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ladykailitha · 2 days ago

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Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 13

It's a race to the finish line as we are nearing the end. I am quite proud of this little story. I started posting the weekend the Olympics ended and continued until almost Thanksgiving!

The final two chapters will come out tomorrow and Friday.

In this we have Steve learning progress is not a straight line, Dr. Hughes is brilliant, and Eddie's dreams come true.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

The year just flew by, with Steve and Eddie working in the off season. Andy and Haley called them crazy.

“You’ll only burn him out,” Haley said, “then he won’t make it to the trials, let alone the Olympics, Steve.”

“I know you think this gung ho approach is going to do the job,” Andy agreed, “but it’s just not sustainable. You’ll wear him out before it’s competition time again.”

Steve looked back and forth between them in open mouthed shock. “You guys honestly think I would take advice from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Fuck off.”

They were flabbergasted that he would speak to them that way, as if they hadn’t spent the last year mocking both Eddie and Steve’s progress in the pool.

Steve just shook his head and walked away. He was doing much better now. He could get in the pool up to his waist and duck under the lane divisions, but he couldn’t put his head under the water. He had even tried kneeling into it, but he had jumped out of the water so fast, he left a huge wake behind him.

It took him two more weeks after that to even put his toe in the water again.

He had never been so disappointed in himself. Not for him. Oh no. But for the look of pity on Eddie’s face when he turned around after having booked it to the lifeguard tower.

Dr. Hughes had admonished Steve for feeling that way. “Your recovery is not predicated on how Eddie feels about it. And I highly doubt it was pity, Steve. You know Eddie better than that. He was concerned for you. As I’m sure Robin was too.”

Steve was forced to acknowledge that he just wanted Eddie to be proud of his progress.

“Steve,” Dr. Hughes said gently, “we’re all proud of your progress. You can go into the water all the way up to your chest. That is a long way from freaking out over putting your foot in the water.”

He took a deep breath and let the words of encouragement slide over him like waves in the ocean. Oh how he wished the pool was just the ocean. Dark, fathomless and deep. Unknowable and therefore conquerable.

He explained the feeling to Dr. Hughes.

“The ocean doesn’t bother you?” he asked tilting his head to the side.

Steve frowned for a moment and then shook his head. “It’s not clear like pool water. I can’t see the bottom and know how far it is for me to drown.”

“Oh.”

A smile spread over Dr. Hughes face. “I’ve got the best idea.”

“What are these?” Steve said pulling out the weird goggles.

“They’re for tanning booths,” Eddie explained with a grin. “They’re so you can’t see.”

Steve frowned at them for a moment. “What am I not supposed to see?”

Eddie just continued to grin without saying a word. He put them over Steve’s eyes and led him through the halls. As they did, Steve started to hear waves crashing and the sound of gentle breeze.

“What the hell?” he asked, but Eddie continued to lead him on without a word.

He led Steve to the edge of something and that’s when he spoke.

“Just dive in,” he murmured. “It’s okay, we’re here for you.”

Steve was about to ask who else was there, but it didn’t matter. He trusted Eddie not have anyone there that would make fun of him. So he dived into the water and just swam. It felt so good to just let himself go. To just swim properly for the first time since the accident.

Then he touched a wall. He let his body sink and hit solid floor. The water only came up to his chest. But there was no way they would have let him dive in the endless pool or the kiddie pool.

He tore off the goggles and looked around. He was on the other side of the pool from the door.

“What the–”

On the side of the pool were Robin, Eddie, and surprisingly Dr. Hughes. Dr. Hughes was sitting in one of the folding chairs Steve often sat in during staff swims, Robin was standing next to him with her phone held out, and Eddie was crouched by the edge in case Steve panicked and needed to pulled out of the pool quickly.

He let out a startled laugh, pushing his hair out of his face. “That was amazing!”

“You did it, pretty boy!” Eddie shouted. “You swam in the big pool.”

The sound of the waves and wind cut out and Robin put away her phone with a grin.

He waded over to the edge of the pool to where Eddie was crouched. “So I did. Was this your idea, Dr. Hughes?” he asked, looking around Eddie to the seated man.

He smiled fondly. “It was. We’ll slowly build you up to not needing the sound, then not needing the goggles. The brain for all its complexities can be easily tricked.”

