushed.

“Oh, please, you love this; you’re so fucking wet from watching me and my best friend play with each other and play with you.” Haechan hums, adding an extra finger and slightly speeding up.

“You’re going to be so good for me and Markie, hm?” Haechans says, watching as the girl's eyes roll to the back of her head, slowly muttering a defeated, “Mhmm.”

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting you to give up this easily, he says before turning his attention to Mark. “Quit playing with your dick and join me.” He scoffs as Mark’s hands glide against Y/N’s tits, flicking and toying with her nipples, listening to the sounds of her moans like it’s the most beautiful song he’s ever heard.

He lowers his mouth to her perfect tits, clasping his mouth on the buds before sucking rhythmically. Y/N’s back arches, her cunt clenching around Haechan's fingers.

“Fuck Mark, keep doing that; her little cunt is squeezing my fingers so tight; fuckk, I bet it feels so good.”

Mark moans at his friends words as he sucks harder and plays with the other tit in his hand.

“Yeah, good boy, keep doing that.” Haechan says watching at how both Y/N and Mark react to the praise he gave Mark.

Mark groans at the praise, eyeing Haechan as intensifies his pace, eliciting louder and more desperate cries from Y/N. Her orgasm approaching rapidly, her moans escalating in getting higher and higher. However, just as she fills her organs about to wash over, Haechan abruptly stops, leaving Y/N to bolt up in frustration. "Ah! Why did you stop?" she groans, her expression a mix of defeat and longing, her eyes pleading with Haechan as Mark retreats, creating space between them.

“Because I don’t want you to cum yet,” he simply says.

“You need to cum on one of our cocks.” He adds, causing both Mark and Y/N to lewdly gasp.“Our Markie has been so good, don’t you think?” Haechan says, looking at y/n, her eyes sparking as she nods.

“Why don’t you give me a little treat? You know he’s been practicing so hard just to get your attention, just to get your number.” He trails off, and I think he deserves this“.

Y/N nods slowly, getting off the bed, and finding her way on her knees. She watches as Mark turns to face the edge of the bed, eyes looking down at her, and she swears she can see his heart being out of his chest.

“H-Hey, Y/N” Mark stutters lustfully.

“Hi Markie,” Y/N says just as lustfully before tracing a hand on his thigh, slowly grabbing his hard cock and pumping it.

Mark immediately reacts, bucking his hips as he lets out groans at the sensation.

“Open your hand.” Haechan says to Y/N as he sits next to Mark.

The girl obeys; opening her hands as Haechan spats in them. Mark tilts his head quizzically, then he feels his best friend's warm spit on his cock being pumped by the girl of any persons dreams, and he can’t help but absolutely lose his mind in the moment.

Haechan closes the small distance between him and Mark, his breath hot against his ear as he murmurs words of praise and desire, fueling the intensity of this scene. With a sense of urgency, he pulls Mark into a passionate kiss, their lips meeting in an electrifying embrace. The intensity of their kiss sparks a reaction from Y/N, who widens are mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip of Mark's cock, sending shivers coursing through his body as she begins to softly suck.

Breaking away from the kiss, Mark guides Y/N's flowy hair, urging her to go deeper, whimpering cutely in the proces. She complies, knowing exactly how to please him. Mark's head falls back, his hair disheveled, strands clinging to his forehead like he's just emerged from a heated tennis match. Occasionally, his gaze meets Y/N's big, doe-like eyes as she works her magic, causing a surge of arousal mixed with a pang of overwhelmingness to ripple through him. At this point Mark unable to tear his gaze away, even as the heat of the moment threatens to overwhelm him.

As Mark's hips buck forward, Y/N's hand travels up Haechan's thigh, her fingers finding his thick hard cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. "Holy fuck, this slut knows how to handle cocks," Haechan moans appreciatively, his voice thick with desire as he encourages her to quicken her pace. “Maybe tennis isn’t the only thing you’re good at- He stammers barely finishing his sentence so loss in pleasure. Y/N groans around Mark’s cock, as she can sense him getting closer by the twitching of his legs.

Sensing that he’s about to cum, she takes her hand off of Haechan, focusing all her attention on Mark. His exclamations of "fuck," "shit," and "dude" fill the air, punctuating the intensity of the moment as he edges closer to climax.

