#ended up on the same arm bc my knee skin sucks apparently

[wellenklavier]

these r the artists photos lol (matthew hall) but look at my tatties

[jinkicake]

Heeeyyyyyy! I was the one who asked for the cat passing comfort with Seijoh Karasuno and Kamomedai pls!

Hi~~~ Pls let me know if you want me to try and write more for any of these (like Karasuno's isn't as long as the others bc I found it so hard to write)!!! Sigh, I've never cried while writing something before but,, I did sob while writing these LMFAO so they might be bad and poorly edited,,, senior pet owner tingz :PPPP Anyway~ (also it was my first time writing with Kamomedai so... I hope they are in character...)

WC- 3k

Kamomedai

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Hirugami quietly starts, slowly opening the classroom door in a calming manner. “I heard everything,” The middle blocker nearly cringes but ultimately contains his composure, how the hell is he supposed to lighten the situation. “I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

One look into your tearful expression and frazzled state tells Hirugami everything, of course, you’re not okay.

“It’s alright, Hirugami, really.” You offer him a wobbly smile, one that does you more harm than good as a sob crawls its way up your throat. Quickly, you try to wipe a tear off of your cheek before swallowing tightly and trying again. “You should get to practice.”

Hirugami wants to desperately run his hand through his hair and express his frustrations but, he remains calm for you and for the situation. Why can’t you just express your feelings with him?

“Hirugami! (Y/N)! We have practice, let’s go!” Hoshiumi’s voice rings throughout the classroom, abruptly stopping when he notices your tearful expression. “Oh no. Hirugami how could you reject (Y/N)!” Hoshiumi complains, groaning out loud, at the confession scene and his friend’s lack of taste.

“It’s not that, that’s not what’s happening here.” Hirugami tries to explain, gesturing generously with his hands in order to keep his ace at bay.

“I’m just dealing with something personal.” You quietly whisper and finally gather your things off of your desk.

“(Y/N),” Hirugami attempts to stop you, placing his arm out in front of you so that you can’t get past the door.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You nearly choke, your flustered state getting the best of you. You feel like you might melt to the floor any second now, you’re so overwhelmed and your teammates are not making it any easier. “Please let me go to practice.”

Hirugami hesitantly lifts his arm up, watching you as you flee from the classroom and out into the hallway. It’s so silent and tense in the room, he all but sighs.

“I got it mixed up, didn’t I?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly scratching his head as he closes his eyes in thought. “(Y/N) rejected you, didn’t they?”

“No, it was not a confession scene.” Hirugami clarifies as he grabs his bag and walks out into the hallway, after you.

“What was it then?” Hoshiumi can’t help but get nosy, he’s curious and might explode if he doesn’t find out what exactly happened.

“I don’t really think it is my place to tell you. I’m not even supposed to know.” This time, Hirugami sighs loudly and his eyebrows furrow in worry. He’s not even sure why he is so distraught over this, if it’s because of you or the situation you’re in. “Apparently, their cat has to be put down.” His voice is so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. Not even Hoshiumi has anything to say right away.

“That’s really upsetting, (Y/N) always talks about that old hag.” Hoshiumi somberly stares ahead of him, his worry growing just as quickly as his teammates. “They don’t want to talk about it?”

“I guess not.” Hirugami frowns and stubbornly acknowledges your will.

“Then we just have to be there for them! Give (Y/N) support like they give us!” Hoshiumi lightly taps his cheeks, bracing his game face. “Subtly show support while acting as normal as possible.”

Hirugami wants to sigh, that’s easier said than done.

“Come on, let’s go out to eat!” Hoshiumi announces as he steps in front of your path the minute practice is over, he crosses his arms over his chest to ensure that you don’t get away from him.

“I’m not really in the mood,” You sigh and shift the strap of your bag higher up on your shoulder. “you and Hirugami go.”

“(Y/N), we need you to babysit,” Suwa calls from the supply closet, busying himself with a mindless task. As a second-year it was only natural for Suwa to put you in charge of the other second years, specifically the most animated ones.

“I’m tired!"

“If those two get in trouble then it’s on you,”

“Fine, fine. Where are we going?” You bitterly blink back tears of frustration that have welled up in your eyes and try to remain calm, in reality, all you want to do is go home and sleep. The mere thought of your warm bed waiting for you is enough to have you sniffling in irritation. At your question, Hoshiumi gives you a supportive pat on the back as his head tilts up in thought.

“Let’s just go to a convenience store!”

“And have a picnic?” You ask sarcastically but Hoshiumi’s eyes light up, the idea clearly resonates with him.

“Yes! Let’s go! Let’s go!” The shorter second year grabs his close friend by the arm and pulls the three of you close together. “Hirugami, let’s go!”

The walk to the convenience store isn’t long, if anything, Hoshiumi fills up the silence with endless chatter. Rants rest on his lips as he recalls events from earlier in the day, he’s all too consumed with his words to even notice you and Hirugami trailing a few paces behind him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hirugami asks lowly, dipping his head to ensure that you can hear him. “Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m fine,” You quietly murmur back, biting down on your tongue and hoping that if you say the lie enough that you’ll start to believe it.

“I know that you aren’t,” Hirugami continues to push, his head tilts back as he stares up at the night sky and not at the frustrated look on your face.

“What do you want me to say, Hirugami?” You finally snap, your anger boiling beneath the surface, your voice is loud enough that it even catches Hoshiumi’s attention.

“What?”

“I have to lose someone special to me, important to me? That I’ll never see again? Do you really think that I am okay? What kind of stupid question is that?!” You spit, voice raising in octaves as your nerve ends begin to fry.

“(Y/N),” Hoshiumi tries to gently rest his hand over yours but you snap your wrist away before he gets the chance.

“No, I am not okay, Hirugami. Stop pushing me about it.” Your water eyes do nothing to help your case and you bitterly try to push them away with the heel of your palm.

“Don’t forget that we are here for you!” Hoshiumi declares, his voice holding that same serious tone that you only hear during matches. “Just tell us. We want to be here for you.”

His words only make your defenses crack even further and when Hirugami opens his arms, you just about lose it. When one of your closest friends offers a hug, who are you to deny it? Even Hirugami hums in thought.

“We’ll always be with you, (Y/N). Don’t go quiet on us.”

Karasuno

“(Y/N),” Sugawara quietly gasps as he enters the gym early one morning. The last thing the setter expected to see was you, bawling your eyes out, just as the sun was beginning to rise. “what’s wrong?”

You push your tears away with your palms before finally looking up to meet your friend’s worried gaze, his doe eyes only making you feel more anxious.

“Nothing, I mean,” You suck in a harsh breath and try to keep the tears at bay, but to no avail. “my cat has to be put down.”

Sugawara can only watch with an aching heart as you curl in on yourself, bringing your knees to your chest as you sob into your hands.

“Sorry, I was trying to stay calm but I just found out and,” You’re unable to speak as another sob wracks your body, Sugawara is by your side before you can even blink. He gently places one of his hands on your band, softly rubbing circles into your skin while trying to calm you down. “I think I am just going to skip practice.”

“No one would blame you,” Your friend gently coos, momentarily making eye contact with a first-year who had just entered the gym. Tsukishima, followed by Yamaguchi, only makes a face at the scene before him as he enters the locker room. Yamaguchi offers the two of you a sympathetic smile and then follows his friend. “people are starting to enter the gym, do you want to leave?”

All you can do is nod.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Or the rest of the team, any of us can help.” Sugawara gently leads you to your shared classroom, offering you tissues from his bag as he does so. “Daichi and Asahi will do anything for you, you know this.” The playfulness in his words makes you softly smile.

“I’ll let you know if I can think of anything.” You reassure him and Sugawara grabs his hand in yours before offering a heartfelt squeeze.

“Can I tell them what’s going on, the team?” Sugawara is surprised by your tight nod and your verbal acceptance.