Steve laughed out right. “That’s brilliant!” His smile turned into a grin as he looked up at Eddie.

“Uh oh...”

But before he could get out of arms reach, Steve grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the water. Laughing and splashing around.

Robin turned to Dr. Hughes and murmured, “Thank you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Hughes said. “He really wants to get better. To overcome his fears and that makes him...hmm...I’m not sure easier would be the right word. More teachable, perhaps.”

“Despite all his dad’s faults and trust me he had many,” Robin said solemnly watching her best friend, “Clint could tell Steve loved the water. Like really loved the water and he did everything he could to make that happen for Steve. It’s just too bad the bastard got so wrapped up in winning he forgot that.”

Dr. Hughes nodded. Steve was happiest in the water and if he could help him get that back even just a little, then Dr. Hughes considered it a success.

The Olympic trials had finally arrived and Steve was nervous as hell. Not only because Eddie was going against Jason Carver to be on the team and Billy being there, but because Bob Newby. He was one of the best and he was worried Eddie wouldn’t live up to his exacting standards.

Thankfully Bob came over right before the meet started to chat.

“I’ve been hearing some really good things about your boy, Eddie,” Bob said after they exchanged pleasantries.

Steve grinned. “He’s good, Bob. Like proper talented, good.”

“I can’t wait to see him,” he replied with a nod. “I was hoping to see another name on this roster, was a little sad you weren’t on it.”

Steve blushed. “If I felt better about that damn pool behind you, I probably would have. But I just can’t. Not right now.”

Bob gave his elbow a squeeze. “I feel that. I’m just glad that they offered the coach position to me first. Their second choice was Billy fucking Hargrove.”

Steve leaned his head forward in surprise and disgust. “Are you kidding me? He barely medalled, why would they want him?”

“I don’t know,” Bob said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Bribery. That would be the only reason for it. Straight up Olympic bribery, like fucking Salt Lake City didn’t blow the cover on that particular can of worms.

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said. “I’ve got go get my boy ready.”

“We’ll talk more after the meet,” Bob said.

Robin walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Eddie is going to do just fine.”

Jason, who had been walking by, scoffed. “Your boy is throwing up chunks in the locker rooms.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Like your beloved coach wasn’t doing the same thing at the last Olympic trials and he still made it. So fuck off.” He waved his hands at Jason, who stomped off with a scowl.

Robin smirked. “He was throwing up because someone told him one of the other athletes was gay.”

Steve smirked back. “I’ll just go check in on Eddie. I’ll be right back.”

He walked into the looker room and everyone started pointing out the direction of the hurling. They knew who Steve was and they sure as hell knew who he was coaching this year.

“Eds?” Steve murmured walking up to the stall.

“Fuck man,” Eddie murmured. “Me and my band play to actual fucking crowds and I’ve never been this nervous before.”

“That’s because you’ve never had the chance to be seen on the world stage before,” Steve said soothingly. “I think you’d be throwing up before a performance if you were told that there was a talent scout in the audience who if they liked your stuff would be giving you a contract.”

Eddie stopped to consider that. “Oh yeah. Okay. I see your point.” He stood up and opened the door to the stall. “You gotta level with me coach, am I good enough?”

Steve took his head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “You are. You are one of the best swimmers I’ve ever seen and you have got this in the bag.”

Eddie gripped Steve’s wrists and nodded. “I’ve got this.”

He opened his eyes and saw how close they were. It would take absolutely nothing to press their lips together. Just tilt his head up.

Then a locker door slammed Steve jumped back, dropping his hands from Eddie’s face. His own face was burning.

“Steve...” Eddie murmured, holding out his hand to him. “It’s okay.”

“I want to so bad,” Steve muttered back. “But I’m coach, I can’t.”

Eddie smiled. “If I make it to the Olympics, you won’t be. Bob will. So just think about that for a moment.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “You’re a menace, Eddie Munson.”

“You love it,” Eddie said, leaning into his space.

Steve playfully pushed him off. “Go blow away all the judges, rockstar.”

Eddie saluted and led the way out of the locker rooms, out to the pool, a fond Steve following behind.