She takes him in the back of her throat as she feels his cock twitch in her mouth, releasing a slightly sweet and salty thick liquid, which she swallows half of before getting off her knees and turning to kiss Haechan, Mark’s cum still in her mouth.

Although he just came, Mark can feel himself getting hard all over again watching Y/N and his best friend swap his cum in their mouths before they swallow, it backing away from each other, smirking.

“Good job, Markie." she says pinching the boy's cheeks before she feels two bodies pin her down.

“Ah, we aren’t done with you just yet.” Haechan says as Y/N gulps a bit.

“Remember I said I wanted you to cum all over our cocks?”Y/N nods as Haechan smiles wickedly, looking at Mark. “So that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

“Mark, sit and watch how I tame this slut.” Mark nods obediently as he watches Y/N whimper at the degrading nickname. He watches as Haechan quickly slips a condom on and positions himself right in between Y/N’s sticky thighs.

“Beg for it,” Haechan says, looking down at the girl.

“Oh, cmon, Donghyuck, stop it.” She sassily says using his full name.

This causes Haechan to softly grab the girl's neck and getting near her ear.

“Be a fucking good girl and beg; you know you fucking want it.” He demands sternly, signaling that he is not playing any games. Y/N gulps before opening her mouth to beg.

“Please, hyuckie, I need your cock so bad, please fuck.” She breathed out slightly embarrassed, causing Haechan to evilly giggle at her submission.

“Fuck, I wish you could be like this all the time. He says as he slowly slips the tip in, causing the two to both moan.

“Oh fuck, this hurts.” Y/N whimpers, her eyes watering, as Mark glides his hand over her hair, playing with it, hushing her and whispering sweet words.

“Oh, cmon, you can’t take it,” Haechan says, slowly lowering himself more as he feels her tight pussy squeeze around him.

“See, you’re squeezing around me, and I can feel you getting wetter, you fucking love it,” he says, bottoming out and pushing his fat cock into her.

She moans, almost crying, as Mark continues to play with her hair, trying to calm her down as Haechan begins to go at a steady pace.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight and wet, you’re swallowing my fucking cock whole.”

Y/N moans in esctacy as the pain fades into pure pleasure.

“S-sooo good, hyuckie.” She purrs, her eyes squeezing closed .

“Aht, open those pretty eyes doll, Haechan says, reaching down to grab her face.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you, slut.” He ordered causing Y/N to gush around him, only makes him speed up.

“Yeah, you like that? You like when I degrade you while my soft little best friend coddles you, hm?” Y/N whimpers, shaking her head and babbling incoherent nonsense as Mark pulls her hair a bit.“Use your words when Haechan is talking to you baby.” Mark says, surprising both Haechan & Y/N.

“Y-yes, sir,” Y/N stammers.

“Well, who are you talking to, Haechan or Me?” Mark says sternly tugging a bit more as she utters both softly.

“Yeah, that’s our good girl,” Mark says, feeling this surge of confidence out of nowhere.

Mark watches as Haechan continues to fuck Y/Ns cunt, igniting a pang of jealousy within him. He wants more than anything to feel her warm cunt coating his cock. He groans at the thought of it, wishing he could trade places with Haechan.

Haechan laughs, looking at Mark’s desperate state, before raising an eyebrow practically reading the boy’s mind .

“You want a turn?”

Mark eagerly nods as, slowly pulls out of Y/N, she moans at the absence.

“Oh, don’t be so sad, doll; Markie just wants a turn.” Hyuck winks before moving so Mark can get in between her thighs. Mark shuffles off the bed before looking at Y/N’s needy state.

There was something so hot about seeing their arrogant, sassy “coach” absolutely fucking desperate. Her eyes were glazed and wet as a few tears stained her beautiful cheeks; the makeup she had on from the party was smeared; her lips plump and swollen; and in the dim bedroom light, he could make out the marks and hickeys from earlier on her neck.

His eyes trailed down to her cunt; it’s still wet and waiting to be touched. He notices that it’s a bit puffy and swollen from Haechan’s assault on it.

Mark groans, biting his lip before hovering over the girl closer.

“Hey!” he says looking down into her beautiful eyes.

“Hi Markie.” She gives me a half-smile, her eyes pleading to be used.

Before she could say anything else, she yelps as she felt herself being flipped over on her stomach. Mark quickly grabbing her hair into a make shift pony, as she arched back from pleasure and pain.