“I think, if I’m going to be absent from practice the next couple of days then it’s only fair.”

“Hmm, alright,”

The next you saw of any of your team members was until later in the day. Much to your surprise, you were practically tackled by a short first year as he desperately clung to your arm as a supportive gesture.

“(Y/N)! I hear what happened, I’m so sorry,” Hinata pouts, his hair visibly deflating under his sympathy. “I love your cat! You always take the best pictures of them!”

“Oh, thanks, Hinata.” Your smile turns wobbly as you face the first year and you glance up at the ceiling to try and hold back any tears.

“Do you want me to go with you to the vet? Or we can hang out after school to get your mind off of it?”

“Hinata, I really appreciate it, but aren’t you only procrastinate to find a way to get out of doing your homework.” You tease him and gently flick his forehead, to which the younger player’s nose scrunches up in denial.

“No, of course not! Tsukishima is going to help me study!” Hinata almost screeches, desperate to get you to believe him.

“Is he really?” Your disbelief must be apparent on your face, judging by the dejected sigh from Hinata you must’ve caught him right in the lie.

“No."

The rest of the day followed as normal, it was as if nothing had changed but you still had that impending feeling of dread clouded over you.

Well, your day wasn’t completely normal. Even your shyer first years had come up to speak with you, Kageyama and Tsukishima had even gone as far as to mutter their condolences without so much of a hint of sarcasm.

It seemed as if you were still surrounded by the same level of chaos that you were already accustomed to. Except, Nishinoya and Tanaka’s screams in your ear were much quieter than normal.

Your entire team knew something was going on and were all going to support you through it.

Seijoh

“(Y/N)?” Kindaichi gently calls out your name, poking his head around the corner when he hears your quiet sobs. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He timidly tries to reach out to you but is too unafraid to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing to upset you even more.

Kindaichi has no idea of what to do when someone is crying.

“Obviously not.” Kunimi sneers and judgmentally glares at his friend, his overall face softens when he looks back at you. “(Y/N)?”

“I heard my poor manager’s sobs from a mile away! Baby, what’s wrong?” Oikawa pushes past his underclassmen dramatically, skillfully dodging a hit from Iwaizumi when the pet name leaves his lips. The setter sits right next to you on the bench and wraps his arms around your shoulders before pulling you into his chest, the warmth of his chest melts all of your resistance away and you can’t help but sob into his chest.

It’s a few minutes before you can pull yourself together, to even form a coherent sentence.

Iwaizumi sits on the other side of you and gently rubs your back while the two first years had run to find their other upperclassmen.

“My cat,” You start out, trying your best to swallow the sob in your throat. Even as tears well up in your eyes you try to push through it, just to get it out. “she has to be put down.” Although your voice is soft and just barely above a whisper, it still echos in the empty hallway.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Iwaizumi speaks up and nearly flicks off Oikawa when he notices his captain tearing up. “You know we’re always here for you whenever you need it.”

“Always, always!” Oikawa sobs, finally breaking as he wraps his arms around you even tighter. He practically squeezes the life out of you and refuses to let you go.

And as much as Iwaizumi loves to tease Oikawa for being so sensitive, as the cancer he is, he can’t help but appreciate the sympathy he is able to deliver.

“We’ll be there any day that you need it.”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa are, they follow through with their words, and even rope in Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The other third years don’t even have to be asked when the situation is explained to them, they’re there before Oikawa can even notice it.

“Be graceful.” Oikawa lowly warns with a brightly fake smile, narrowing his eyes at his friends. “We have to be helpful to our manager.”

“Obviously, dumbass.” Iwaizumi spits out and pushes past him to ring your doorbell, patiently waiting for you to answer your door.

“Iwaizumi?” You furrow your brows as you open the door wide enough for just your face to be seen, the wider it grows the more people come into your view. “What are you all doing here?”

“Moral support!” Oikawa pouts as he offers you a hug, one that you gratefully accept. Matsukawa places his hand on Oikawa’s shoulders and leans in just enough for the setter to hear what he has to say.

“Real graceful.” After he pats his shoulder, Matsukawa enters your house with his other friends trailing behind him.

“Do you want something to eat?” Hanamaki offers as he quickly finds himself in your kitchen. “You’ve eaten lately, right?”

“Umm, sorta?” You have to drag Oikawa further into your home and blink away the fresh tears pooling in your eyes once you notice just how quiet it is. “it’s fine.”

“Here, here, they’ll make you something~” Oikawa coos and pushes you onto your couch before sitting down right beside you. Hanamaki has to bite back the insult that is simmering on his tongue.

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s the best at comfort.” Iwaizumi whispers quietly, trying to keep his glare in front of him and not on his best friend. “Let him do his thing.”

“His thing? You mean sympathy?” Matsukawa nearly rolls his eyes and goes down to sit beside you on the couch.

“I’m sure she loved you very very much, (Y/N)! You always had so many stories about her and so much history together!” Oikawa tries to reassure you and places his hands over the tops of your own. “You can tell me more stories, oh, or let’s name a holiday after her!”

“So good at comfort.” Hanamaki coughs and ducks the moment Iwaizumi swings at him, almost fighting back with the spoon in his hand.

“(Y/N), it was her time and that’s okay, you know that right?” Matsukawa asks you, staring intently at the side of your face as you numbly stare ahead. All you can muster is a weak nod as you feel your throat tighten up and tears stubbornly pinching at the corner of your eyes. “She loved you very much and will be okay, she’s doing better now.”

“I understand, Matsukawa.” You shakily whisper and are unable to swallow the sob in your throat. “It’s just hard without her.”

“I know, (Y/N).”

Oikawa whimpers quietly beside you and pulls you into his chest as he tries to hide his teary expression from your view.

“We will make a beautiful garden for her! Or, or name a street after her!” The captain can’t stop himself from trying to help come up with a comforting memorial, something to help you grieve.

“Whatever it is that you pick (Y/N),” Iwaizumi finally comes into view and pushes an ice cream sandwich to you as an offer. “we’ll be here to help support you. Forever how long you need.”

“Always, (Y/N)!” Hanamaki yells from your kitchen as Matsukawa gently tugs on your sweater.

“For now,” Iwaizumi pauses before taking a seat on your floor. “why don’t you tell us some of your favorite memories while Hanamaki finishes cooking what he thinks to be your favorite dish.”

“It is their favorite! They told me themselves!” Hanamaki retorts back, defending himself as Matsukawa lifts his hand in a gesture meaning he can vouch.

“Or tell us funny stories about her.” Oikawa sniffles, smoothly wiping the tear off of his cheek. “Or we can watch your favorite tv show? Or we can go get your favorite snacks like a little trip down to the convenience store?”

“Whatever it is, (Y/N), we’ll do it.” Iwaizumi tells you firmly, looking you deep enough in the eye for you to know that he means every word of it.

@kiwibirdmother

[folkloreguk]

[08:00 pm] (m)

A/N: Yes this has a time stamp as name bc I couldn’t think of one rip…anyway I’m back with something after like two months and I hope you like it! x

words: 2.8k 

genre: smut (optional bias male x female reader), light bondage, dom!bias, aftercare bc no one ever writes about it :// 

[masterlist in description]

It had been two weeks since you had talked about wanting to try this. Two times you had let him practice, and today was another of those days. Of course, you enjoyed it, but it was the most difficult thing when it came to maintaining your patience. That’s why you knew he loved it. A small sigh came from you, when his hand accidentally brushed your nipple.

“I’ve barely started, you know?” he teased you. Oh, how he loved to tease you. It only made you squirm more in his touch. You were standing in front of him, completely bare. He was sat on the edge of the bed, tying a rope around your body. There were so many knots and ways he had found to use your new toy, and he was adamant on trying them all. On you. Sometimes you could distract yourself for a few minutes, by looking out the window or thinking of something that wasn’t him. But in the end, you were feeling his hands on you, without him really touching you, and it drove you to insanity.