The stands were stacked to the gills of all their friends and family. Max wasn’t trying out for the Olympics this year, opting to wait until she was older before she tried out. Steve and Susan were very proud of her making that decision for herself. She would be sixteen next time and they, and Robin thought it would the best for her.

It was going to be a crazy week. Having over a thousand athletes all vying for the same fifty spots. And a lot of those spots would be filled by the same people across the board.

Steve wasn’t sure what was worse: for first and watching everyone else beat your time or go last and be forced to watch all the amazing athletes go before you. Well Eddie was about to find out.

He was in the first heat on the first day for his first event and most of his heats were also on day one. Which thankfully, Jason was not. Jason was in the middle of the week and had been complaining about it to everyone who would listen longer than five minutes.

Chrissy Cunningham was at the end of the week. The first heat on the last day.

Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Show the country who’s the best, Eddie,” he murmured. His hand slid down Eddie’s arm and he gave his hand a squeeze too.

Eddie smiled brightly and then tucked his hair under his cap. He padded over to his podium and started warming up his limbs. The whistle blew and he pulled down his goggles and got up on the podium. He crouched on it backward, still as can be, waiting for that shot.

BANG!

And Eddie arced into the pool backward, the strong lines of his body sending butterflies to the base of his rib cage and his heart rate rabbited.

Eddie was beautiful. There was no denying that. The last two years had taken him from a scrawny teen to a whipcord strength. His tattoos were beautifully on display and Steve let out a shuddering breath.

Robin took his hand and they watched as Eddie cut threw the water like a hot knife through butter. He was exquisite.

It was nerve-wracking every time he went into the water, but every time Eddie emerged from the water in the top three if not the top spot.

They watched and waited the whole week as others did the same.

When the results were tallied up at the end of the week, Eddie, Jason, and Chrissy were all going to the Olympics in London.

Eddie came bounding up to Steve. “Better get packing for London, pretty boy. I’m going to the Olympics!”

Steve laughed as he spun them around. “All right, all right!” he cried, laughing. “I’ll come watch you compete!”

“Yay!”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t sure if he could handle going to the Olympics and watching other people live his dream. But he’d do it. He’d do it for Eddie.

He’d do anything for Eddie.

Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #olympic steddie #olympic swimmer au

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aek1ra · 24 hours ago

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Paris | Mark Lee

Pairing boyfriend!mark x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Mark, gets the offer of a lifetime but it means moving to Paris. Is this the start of a new future in a new city or where a great romance goes to die in the city of love.

Genre: angst, no warnings I think. Giselle and the rest of the æspa members play a small role.

Word count: 2,458

All stories are the property of © aek1ra, please do not copy, repost or translate without my permission. Thank you for your cooperation.

Friday

“I can’t stay here and be single for you, you’re my best friend why can’t you just be happy for me” you whisper shout at her in the middle of the crowded streets of Manhattan. “I am happy for you, I just don’t want you to regret this decision in the future-” she takes a deep breath and continues “look all I’m saying is that you’ve given up a lot for this relationship and this is one more thing he’s asking you to give up. Moving to Paris isn’t your dream y/n you’re chasing after him.”

You heard her loud and clear, in fact you knew exactly what she was talking about. As much as you hate to admit you had been thinking the same thing for weeks now but how could you let him go. He was the missing puzzle piece, no he was the image you’re left with after the puzzle is completed. You had everything a girl in her mid twenties could ask for, the apartment in your dream city, the expensive shoes, the dream job and the dream boy. or at least you thought. No, you did and besides you’re not giving up your dream you’re simply moving it across an ocean. Yes, they have nice apartments in Paris, expensive shoes and people read magazines everywhere. It would take some time to find a job and some friends but once you got settled things would be the same, right?

“I heard you, now let's drop this conversation I already quit my job and besides we leave tomorrow” you retort, taking a sip of your coffee hoping the warm beverage will help the lies come out smoother. She doesn’t say anything for a moment in fact you forget she’s even there. 1 beat 2 beats. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye to us? You can quit your job, throw away your shoes, hell even your hopes and dreams for some boy, but are we, am I that disposable to you.” pause “Actually you know what never mind, forget I said anything. Have a nice life y/n”

3 beats, 4 beats. And with that you were left in the silence again except this time she really was gone.