Haechan whistles as he makes a comment not realizing Mark was such an “ass guy” Mark ignored him and rubs y/n’s ass groaning before giving a small slap, she moans enjoying it more than she’d like to admit.

“You like that, hm?” Mark says, using his surge of confidence

“Mayb-.” Her sentence is cut off as she feels Mark slide into her wet cunt. She moans at how deep he feels. Haechan may be thick, but Mark’s cock was so long, and Y/N swears she can feel it hitting every spot as he begins to thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He groans, pushing her face down into the pillow.

“Shhhhh, be quiet, baby,” Mark says, speeding up absolutely loss in bliss.

Haechan, on the other hand, was totally enjoying the show; he decided to let his friend take over because, for some reason, he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time something like that happened. So he sat on the other end of the bed, pumping his cock, watching his best friend fuck Y/N so desperately.

Haechan pumps his thick cock faster his tip is bright red and his hands slightly slippery, a mix of spit, cum, and the wetness from being Y/N’s warm cunt. Haechan moans, eyes glued at the sight.

Mark can feel himself getting closer and closer as he speeds up.“F-fuck mark, I'm going to cum please, please.” Y/N whimpers into the pillow; they can almost barely make out her garbled speech as Mark speeds up even faster. He reaches his hand to toy with her clit, causing her to cry into the pillow in pleasure.

“Fuck yes, cum all over my cock, baby, show me how good we make you feel,” Mark moans, feeling his orgasm catch up as well.

With one hand Haechan lifts Y/N’s head up from the pillow as he feverishly pumps his thick cock. Reaching his breaking point , he groans her name, glazing her face in his warm cum. This in turn caused Y/N to clench around Mark’s cock even more. Mark began to quickly rub on Y/N’s swollen clit area as she lets out a string of strained moans cumming all over him.

She clenches one more time around his cock due to the overestimation, which in turn causes Mark to throw his head back, cumming with a loud moan.

The trio are all frozen for a bit before Mark slips his now soft cock out of Y/N. He takes the cum filled condom and sits it on the floor as Haechan gets up and grabs a t-shirt.

“Y/N, don’t move,” they both say at the same time. Mark leaves the room for a second, as Haechan gently begins to wipe his cum off her face.

“You know you’re very pretty,” Haechan says, staring at her. Although tired, the girl laughs, stating, I know, and thanking Haechan for cleaning her up. He nods as he watches as Mark comes back in with some clothes and some water bottles.He hands a bottle to Haechan before handing Y/N some of his own spare boxers and one of Haechan’s old t-shirts.

“I got them right out of the dryer; they’re super clean.” Y/N thanks the boy before changing in front of them.

If they thought she was beautiful before, something about both of the boys seeing her in their clothes made her 100 times more beautiful.

“So, are you just going to stare, or are we going to cuddle or something?” Y/N says, giggling

“I didn’t take you as a cuddler.” Haechan’s mutters

“Okay, and I didn’t expect to have a three-way with you losers; guess today is just full of surprises.” They all chuckle as they opt to all go into Mark’s room since Haechan’s sheets were soiled from their little activities.

Hand in hand, they walk the short stride to Mark’s room before they all settle under the covers. as Mark puts on some random tennis match.

“So, who’s a better kisser?” Y/N half jokingly teases, looking at Mark as he blushes.

“No comment,” he says, embarrassed, as Haechan laughs at the two.

“Sooo, can we get your number now? I mean, we literally just fucked.” Haechan says sneakily.

Y/N laughs before sinking under the covers.

“Nope, whoever wins the game tomorrow, remember, ahh, or should I say today?” Y/N evilly laughs, looking at the clock in Mark’s room, which reads 3:35 a.m..

“I would get some rest tonight, just saying.”

Both boys eyes widen in shock as their eyes land on the clock, groaning at the time.

“Remember, boys, this is a game about winning the points that actually matter.” Y/N softly says before closing her eyes to go to bed.

Leaving both boys sitting up to rack through their brains. How the fuck are they going to beat one another?

•

HIIII my first full fic LOL!! i’m oddly so proud of it 😭😭😭 i loved challengers and immediately had to do a markhyuck version !!! if u haven’t seen this movie pls go see it LOL!!💞💞☺️

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