“Turn around, my love,” he ordered, softly touching your hips. You did as he said. There was a rope bound around your upper body, and you felt him get up. Your back felt a little ticklish when he tied a knot there. Goosebumps rose on your skin when his hot breath fanned over your neck.

“You’re gonna look so pretty, when this is done, aren’t you?” he asked. You bit your lip in anticipation and nodded.

“And what are you going to do when it’s done?” you asked back. He motioned for you to turn back around. Knowing you were getting less patient, he only chuckled and smiled at you. He loved testing you. But you wouldn’t give in just yet. You weren’t going to beg him, not until you were completely desperate. Minutes went on, and you focused on the wall ahead of you, instead of him. But it was no use, either way. Even without looking at him, you were all too familiar with the way he looked when he was concentrating. The way he sometimes bit his lip when he was focusing on a task, or how he would clench his jaw if it wasn’t quite working the way he wanted it to.

You whimpered when his hand brushed past your center, tying the rope around your thigh. The cocky smile on his face only made you want him more.  

“What do you want me to do when it’s done, baby girl?” he asked, a late response to your previous request. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you would’ve rather shown him. But you had made rules. Rule one: Keep your hands to yourself until he allows you to touch him. But you couldn’t keep still any longer.

Wanting to kiss him, your hands came to cup his face and you bent down a little. As your hands moved to the back of his neck to play with his hair and you wanted to connect your lips, he reached for your wrists. The look he gave you was a reminder that made you regret your actions.      

“Getting touchy, are we?” He pushed your hands to your sides and you kept them there.

“I don’t like waiting for so long,” you complained. “Aren’t you getting impatient?”

Now, he was getting up. A little excitement sparked inside of you, but he only grabbed another piece of rope and turned you around again. Softly, he took both of your hands and moved them to your back, where he proceeded to tie them.

You couldn’t help but smile a little, because even though you wouldn’t be able to touch him now, there was something even more exciting about it. Softly, he kissed your neck, noticing your smile.

“You like it this way, don’t you?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you replied, grinning. Had he been stricter, he would have never let you tease him like that. But he loved you too much to punish you for every little thing. Instead, he liked to tease you back.

“Now that you look all pretty, there’s something you can do for me,” he said and you turned around to face him. You knew what he was talking about when he unzipped his pants. Voluntarily, you dropped to your knees, trying hard to ignore the wetness between your legs.

When he had undressed, he sat down on the edge of the bed. For a moment you looked up at him and saw him biting his lip at the sight of you.

“I love your lips,” he said, his finger touching your bottom lip for a moment. When you slightly opened your mouth, he placed two of his fingers on your tongue. On reflex, you closed your mouth around his digits and licked around them, sucking a little. You thought you saw a glimpse of weakness in his eyes when you looked up at him at the same time. Visibly, he swallowed, slowly removing his fingers from your mouth.

Instead, he then guided his member into your open mouth. The moment your warm lips had wrapped around him, he hissed. Slowly, you bobbed your head, running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. When you reached the top, you swirled your tongue around it, knowing he loved it. He groaned in agreement, leaning back and steadying himself on his arms. You watched him. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open slightly. Swear words fell from his mouth, and you felt the sudden urge to kiss his neck when you saw the way his head bent backwards. When he opened his eyes for a moment, he spotted you looking up at him. He leaned forward, running his hands through your hair.

“Just like that, doll.” He pushed the hair out of your face, so he could watch you more closely.

Softly, he guided your movement, not forcing you too hard. He didn’t have to, because you willingly tried to take as much of him as you could. The tip of his cock touched the back of your throat, and he swore under his breath, his hands gripping your hair tightly. Your eyes watered a little bit, but you loved the way he sounded too much to stop. But just when you tasted pre-cum, he gently pushed you back.

“Come here,” he ordered. “Now that you’ve been good, I should reward you, don’t I?”

You nodded as you looked into his eyes, getting up. He watched you for a while, softly stroking your sides as you waited for him to tell you what to do.

“Sit,” he said, pulling you into his lap so you were facing him. With the way he stared into your eyes, you had the sudden desire to touch his face. But you were reminded that you couldn’t. Your hands were still tied tightly behind your back. Instead, you leaned in and kissed him. He reacted quickly, grabbing the back of your neck and luring you closer to him. You let him take control as his tongue roamed your lips and finally touched yours.

Your body melted into his touch as his hands left no bit untouched. A small whimper from you sounded against his lips when he brushed his fingers along the inside of your thighs. Instantly, you felt him smile into the kiss. When his hands wandered to your back, he grabbed fistfuls of your hair, gently pulling it. You gave in, letting your head hang back as he began placing open mouthed kisses against your neck and chest. Instinctively, your back arched against him. The air felt cold on your skin in the places he had kissed, and you couldn’t help but let out more moans.

“My baby makes the prettiest sounds,” he mumbled against your skin before he raised his head. His smile read admiration and his hands held you like you were made of glass. “Do you want me to touch you?”

He knew your answer, but nonetheless, he loved hearing it from you.

“Yes. Touch me please,” you breathed, barely spoke. His hands wandered closer to where you wanted him. With what you could barely call a touch, they ghosted over your center. Your breaths were short, and when he actually slid his digits along your slit, covering them in your wetness, you whimpered weakly.

“So wet, and I didn’t even touch you,” he said. You only replied with a small sound when he rolled your clit between his fingers, before drawing random figures onto your center.              

You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around his neck, bury your head against his shoulder and quiet your whimpers against his skin. But he had one of his hands between your legs, while the other was holding your own hands on the small of your back, keeping you reminded of the rules.

He was making sure you didn’t get off too much, his touch simple and not too fast. Still, you writhed against his hand, wanting desperately to close your legs and get more friction.

“H/N,” you whined, even though you knew it would have no effect. His eyes were dark and stern when he looked into yours.

“If you hold still maybe I’ll let you come,” he spoke.

“It’s not that easy,” you said, your voice fading out into a whimper when he slid one of his fingers into you.

“I wanna see you try,” he challenged you, his lips dangerously close to yours. When you wanted to kiss him, he leaned back, not letting you have what you wanted again. In frustration, you groaned. His grip on your tied arms tightened and his fingers curled inside of you. He used his thumb to press against your clit harshly and you swore under your breath.

“Show me what a good girl looks like,” he said, his lips now inches from yours again. The more he kept up his sweet torture, the more desperate you became. You forced yourself to nod. Your entire focus was on trying not to move too much, while all your body wanted was to come all over his fingers right then.

“Can I come for you, please?” you asked, putting on your most innocent expression. Sometimes, when you asked nicely, he let you have what you wanted. But not today, apparently. He let go of your hands behind your back and cupped your chin. His lips were only inches from yours as he spoke.

“Do you think you get to break our rules and I’m just going to let you come so quickly?”

As fast as his fingers had moved inside of you, he removed his hand from your center. You whimpered in frustration, but you knew in the end it was your own fault. If only you hadn’t tried to touch him earlier.

“Come with me,” he kept whispering against your lips. For a moment you got up so he could climb to the headboard and lean against it. As he had ordered, you followed up.

“Sit in my lap, but turn around,” he said. Eager for any kind of touch and attention, you did so. You straddled him, your tied hands touching his lower stomach. Not being able to look at him wasn’t to your liking, but at the same time you had to admit, it had something exciting. He softly touched your neck, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. His hands then ran down your sides and moved to your thighs. You whimpered when his fingers slid between your dripping folds once again.

“Ride me, princess,” he whispered, his face right by your ear. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Humming, you nodded and looked back at him for a moment. His gaze was loving but simultaneously strict. You lifted your hips a little, so he could guide his member to your entrance.

“Slowly,” he said. You sank down on his length as he placed his hands on either side of your hips. He cussed as you took his whole length. Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation you had waited for for so long. Instinctively, you lifted your hips again, but you remembered his rule before you could break it again. Just as slowly as you had done it at first, you moved up and down.