You walk into your shared apartment anxiously toying with your keys, the previous conversation replaying in your mind.

“Baby your home, can you help me with the-” he stops mid-sentence seeing the tears well up in your eyes.

“Hey what’s wrong? Things didn’t go well with Aeri, I take it?” you nod finally letting the tears you’d been holding all night cascade down your face. Mark is quick to pull into his chest, one arm around your waist pulling you in close, rubbing circles on your back. “She hates me. I don’t know why she can’t see things from my point of view. Everyone but her is happy for us, she’s my best friend and her opinion means the world to me. I mean she was my best friend.” you say in between sobs.

He continues to listen as you drone on about her not understanding your feelings under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights.

You were going to tell them, you did plan on saying goodbye but everything happened so fast. Mark had gotten offered the deal of a lifetime last week and asked you to move with him. Although it was sudden you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And with the long list of things you had to get done before the move like; putting the apartment up for sale, handing in your notice at work, packing, passports, visas, you simply forgot to deliver the good news to your family and friends.

When you called your parents this morning they expressed their excitement seeing you going on this adventure, truthfully they were just happy you’re happy, they know just how much you and Mark love each other. The other girls, Jimin, Minjeong and Yizhuo were all happy for you even if you knew deep down they had the same reservations as Aeri. She was the only person who didn’t seem to understand, or the only one not cowardly enough to say it out loud. She’ll come around eventually, right?

After 15 minutes of effectively soaking your boyfriend's t-shirt he breaks the silence “come on” he starts as he cups your face softly in his hands wiping the last of the tears away, “let's get you to bed, we still have a few things to do before our flight tomorrow”. And with that you let him lead you to the bedroom thoughts of your friendship pushed to the back of your mind as the excitement and slight anxiety takes over.

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Sunday morning, First day in Paris

Before you knew it you were in Paris, standing in the lobby of the infamous Ritz Carlton. The company had booked a 5 night stay for you both while the deal was being finalised. Mark went off to get your room key while you stood admiring the crystal chandelier hanging above you. It was mesmerising, dazzling, the main star, the sun, the other lights danced around. He was standing at the front desk a few steps away, the lights above him creating a spotlight on him. There he was, your crystal chandelier, your sun and you were his earth quietly, forever orbiting around him.

“Hey” his voice snaps you out of your haze, “let’s head up stairs yeah” he takes your hand in his, the sound of hurried footsteps and soft giggles are all that's left as you both disappear into the elevator.

Ding!

You come to a stop on the top floor, the Imperial suite. The view up here was stunning. Breathtaking. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, every morning you would be waking up to two of the most beautiful views, the Eiffel tower and your boyfriend.

Thump. There it was, that feeling again, you had been feeling this pang in your heart, a sort of longing like something was missing. If you were being honest you had been feeling this since your talk with Aeri yesterday, more specifically after she left standing alone outside your apartment.

The faint sound of a phone ringing pulls you out of your thoughts, you watch your boyfriend talk to someone on the phone, probably his manager.

“Right now?”

“No, that's fine I’ll be there. Can you give me 20 minutes? I'll shower and meet you at the studio.” he hangs up the phone making his way towards you. He stands in front of you staring in your eyes, “I’m so sorry I know we said we would spend the day together before I got too busy. But I promise you I’ll be back before 7, we’re still on for dinner right beautiful?”

Mhm. You hum in response planting a quick peck on his lips “don’t worry about me I’ll go shopping for our date tonight.”

To be quite honest you were upset it hadn’t even been 24 hours and he was already too busy for you. Who were you kidding, did you really think it would be different, Manhattan to Paris the only change was your address. Maybe he just had no more room in his life for you. No, it sounded urgent, probably something with the contract, a typo or something. You’re a big girl, you can spend the day alone in the hotel room, or better yet go out and buy yourself a new dress for dinner tonight.

“Besides I think I’ll go out and check out the stores around the area” he gives you one last squeeze before letting go and making his way into the shower.

Tshhh

The sound of the shower water interrupts the quiet of the room, wishing the water could just wash away all your worries.