“Just like that, doll,” he praised you. His hands lay on your hips, guiding your actions and making sure you did as he told you. Moans and whimpers fell from your lips, as you fell into a trance of pleasure and frustration. At this point you felt so sensitive, you were sure if only he touched you or let you ride him faster, it would only be a matter of seconds until you would come undone.

But this way you only built up your high very slowly. You felt his soft lips at the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings and telling you how good you were doing. You only managed to whimper in response, still desperately wishing you could touch him now. For a moment you focused on his heavy breaths and moans. Maybe for a moment too long. Because without you realizing, you were starting to speed up a little bit. The knot in your stomach seemed to twist tighter with every second, while stars danced in front of your eyelids. You felt his grip on your sides tighten.

“Steady, baby girl. We don’t wanna rush, do we?” he teased you, knowing exactly that it drove you mad. You admired his ability to control himself in situations like these.

“Please,” you begged weakly. He chuckled darkly.

“But you’re doing so good? Don’t you want to wait a little longer?” he asked, teasing you some more. You could practically hear his smirk in his voice.

“No, I want to come, please,” you whimpered, truthfully.

“I guess what my baby wants, my baby gets, huh?” he said. At the same time, one of his fingers slid between your slick folds. Your body reacted before your mind could. You clenched around his length, earning a groan from your boyfriend.

“Fuck, do that again,” he swore. Your legs instinctively wanted to close around his touch, but it was impossible since you were straddling him. His hand found your clit, circling around it and rolling it between his fingers. The sudden amount of pleasure was overwhelming after not getting enough for too long. Now, you also rode him faster, the sound of his hips slapping against yours being like music to your ears.

At this point, your mind was completely blank, and you doubted that any of the sounds that came from you made any sense at all. But you didn’t care. All you cared about was the feeling you were chasing. And he knew you all too well. He knew exactly how your moans changed, the closer you got to your orgasm. How you couldn’t properly form words and how your back arched off him.

“Come, baby girl,” he whispered into your ear. “Come for me.”

And then the knot in the pit of stomach untied. All at once, you saw stars in front of your eyelids, as you whimpered his name. Your hands behind your back were clenched to fists, wishing you could hold onto something.

“Don’t stop, baby,” he moaned. You sped up your actions while you were riding out your orgasm as you felt him twitch inside of you. When you came down from your high, you tried hard not to stop just yet, even though the sensitivity was almost unbearable. He snapped his hips upwards a few last times, before he reached his high as well. You loved the way he sounded when he came, and the way he grabbed onto your body, pulling you close. Then, you slowed down steadily, until you had both stopped moving completely.

His forehead was leaned against the back of your neck, his breathing a little ruptured against your skin. You felt a little sleepy, as you noticed his hands fumbling with the rope tied around your wrists.

“I love you,” he whispered, untying you. “You did so good.”

When he was done, you finally moved around to face him. Softly, he touched your skin where the rope had been, placing a kiss on it.

“I love you too,” you said, leaning forward to bury your head in the crook of his neck. Finally, you could hug him again. Tiredly, you yawned and closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Baby, I still need to untie the rest of the ropes,” he reminded you. In response, you hummed, but didn’t let go of him.

“Just a little longer,” you whispered, your eyelids only feeling heavier with every passing second. He chuckled softly, but obliged. His arms were warm and you felt cozy when he embraced you and held you for another while.

[seancekitsch]

Not to Touch the Earth

this is a prize buck 60s au bc apparently i have enough of an ego to do that

a/n & warnings: drug reference, alcohol references, no actual drug use, unprotected car sex, use of the word daddy, roughness, cult references, orgy references, none of this is even really prize buck canon but yknow we might reference it again for a joke or two. natural born killers reference also

“Some outlaws lived by the side of a lake, The minister's daughter's in love with the snake,” you sing off-key, “Who lives in a well by the side of the road. Wake up, girl, we're almost home!”

You punctuate the end of the verse by howling out the window of the car Klaus was using, voice being swallowed by the vastness of the desert somewhere on the California border. Klaus drove on, trying to remember a time you were ever so free. He figures you probably never were, not sober. Not totally sober like now. He was coming up on three years, you on six months, and your new favorite activity was definitely driving out into the desert, as far away from Klaus’ little commune as possible, and singing songs that hadn’t been written yet and making love on the hood of the car. 

He smiles and looks over, watching you lean out the window bathing in the golden light of the sunset and he has to laugh. Is this just what you’re like in a car? Or is it being trapped in time? Your first week here was spent avoiding any of his followers and trying to talk to any of the universities in San Francisco, but none of them would hire you because a woman with a doctorate was rare, and a woman professor was even rarer. You stopped trying in a fit of anger after one Dean told you your ‘husband was a brave man for letting his wife become so educated’ before offering to let you take undergraduate classes because those were available to women. So you leaned into helping him hide from the Destiny’s Children. You had fun here. You kept each other in check being sober, you kept him from being fully engulfed by the group. You like these people, you just wish they didn’t like you and your partner as much as they do.

But the times when the two of were alone were the best. Klaus loves stealing you away from everyone else and being with you like everything’s normal. He loves you without that twinge of shame you carry with you, without waking up with tears in your eyes and thinking he doesn’t notice them. You haven’t been crying or hiding it from him here. He loves how goofy you allow yourself to be, the way you don’t constantly hold yourself back.  He remembers back on earlier today, when you’d snuck up on him, licked a warm stripe up his neck and sang lyrics from the very song you were piecing together now.

“Not to touch the earth, not to see the sun. Nothin left to do but run run run,” you sang, only for him.

“Let’s run.”

You didn’t have to say it again before he grabbed the nearest set of car keys and was swatting at your ass to get you running for the passenger seat. 

You feel the hot air hit your skin, and you can’t remember a time you ever actually liked the heat. You never saw yourself even visiting southern California. Sobriety re-introduced you to the cold and you greeted her like an old lover. You like your cold weather and your jackets and your fucking hospital socks you stole and stockpiled which now didn’t even exist yet. But the heat here is different, it kisses your skin like Klaus does, frees you from the burdens of life fifty years from now. The heat is a reminder that you don’t have the struggles you had in 2019, the heat is a reminder you can rebuild yourself. You know you have to go back sometime, but you can be selfish and steal this time with Klaus. You squint into the setting sun on the horizon as Klaus makes the car slow, then veers off the empty road to park. You’d have the moonlight soon, which meant a cool night with him all to yourself. By the time he walks around to your side of the car, he blocks the sun from your view. Your eyes trail up from the tip of that ugly fucking beard he’s got growing to his chin, to his lips. To the grin he sports, saves only for you.

“Do you think they’ve noticed were gone?”

“Why? Worried Keechie’s missing you?” you snort.

“Keechie? God, no. Although, if I were you I’d be worried Madelaine was getting lonely by now”

Right; you were hiding from two members of the group in particular. Your first mistake was attempting to have sex in a five mile radius of the group. You didn’t think they’d barge into your tent and invite themselves to join. But, ever the adventurous and slightly stupid, you let them. Now two of the four that had been in your tent  were trying to recreate that moment again.

“Not my fault I rocked her world. You jealous, Prophet?”

“At first I was impressed because I didn’t think you swung that way, but yes. Yes, terribly.”

That probably isn’t much of a joke. Sobriety put a bit of a possessive streak in Klaus, and as much free love is flowing, it’s nice to feel like you belong to someone. And you do belong to Klaus, in every way that counts for your group. But you’d struck a chord with Madelaine and now shes creeping in on Klaus’ territory.  