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Saturday night

Standing in front of the mirror admiring yourself in the strapless Versace dress you purchased earlier on. The sneaking suspicion that Mark wasn’t going to make it home starts to creep up on you. He was always doing that, making plans with you and cancelling at the last minute, sometimes not even showing up and forgetting to call. You know how important his work is to him and how crazy his schedule can get sometimes. At the start of your relationship he made a point to always let you know if he was going to be late, sending flowers on the days he misses a date. But as time went on the flowers and calls started to slow down eventually coming to a stop. I mean you knew he didn’t mean to, you didn’t need gifts to know that he never meant to forget you, he never meant to keep you waiting.

The clock finally strikes seven and you’re sitting on the small couch at the end of the hallway, opposite the front door. Dazedly staring at the front door willing it to open, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. Seven o’clock becomes eight, eight becomes nine, eventually it's Ten and you tire of waiting around so you decide to head to bed.

It’s a quarter to Midnight when Mark returns, you spent the past thirty minutes tossing and turning, head full of questions, where could he be, was he alone, was he even thinking about you. He walks into the room, no he stumbles in knocking over a few perfume bottles that were on the dresser. You feign sleep, you're suddenly hit with the smell of alcohol. The bed dips next to you and soon enough you feel this lips on your cheeks, a quick bittersweet lingering kiss. The smell of alcohol is so overpowering you start to get dizzy. You feel a new emotion, not hurt, not disappointment, not hurt, but for the first time ever you were angry at him. While you were worried sick that he could’ve been somewhere out there lost in this foreign country where neither of you speak the language, or worse out dead in a ditch somewhere he was out drinking. Mark could be careless, inattentive, forgetful whatever you want to call it but never was he stupid.

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Monday morning

The sun rose at 7 this morning, you hadn’t slept at all last night, thoughts of what your future would look like if you decided to live here with him. Mark starts to stir in his sleep, finally waking up. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his chest murmuring a quick “good morning beautiful”. When you don’t respond he shifts slightly, lifting his head off the bed to get a good look at your face.

“Baby, hey I’m sorry time just got away from me-” he starts, but you think it's pointless listening to the same speech you’ve heard all these nights before. Mark was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, that is when he’s not too consumed by his work. You see for him everything else would always come second to his love for music, and maybe one day you would be strong enough to handle that truth.

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot myself” you interrupt him before he can finish, “You have to get going, you’re going to be late for your important meeting.” you say albeit a bit too venomously for your liking, quickly sliding out of the bed and opting to sit by the window.

“y/n” he starts but decides against it, instead deciding to give you your space.

At 8:30am you hear the door to your room close signalling Mark has left for the day. You guys barely spoke to each other at breakfast, a silent dance of tension. Every few minutes you’d shoot him a soft smile in an attempt to show him you’re not mad, or in an attempt to lie to yourself.

You had planned on going to see the cute cafes today while Mark was at his meeting, but after the events of last night you decide to stay in and wallow in self pity. Plus you have to console yourself before the dinner tonight with some music company executive that Mark kept droning on and on about on the flight over. You know this dinner is super important for his deal and no argument between the two will get in the way of that. So you swallow your hurt and anger, and decide to waste your time watching some random French drama.

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Monday night

At exactly 7pm Mark walks int through the front door. Of course he’s always

The happy couple, you walk hand in hand into the restaurant. Mark’s manager greets you guys at the door, ushering you both to join the rest of the party inside.

“Mark, I want you to meet Mr. Devon” his manager announces pushing Mark towards the older gentlemen.

As he let go of your hand for what felt like the millionth time, your picture perfect dream was starting to crumble all around you. All the painful memories, all the nights he left you waiting around for him, all the times he put his work, friends, colleagues before you, all the broken promises and forgotten dates.. Yes, forgotten, like you had forgotten your friends like they were something to check off a to-do list. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame him, not really, no. Mark, he was only chasing after what was important to him, and that wasn’t you, not anymore.

With your head hung low, you quietly make your way to your seat.

Once Mark is done making the rounds saying his hellos, he takes his seat next to you, intertwining his fingers with yours. And as you stare aimlessly down at your interlocked fingers, you catch a glimpse of the classouses on his hands from hours and hours of strumming his guitar mindlessly while writing lyrics. It then becomes painfully obvious to you, you don’t belong here, at least not with him, not now, it was time for you to let go, let him run as fast and far as he can, chasing after his dreams. Slowly removing your hand from his you plant a soft kiss on his cheek letting your lips linger for a second before you whisper your last words of the night to him “I love you, I’m sorry for doing this to you tonight but I wish you the best Mark”. You walk out of the restaurant refusing to look back, too afraid that one look into his beautiful tear filled irises would make you crumble on the spot.

Au revoir mon amour, if the universe wills it surely we’ll meet again.

(Note: Hi 👋🏽 if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading for first ever fic. I started writing this based on Carrie & Miranda’s argument and then just let the story take me where ever. I’m thinking of maybe giving it a part 2, what do you think?)

#nct #nct dream #mark lee #nct 127 #mark nct #mark lee x reader #mark angst #mark lee angst #nct x reader #nct dream angst #nct 127 angst #nct oneshot #nct dream oneshot #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader

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winchesterwild78 · 6 hours ago

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An Unexpected Friendship pt 7

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, mention of death, Mention of panic attacks, some angst, SMUT!

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter has Jensen realizing how much he messed up and working on fixing what he broke, with a little help from a sweet little girl. 😀

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

The next few days in the house were strained. The kids went to school and I stayed to myself for most of the day. Terri and the other nurse, Angela would alternate coming in and taking care of Jensen. His physical therapy was starting today, so Angela was waiting on the physical therapist downstairs with me.

“Hey, Y/N, how are you doing? This can’t be easy on you.” I looked up from the book I was reading, “I’m okay. My main focus is Jensen getting better. Then we can move on. His kids need him back to his old self.” “You and your little girl do too.” She offered a smile. I just nodded.

The pain in my heart had only grown since that day. Jensen and I hadn’t spoken since. I would wait until Terri or Angela was in the room with him before I’d go in and grab what I needed. I couldn’t look at him. Just hearing his voice broke me.

Jared and Gen had come by to check on us and offer advice. They knew the gap between Jensen and I was only getting wider. Jared being the mediator he is, tried his best to help repair Jensen and I.

“Jared, I appreciate everything you’re trying to do. I really do, but Jensen made it clear he blames me for the accident, and he doesn’t want me here. We haven’t slept in the same room since that day. I just have to figure out what to do. Jazzy loves him so much, and I love the kids. I can’t break her heart or theirs’, but I can’t continue to live with someone who is angry with me.”

Jared pulled me into a big hug, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You know you and Jazzy are welcome to stay with us if you need to. We know how you feel about going back home.” “I appreciate it, Jared, but I can’t drive a wedge between you and your brother. I love you guys too much to do that.”

As Jared and I talked, Gen went upstairs to check on Jensen. Angela was helping him sit back down when she walked in.

“Hey Gen. It’s good to see you. Is Jared here too?” Jensen smiled. “Yes he is, but don’t use that smile on me Jensen Ross!” Jensen’s eyes went wide, “Whoa what did I do?” Angela excused herself to give Gen and Jensen some space. “You broke her fucking heart is what you did, Jensen. She’s lonely and so heart broken. She truly believes you blame her for the accident.”

“Gen, I never said that to her. I don’t blame her.” “You might not have said it, but your actions speak louder than any words. Have you even tried to talk to her?” Jensen just shook his head no.

“Dammit Jensen, you’re going to lose her and that beautiful little girl.” Jensen’s breath hitched. He knew Gen was telling the truth, but he wasn’t sure how to fix this or if you’d want to fix it.

The conversation with Gen and Jared was two days ago. Jensen had tried to reach out to you through text since you wouldn’t come near the room. He didn’t want to get the kids involved, so he figured he’d text you.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart. Can we talk?

Me: I’m not sure what there is to talk about.

Jensen: Us? How much of an asshole I am. How you have every right to walk away from me, and hate me.

Me: I don’t hate you, Jensen.

Jensen: Well, that’s a start. Can you come to our bedroom so we can talk?

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m really tired. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.

Jensen: Oh, okay. I’d like that. I love you, Y/N.

Me: Good night, Jensen.

I put my phone down and sobbed. I wanted to run into the room and hold him. Kiss his lips and tell him how much I loved him. I knew he was hurting, but so was I. I was scared of never holding him again, never feeling his love again.