He pulls you from the car, literally pulls you. His hands come up under your armpits and lift you from the car window until you can step out of the window and he can lower you down onto the sand. He’s thankful you’ve learned your lesson, as the last time he did this you weren’t wearing sandals and burned your feet on the sand. He bends to let you pluck the wide brimmed hat from his head and you place it on your own as you walk to the trunk to fetch a blanket. Dancing, not walking, he thinks. The way you walk is more like dancing. You grab a blanket from the trunk and sit with him until it’s night. You sit with him close enough to reach out and touch, but not quite. It’s in these moments you can close your eyes and perfectly imagine you’re back in your studio apartment with him, listening to the record player and sharing a bottle of wine, thinking about the narrowly avoided apocalypse and job hunting for him. You can close your eyes and imagine inviting his siblings over to crowd your apartment for a loud night of laughing and take out. You can hold his hand and think of how very little space the two of you took up in the world and how comforting it felt. 

When you open your eyes again it’s dark. Perfect. Night falls quickly in the desert. You look over to see Klaus equally as relaxed, an easy smile painted across his entire face, worry lines smoothed away.  He hums a song you recognize.

“Sweet Jane? Don’t you think that’s a little too ‘Mickey and Mallory’ for us?”

He hums a little more of the song before he answers.

“I was just thinking if we mixed blood in a wedding ceremony our paramours would leave us alone,” there’s a hint of something dark in his eyes, “Now get on the hood.”

It’s the way that he says it, low and commanding, that has you jumping up onto the hood of the car and eagerly arranging yourself in a provocative pose, legs splayed and leaning on your arms to arch you back a little, just to entice him even more. That’s all part of the dance, and here more often than not he leads. He commands and positions you the way he likes it and rewards you in kind. He actually looks a bit like a god figure or a superhero the way he saunters over to you in the dark and crawls above you onto the hood, sandal clad feet standing on the grill so he has more leverage for what he has in mind. 

“Now, are you ready for Daddy?

You have to snort at that.

“Daddy? If anyone is daddy here, it’s me babe.”

He grips your bare thigh, just above the knee, then gives it a little warning slap. Not hard, just a little more than nothing.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to call yourself anything besides what I feel like calling you, doctor.”

Any retort to that comment, which honestly stung a little, died on your tongue when a low growl rumbles from his throat and his mouth connects with your stomach, biting at the cloth of your tank top and the skin underneath. You sink back down and stare at the stars, whimpering as you count them and let Klaus tease you as he undresses you. 

“If you were the prophet I’d be entirely devoted to you,” He says as he pulls your shorts down your legs, “I’d follow you everywhere on Earth, I’d do anything you asked of me.”

“Don’t you already?” you laugh.

“I do,” He confirms, “I do, I do, I do” and punctuates each confirmation with a little nip at the inside of your thigh, the same one he had just slapped. The beard he’s been growing out tickles as you squirm beneath him, hands roaming wherever they wish but solidly keeping you in place for him. You think back on your first time with him, how eager he’d been to please, how you wanted to be the one he was pleasing, and how far you’ve come together. His fingers wind up your legs like ivy on an old statue and pause at your underwear, teasing for a moment, before pulling them aside and plunging two fingers into you without warning. He pushes them in deep, scissoring them back and forth a few times, before pulling them back out, and sucking on them. If youre moaning or swearing, you can't hear yourself. An appetizer for a meal, or something equivalent of that. The delighted moan that echoes from his throat as he sucks you from his fingers sends shivers up your spine, just knowing you're in for it tonight. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you dare to meet his eyes, dark and stormy and hungry for you. He has the audacity to give you his sweetest smile before roughly pulling your underwear away from your body and heavily dropping his knee onto the car hood between your own. Klaus himself is intoxicating, you didn't need drugs or alcohol. It was so easy for him to consume your senses, and you readily let him. And when he finally kisses you, you feel yourself drowning. Really truly drowning. The way his tongue dances with your own has you gripping his shoulders like hes the last rock before a riptide pulling you under. It takes him no time at all to have his pants undone and to be grinding himself against you. This is a glimpse of the Klaus of 2019, humping against you and gently whimpering into your mouth. But quickly he pushes that away, lining himself up with you and pulling back enough from you to make eye contact as he pushes himself in. No matter how domineering he could be in the 60s with you, he makes sure to look at you, to ask those silent questions, to be granted that permission to absolutely take over you.With each thrust, long and deep, punctuated with a needy moan, he takes a little more of you. And you willingly let him, and give him everything you can. 

You probably look like one of those renaissance paintings beneath him, as he thrusts hard deep fast, your breasts exposed like all of the biblical women, your body contorted on the hood of the car, like one of those angels in anguish. There was no where for your hands to find purchase that wasn't Klaus, so your hands are far up behind you, palms planted on the windshield to give yourself a better angle, a better arch of your back for Klaus to wrap his arms firmly around you, so he could kiss your chest and the long expanse of your neck and shoulders while he kept his pace. He held you as lose as possible, and for a moment you imagine its just him. You as nothing but an extension of himself, your pleasure mixing and becoming his pleasure. When he got like this, its easy to imagine he didn't have many lovers before you that cared that much about his pleasure. Sure they probably thought he was a fun time, as that was a given, but it was probably rare someone actually cared about what he was feeling. You like that he trusts you with this bare part of himself. No, you love it. You love-

A deep moan from his mouth vibrates against your breast, you feel it even more than you hear it, and it brings you back to where you are now, looking down at his lust filled, indulgent expression. 

“Keep looking at me,” he commands, thrusting harder, making you almost squeak at the angel he's hitting, “It's just me, and you, and the coyotes out here.”

Your hands scramble to grab the sides of his face as you start to move your hips to fuck back against his thrusts, eager to come for him while hes watching you. Any attempt to praise him comes out as stuttered moans and fragments of words, but there's a devilish smile on his face that tells you he knows what you're saying. 

He pulls one arm from under you, slams it on the car below right next to your head, and goes in for the kill. He’s merciless in his thrusts as he kisses and nips at your fingers that he can reach. He doesnt guide you but throws you off of the cliff into bliss, a scream parting from your lips as he refuses to slow his pace. This more dominant and possessive Klaus is wild, selfish in a beautiful way. In his face you see indulgence personified, a modern Dionysus filling each urge that swept over you. He doesn't let you calm down, doesn't let you catch your breath, overstimulating you as he reaches his own release. He comes equally as loudly, with a shout of your name and “oh, lover” tumbling from his lips before he stills, and captures your lips on his own. 

He kisses you slowly, like he's drinking in the taste of you, holding you still, feeling your skin melt with his. It's hard to tell where he ends and you begin, but you prefer it this way. It's just the two of you in the desert. Just the two of you in the world. There's plenty of water in the canteen, and after a drink to refresh you, you'll be tearing at each other again, just far enough off the road no one will see you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, like it hurts him not to be inside of you, and you find yourself involuntarily whining at the loss as well. He grabs the canteen and returns to put it to your lips, then his own, then you sit and talk of nothing and everything sweet, needlessly flirting and preening each others egos with loving words until you're both ready to go again. It continues like this until one of you falls asleep on the other. This is the desert routine. 

When you wake around sunrise, covered in bruises and hickies, hair tangled to hell, you're wrapped in the blanket from the trunk, Klaus’ shirt used as your pillow. He’s just outside, naked as you are, greeting the dawn. Something about his posture beckons you to join him, and on shaking legs you pull yourself from the car, unsteadily stepping until you can wrap your arms around his torso, his hand reaching to grab for you and sliding over your shoulders. He repositions you so you stand together, not with you behind him. The way its supposed to be. And then the moment the sun is fully in the sky, he greets it by crowing like a rooster. Loudly, freely. You join in.

[stevesharrlngtons]

“I was hoping for a little sympathy, maybe.” with Roman please :)

sorry for the delay )): and sorry if this kinda sucks!!

You knew his moping was justified. That his pain was warranted and expected. Having your DNA picked apart and ripped from your body was no doubt excruciating and exhausting. You just wished there was something you or anyone could do to alleviate some of the agony he was in. You were doing your best, but you still felt like you were lacking at this problem that was far out of your element.

Roman was never one to keep his grievances to himself, or to let anyone live in peace while he was uncomfortable. But ever since Pryce’s procedures began to rid him of his upirism, Roman had been a nightmare. He was angry and whining and tired and brittle and sad and needy. He wanted you attached to his side until his skin felt like it was rippling around on his bones, in which case he wouldn’t let you in the same room as him, as to not feel more claustrophobic than he already felt. 

On the days that Roman would go under Pryce’s needles for another treatments, you would spend the entire morning ordering Anna and Conway around to make sure there wasn’t anything that could possibly make Roman uncomfortable or irate. You were a dictator, barking orders and anxiously pacing while you waited for a call from The Tower informing you it was time to retrieve Roman. 

After his first treatment, Roman had driven himself home and almost wrapped his Jaguar around a tree. He had left the keys in the ignition and the door wide open before he mindlessly walked to the house in a daze. You had thrown enough of a fit when he was finally home safe that Roman agreed to let you drive him after he had finished with a new treatment. 

After you had him safely packaged in your car, Roman would usually sleep the entire way home, his cheek pressed against the cool window as you darted your eyes between him and the road. Terrified that if you didn’t look over to him every few moments, his breath would stop fogging the glass or his thin pale skin would split and crumble from the abuse it had taken. 

Two days ago you had finished your new macabre routine of readying the house for Roman’s return and driving him home in a worried stupor. You had put him to bed under satin sheets and mink blankets and a large glass of water and saltines on the nightstand. You had monitored him and stroked his sweat matted hair as he trembled and cried. You had snuggled close to him and kissed his frail skin and spoon fed him soup until his body collapsed from trauma and exhaustion. 

Now, 48 hours later, Roman was almost back to his old self. He still complained and griped and swore and was mostly unpleasant to everyone except you, but that was on par for normal Roman behavior. What wasn’t normal Roman behavior was to be out of bed on a Saturday before eleven A.M., which was why you felt a pang of worry when you rolled over and were greeted by a flurry of cold covers instead of the warm weight of your boyfriend. 

You sprang up from the pillows and searched for your phone to check the time, and sure enough, it was just after nine. Anxiety filled your gut as you pushed away your blankets in search for Roman. Sure, he had seemed to have recovered from the latest treatment as he usually did, but your mind couldn’t stop spinning with what if’s.

What if he had been hiding symptoms from you? What if he woke up this morning, and felt fatally wrong? What if he was slowly taking his dying breaths somewhere in the house while you slept soundly? What if? What if? What if?

You called his name, went from room to room in search of him, when you suddenly heard his voice coming from downstairs. 

You gripped the handrail tightly as you went down the staircase in search of him. You found him sitting in an armchair in the living room, a cloth pressed to one ear and his cell pressed to the other. His back is to you and you can see how rigid his shoulders are through the thin cotton of his shirt. 

“Roman,” You say, trying to gain his attention. 

He turns to you for a moment and unwraps one finger from his hold on his phone to wave at you, telling you to wait. 

“What happened? Who are you talking to?” You continue, blatantly ignoring his previous gesture. 

You walk closer to him as Roman once again holds up his finger for you. 

“Put me on fucking hold one more time Pyrce and I swear to God, you’ll regret it!” He barks.

You round the chair to stand in front of him. You can now see the prominent dark circles that haloed his eyes and his colorless lips and cheeks. He was alive, but clearly not well. 

Your heart broke as a small tut came from your lips. You sink to the floor in front of the arm chair and take to giving his calves and thighs a lazy massage. 

“No, you fucking listen to me -- no, I shouldn’t have to! You’re the doctor here. Fucking fix me!” Roman shouts into the receiver and you press a chaste kiss to his pajama covered knee. 

From your position on the floor, you watch as Roman listens to something Pryce says and scoffs loudly, “Green oozing goo is normal? Because it sure as shit doesn’t feel normal! -- I don’t care if this has never been done before, find a way to stop the weird puss and bile that is coming out of me.” 

And he hangs up. Roman gives a heady sigh as he tosses his phone onto the couch and collapses deeper into the chair. You glance up at the cloth that is still pressed against Roman’s ear and cringe as you see it is tinged with light green wetness. 

You continue your massage up his thighs until you settle your hands on either side of his hips and rest your chin on his lap, “What’s going on, baby?” 

“Just in fucking pain while gross green liquid comes out of me. Nothin’ new, apparently.” He says, sarcastic and dejected. 

“And there’s nothing Pryce can do?” You ask, but you are pretty sure you already know the answer. 

“Nope. The bastard keeps telling me it’s normal and there is nothing he can do...fucker.” 

You hold back a chuckle and kiss his belly instead, “At least it seems like it’s working, right? That’s a positive?”

“I guess, just, fuck! I hate this, I hate the treatments and Pryce. I don’t know why I called him in the first place,” Roman replies, moving his free hand to fiddle with the ends of your hair. 

“It’s good you called, I’m glad you did. I want you to call your doctor when you think something is wrong.” 

Roman’s face screws up in disgust, “Don’t call him my doctor, it makes our relationship sound far more amicable and intimate than it is.” 

“Fine. Your mad scientist? The Dr. Frankenstein to your monster?” You joke and Roman glares down at you. 

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.” Roman tugs a little at a strand of your hair he was busying himself playing with. 

“What are you in the mood for, then?” 

“I don’t know, I was hoping for a little sympathy, maybe. If not from Pyrce, then from you.” He grumbles petulantly. 

“Hey, I am an outpouring sympathy machine for you, baby. I know this process is weird and tough and painful, all I want to do is help. So, tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” You thumbs sneak beneath his sleep shirt to find his hip bones to gently stroke. 

“I don’t know what I want,” Roman pouts, his voice a borderline whine. 

“Want some options?” You ask, perking up slightly from his lap.

He just nods. The treatments were incredibly draining for Roman, both physically and emotionally. While his body physically recovered within a few days, the emotional wounds would linger and refuse to blister for upwards of a week. So, during the period following his procedure, he needed all the emotional support he could garner from you. That included letting him scream and vent to you, or sob and shake in your embrace, or just have you decide exactly what he wanted because his brain just couldn’t surmise what he truly wanted. 

“A: We go back to bed and just watch TV for a while. B: We stay down here and order some breakfast from that diner on 3rd. C: I call Troy and see if he has an Vicodin to help with your pain.” 

Roman mulls over your list of multiple choice before he speaks, “Can I choose that we go back upstairs, order breakfast from the diner on 3rd and I call Troy about Vicodin and pot for us?” 

You grin up at him, “Ah, yes. Secret option D, that sounds good.” 

Roman gives you a soft smile before you push up from the ground.

“Let’s get back to bed, handsome.” You wiggle your outstretched fingers for him to take, which he does easily. 

You pull him up from the chair and Roman moves to wrap his arm around your shoulders, your fingers still clasped together. He presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, one that takes several moments to complete, one where he inhales your scent and relishes in your feeling, one where he whispers I love you. 

With his lips against your hair, you felt a rush of contentment knowing that even your small gestures could work to make this strange time for Roman a little better. That’s all you really wanted, even if you knew you couldn’t find the magic saulve to fix everything. Maybe you would one day, but for now, snuggles, pancakes and painkillers would have to do.

“I love you, too.” You reply as you help your ailing love up the stairs to start your relaxed day. 

does this even make sense??? i don’t know!! i just wanted to write and post this request bc i felt bad that i had let it sit so long lol sorry if it seems scattered or weird??????? but idk, if you did like it, i’d love to hear from you <3 (:

[gamerwoo]

Wonwoo: Focus

Anonymous asked: hi can i ask for a gamer wonwoo smut please? i know you wrote one in the series but could you write one besides that? maybe like the reader want attention but he’s playing games and it leads to smut or they bet over a game and it’s related to smut? i hope it helps! also please don’t feel pressured to post this if you don’t want to xx i love your writing! thank you 💓

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/warnings: gamer/streamer au, smut (kinda exhibitionism, oral, cockwarming), kinda fluffy at the end

Word count: 2,338

Summary: Having a popular Twitch streamer for a boyfriend, his attention is usually on his computer, his games, and his audience rather than you. So you figure if he won’t give you attention, you’ll make it harder for him to keep his attention off of you.

a/n: I didn’t know what to use for twitch usernames so uh I used names of my mutuals dskfhjksdhf shoutout to y’all (especially @sadienita who helped me w the direction it should go toward the end bc i didn’t know if i wanted to keep up w cocky asshat wonwoo or whiny baby wonwoo)

“Sadienita, thank you for the five months; heartskun, thank you for the $5 -- I appreciate it.”

Wonwoo’s eyes drifted over from the game to his chat, thanking the people he didn’t get to while he was playing. He had a break of a few seconds between respawning so he usually used it to look at chat. There were always plenty of questions and comments flooding in, so he’d thank the subs and donors while answering any questions or replying to any comments that stuck out to him.

You were currently kind of pissed off at him because he decided to stream instead of spend time with you. You had a particularly bad day at work today, so you were feeling extra needy because of it. But Wonwoo kept telling you he had a schedule to stick to, so he went straight to the office to stream, ignoring all of your advances.

But was that stopping you? Absolutely not.

You’d snuck into his office while he was distracted with the game. Since he wasn’t using facecam today, you stood behind him and wrapped your hands around him, your palms rubbing up and down his chest as your lips went right to his neck.

“_____-ah, I’m busy,” he whined, silencing his mic so he could scold you.

You let out a huff, moving away from him and sitting on the floor beside him instead. You were still feeling clingy, though, so you wrapped your arms around his leg and leaned your head against his knee, hoping maybe he’d give you some form of attention -- a head pat at the very least. But no, he carried on with his game, shot calling to his team.

Your hands started traveling further up Wonwoo’s leg until your fingers were dancing across his thighs over his shorts. You tilted your head back to glance up at his face only to see that he didn’t seem to care at all. His expression was still neutral as he played the game, the clicks of his keyboard still making the same patterns.

Feeling a little ballsy, you decided to test your luck. You crawled under his desk and knelt between his legs, your hand moving up to palm him through his shorts. He bit his lip but wasn’t fazed other than that. But still, he wasn’t telling you to stop and he wasn’t pulling away...

“My shots are steady, shut up chat,” Wonwoo pouted.

You smirked to yourself. Clearly you did have some kind of affect on your boyfriend if his chat was telling him his aiming was shaky, and that was only made clearer when a tent quickly formed in his shorts. But his face still showed zero emotion.

Your hands ventured higher, hooking your fingers through the waistband of his shorts and underwear, tugging both down just enough for his erection to spring free. You bit your lower lip as you gripped the base and leaned in, licking up the underside of his cock.

Wonwoo cleared his throat. You looked up to see him pushing his glasses up his nose but that was it. So you wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue as you slowly took more and more of him into your mouth. Still, his eyes never left the screen, but you didn’t see the way his hand clenched around the mouse momentarily before he stretched out his fingers and went back to holding it as he usually did.

You couldn’t tell if it was hotter to have Wonwoo be so passive about you sucking him off or if you’d rather he acknowledge your existence. Did you like how he removed his headphones and ran a hand through his hair before putting them back on, acting as if everything was normal? Or did you prefer he looked down at you and bit his lip to hold back moans, barely able to concentrate on his game?

You got your answer when you lowered your head all the way down, staying there for a moment as you deepthroated your boyfriend. You tried to stay as long as possible, but ultimately ended up gagging after a few seconds and coming back up. You felt fingers grip your hair, making you look up from under the desk to see Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours through his glasses as he put a finger to his lips, an eyebrow raised.

Arousal burned in your lower abdomen, seeing the amused look Wonwoo gave you. You simply nodded and went back to sucking him off, using your hand to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit.

“What was what noise?” Wonwoo asked with a chuckle, apparently reading a comment in chat as he put his hand back on his keyboard. “There was a gagging noise? Ah, it’s probably Neko.”

You tried not to giggle. Of course Wonwoo would blame your cat.

You started moving your head faster, and you could feel Wonwoo’s thigh flexing beneath your hand. Clearly, it was starting to get harder for him to stay quiet, making you smirk around his length.

“There’s somebody on the--" you heard Wonwoo cut off and suddenly suck in sharply as you hollowed your cheeks. He tried to steady his breathing before he continued. “There’s... There’s somebody on the left.”

You slid your free hand down into your panties, teasing your entrance with your index finger before pushing in. You ground down against your palm to get some friction against your clit as you continued to bob your head on Wonwoo’s length. You hummed around his length, sending vibrations through it that had him biting down on his lower lip, keeping his eyes on his screen.  

Wonwoo was back to hardly paying any attention to you. He blew off his strange behavior as him stubbing his toe on his desk before he was back to shot calling and speaking to chat as normal. But it wasn’t long until you were quietly whining and whimpering as you added another finger into your heat, moving them in and out as you rubbed your clit with your thumb. Even with his headphones on, Wonwoo knew you were making little noises from the way his cock vibrated because of your lips around him.

Once he’d died again, he glanced down at you. You had saliva at the corners of your mouth and you had one hand down your panties, and the sight was enough to have Wonwoo smirking. He was more than amused at how desperate you were, and he wanted to use that to his advantage.

He reached down with one hand, stroking your hair back to get your attention. Then he was beckoning for you with two fingers, rolling his chair back. You crawled out from under the desk and stood up, feeling relief in your knees. Wonwoo hooked his fingers into your underwear and dragged them down before he grabbed your hips and pulled your forward, silently telling you that he wanted you to ride him.

“Stream?” you mouthed to him as you put one leg on either side of him on his chair.

“Be quiet,” he mouthed back with a smirk.

Despite the fact you didn’t think you’d be that quiet, you lined yourself up before sinking down on his cock, biting your lip to muffle the whimpers. The way he stretched and filled you would always be way better than anything your fingers could do. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, nipping at his skin to try to hide the moans that wanted to make their way from your throat.

Wonwoo merely sighed as you slowly bounced your hips. He seemed almost content at the way you rode him and nuzzled into him, continuing to pay attention to the game rather than to you. He let you do all the work as he focused on his game that he was determined to complete before he gave in to you.

Or so he thought.

The way you clenched around him and the way your warm breath hit his skin was slowly breaking his resolve. The quiet mewls that were muffled into his shoulder paired with how your hips sped up as you rode him was enough to have him coughing to hide his moans. It was becoming too hard to hide, and he soon found himself having the urge to leave his game early.

“Chat, I’ll be right back,” he suddenly said, making you pause your movements. “I gotta go check on _____ real quick.”

You sat up straight and looked over your shoulder to see his screen. He muted his mic and then went to leave his game but you quickly reached over and grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“_____--”

“Keep going,” you told him.

“What?”

“You thought you could ignore me, so do it. Keep playing like nothing’s happening.”

“I can’t,” he whined, slumping back into the chair. “It’s too much, you feel too good.”

“If you don’t, I’ll stop,” you threatened with a smirk.

Wonwoo groaned, “_____, if anybody finds you, I’ll get banned.”

“Then don’t let anybody find out,” you giggled before you unmuted his mic.

“I’m--” Wonwoo stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as you continued your movements, trying to keep the noise to a minimum while still making sure there was enough friction to push both of you to your releases. “I-I’m back, guys.”

Wonwoo scanned the screen as he chewed on his lip to keep any noises of pleasure back, but he did let out an awkward cough that almost made you laugh.

“Why’d I have to check on _____?” he read off one of the questions. “Sh-she’s uh...not feeling good. She’s s-sick.”

You were pretty impressed Wonwoo was even able to form a sentence considering how hard he was biting his lip. He bucked his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and slap a hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate on keeping quiet. You knew Wonwoo was doing this on purpose to embarrass you instead of him, but you weren’t going to let him win that game.

His mind started to get hazy the longer it went on. He could barely pay attention to the game, his tracking only getting worse and worse as he got closer to his orgasm. He could feel it quickly building, something about the thrill of doing this on stream arousing him more than he’d want to admit. But you felt the same, and you were having a hard time hiding the sound of skin hitting skin with how quickly you moved on his length. Your hand had already snaked down between your bodies to rub your clit, hoping to chase your high that was coming closer and closer.

At this point, Wonwoo wasn’t even speaking to his chat or reading comments anymore. His jaw was clenched as he focused on keeping his noises in, only clearing his throat and letting out coughs to hide the groans of pleasure.

For somebody who thought he could play this game, he lost. As his orgasm hit, he let go of his mouse and keyboard, opting to hold you as close as he could as he thrust up into you to ride out his orgasm how he wanted to. His head was thrown back against his chair as he pressed his lips into a thin line, only puffing air out through his nose as he worked through his orgasm. He didn’t even care that his character in-game was dead now. The game was completely forgotten in favor of you.

Feeling Wonwoo’s warm release and seeing the way his jaw clenched over and over was enough to send you over the edge soon after him, letting out a soft, high-pitched whine as you bit down onto his shoulder to stay silent. Your body shuddered as you came, grinding down onto him as he rubbed your back and let you relax before he went back to what he was doing before.

When your muscles had finally relaxed and you melted into the warmth of his body, his eyes flickered over to his chat that was being spammed with comments of him throwing his game and also questioning what that odd squeak was that they heard. He chuckled, keeping one arm around you while the other went back to his mouse.

“Sorry, _____ needed me,” he replied, the sudden sound of his voice making you jump. “That noise was her -- she came into the room because her stomach hurts.”

Despite the fact you were now sexually satisfied, you didn’t want to leave Wonwoo just yet. You were still needy for his touch, and you knew he still wouldn’t be done streaming for a while. That meant you’d have to go lay in bed alone, and that wasn’t something you were excited to do. But you knew you had to.

You went to get up, but Wonwoo tightened his hold on you, keeping you on his softening member as he moved his hand up your back to lay your head back down on his shoulder. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you went along with it.

“She’s going to sit with me until I’m done,” he told his stream before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll probably play one or two more games before I take her to bed.”

Something about your current position was actually really comforting, and you found your eyes closing as Wonwoo let go of you and went back to his game. You could hear soft hums of concentration every now and then, along with the tapping of his keys. His shot calling was softer now, careful not to disturb you, but you liked hearing his voice anyway.

Before you completely fell asleep, you heard him laughing quietly at a comment from chat.

“‘What if those noises were Wonwoo and his girlfriend doing it?’. Chat, we’d never do that. Get your minds out of the gutter.”

[hrina]

CAN WE PLEASE PLEASE TALK ABOUT HATEFUCKING HARRY!??? Like you maybe working in his team or whatever and you dont get along that very well but find eachother pleasant in other ways... and him murmuring under his breath whilst going down on you or pushing you up against the wall how much you annoy him at times but at the same time how good your cunt is and how well you two fit causeEEE HELP ME

YEET I LOVE THIS CONCEPT!!!!!!!! also im gonna just dedicate this to @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy real quick bc that bitch is the QUEEN of dirty talk and i hope i did her justice w this piece x [part two here]

“Fuckin’ insufferable, yeh know tha’?” Harry’s hot breath is ghosting along the shell of your ear, biting down on the skin harshly when you tip your head back. His fingers are wedged beneath the elastic of your panties, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, frantic circles. A low moan slips from your lips, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

“Not my fault that y-you get so whiny for no reason,” you eke out. You gasp and your eyes snap open, hand flying down to clamp around his wrist when he slides one finger into you. He’s merciless, hooking the digit right away and immediately petting against that rough spot that has you seeing stars.

“Oh fuck,” you say, turning your head to the side.

“Fuckin’ look at me,” Harry says, his voice low yet fierce. You shake your head, wanting to see how far you can push him.

Not very far, apparently, because he growls deep in his throat before his hand is fitting against the curve of your neck, thumb pushing against your jawline and forcing you to face him. Your lips part in surprise, and a squeak escapes your lips as you become accustomed to the sudden restriction of your breathing. Harry doesn’t hesitate, his thumb slipping into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commands, and you do just that. Your cheeks hollow around the digit, tongue swirling along his skin and eyes rolling back into your head at the thought of him dominating you like this. You can’t stand him, truly, but there’s something about him that makes your cunt weep with desire. You don’t know what it is, but you’re perfectly content carrying on like this until you’re motivated enough to try and find out. 

“Bloody gagging for it, aren’t yeh?” Harry chuckles, his lips curving up into an infuriating smirk. It makes rage boil low in your stomach, mixing with the jolts of pleasure that have your knees buckling against the wall of his dressing room. You shoot him a glare, but Harry’s smirk only widens–he knows that you won’t retaliate, at least not now, when he has complete control over your orgasm.

“‘S the only way t’get yeh to shut up, innit?” Harry asks coyly, his hand tightening a bit around your throat, “Never fuckin’ stop talking–maybe I should just keep my thumb in your mouth all the time.”

You moan at the thought.

“Y’like that? Fuckin’ love m’fingers, don’t yeh?”

“Please,” you mumble around his thumb, your words weak and muffled. Your hands are gripping at his back, trying to find purchase in the material of his suit, and your hips flex forward when his palm grinds harshly against your clit.

“What is it, hmm?” he inquires, and God, you want to slap the smile right from his face, “What d’yeh need, pet?”

“Fuck me,” you whine. He tuts, shaking his head and closing his eyes briefly in mock-disappointment.

“Know y’can do better than that. C’mon, just need a little more from yeh. Then I’ll spread that pretty cunt–,” he grins when you let out a loud whimper, “–and fuck into you so hard y’won’t be able to stand.” 

You’re seething. How dare he? He’s got you pinned against the wall, your knees quaking and your hips bucking towards him instinctively. You’re waiting for him to drop the act and just get in you, but he seems to enjoy the torment. Briefly, you wonder if this is payback for all the times you’d sucked him off and left him high and dry right before he had to go onstage. The fan-filmed videos you’d seen afterwards had made you chuckle into your palms. 

“I swear to God, Styles,” you growl, but you can’t sound as menacing as you’d like, given his thumb is still flicking your clit rapidly. Your voice shakes, and your nails dig into his biceps. You feel a pinch of satisfaction when he groans low in his throat at the pinprick of pain, and your head tilts back against the wall.

Until you feel his hand tighten around your throat, fingers printing purple bruises into the skin, and your eyes go wide. Your gaze locks with his, only to find stormy green eyes, flaring nostrils, and pink lips tucked into a tight scowl.

“‘M not takin’ any lip from yeh tonight, minx. Do as I say.” 

“Or what?” you simper, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist so that you can pull his finger from your mouth, “You gonna spank me?” 

His frown deepens. “Don’t tempt me.”

With that, he slides another digit into you, the action so abrupt that it causes you to yelp out. Harry hisses in panic and shoves two of his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. You moan softly when he begins to pump his arm.

“S’fuckin’ tight, yeah?” he asks, and you whimper in affirmation, “Always feel so bloody good around my cock, y’know that? S’like–,” he lets out a groan when you tug on his hair, “–we fit.”

Your body is heating up quickly, sweat beading at the back of your neck and toes curling in your shoes. No matter how unbearable you find him, you always end up right back here, with you shoved up against the wall of his dressing room and his fingers muffling your cries of ecstasy. It’s predictable at this point–a clockwork of sorts–yet he always manages to make it feel like the first time you fucked.

But that’s just what it is: a fuck. Nothing less, and nothing more. 

“Now,” Harry says slowly, giving you a stern look, “Y’gonna beg for it or not?”