I sobbed into my pillow. Sleeping down the hall from him was so hard. I craved his touch, I wanted to feel safe enough to sleep, but I couldn’t. Then I heard a soft knock on my door. I wiped my face, sat up and said “come in.” It was Jazzy.

“Hey baby girl, are you okay?” I asked, trying to hide the tears. “I’m sad mommy.” I pulled her into my lap, “Why are you sad baby?” “Because you’re sad, and Daddy Jensen got hurt.” “Oh sweetie, I’m okay, and Jensen will be okay too. He’s doing great with his healing and he’s starting to walk around more.” “But mommy, you’re not in there with him. You’re in here and you’re so sad. Sad like when daddy died.”

My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t know she knew I was so sad, I’d only cry at night after I was sure they were asleep. “Oh baby, I’ll be okay. I’m just sad Jensen got hurt and is upset about it. Everything is going to be okay baby.” I kissed her head and smiled, trying to fight the pain away. I carried her back to her bed, gave her Braveheart and kissed her head again.

I went back to the guest room and crawled in the bed. Covering my head with the blanket and burying my face deep in the pillow, I let out a scream and then I just broke.

Jensen laid in bed, flipping through the photo album I had made for him. He missed me so much, my lips, my hands, my body. He knew he fucked up and it was going to take more than a text to fix this.

As he put the album away, he heard a soft knock on his door. His heart leaped in his chest. “Come in.” He said softly, but loud enough to be heard. The door slowly opened. Thinking he was about to see me, he was a little taken back when he saw Jazzy.

“Hey baby girl, are you okay? Mommy isn't here.” She climbed on the bed beside Jensen and snuggled next to him, “I know daddy, she’s in the other room, crying like when my other daddy died. She’s really sad. I hear her cry every night. Are you going to die too?”

Jensen’s heart broke, hearing that you cried every night, “No baby girl I’m not. I’m okay. Mommy is just sad because I’m hurt and she can’t help me. I promise you I’ll make Mommy’s heart better.” “Okay daddy, I love you. I’m going back to bed now.” “I love you too sweetheart, and thank you for letting me know about mommy.” She nodded and left the room.

Jensen was determined to get to me. He grabbed his crutches and headed towards the guest room. He lightly knocked on the door waiting for me to answer. I couldn’t hear the door through the blanket, pillow and the sobs.

He opened the door and saw me, head covered and buried in the pillow, he could hear my sobs. Tears fell from his eyes. It broke him to see me so broken, knowing he caused it. He walked to the side of the bed and sat down, lightly touching my back.

I shot up and looked at him. “Jensen, what are you doing here?” I wiped my face, trying to hide the fact that I had been crying. He lifted my chin with his hand, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for anything. I fucked up. I took it out on one of the most important people to me, and now I’ve lost you.”

I looked at Jensen, I could see the regret and sadness in his eyes. “Jensen, you haven’t lost me, but you have to talk to me. We won’t make it if you don’t open up to me and talk to me. Why did you take it out on me? If you don’t blame me, then what was it?”

Jensen took a deep breath, “The day I got hurt I had been so distracted. All I wanted to do was be home with you and the kids. When Dee and I first started dating, we acted in the same town and didn’t have children, so being apart wasn’t an issue. After JJ was born it started to get harder, but we made it work. When you and Jazzy came into our lives, I never wanted to leave your side. Especially after everything you two had been through.”

“After I talked to you and you told me about Jazzy I got in my head. Thinking about how lonely she must be feeling and how she’d already lost one daddy and I was sure she was feeling like I left her too. I hated myself for making her feel that way.” I touched Jensen’s arm, “Jensen, she’s okay. I promise.”

“What about her mommy?” His green eyes, full of regret, looked deeply into mine. “I’m getting there.” My breath hitched, it was hard to look him in his eyes. I swallowed hard, being this close to him I could feel his body heat. My heart rate picked up. Then his hand brushed against my cheek. I leaned into his touch. It had been too long since I felt him.

Instinctively I leaned closer to him. I could feel his hot breath mixing with mine. “Jensen..” “Y/N..” My lips crashed against his in a kiss that was full of need, regret and love. Oh so much love. His hands tangled into my hair as we deepened the kiss. The pain, sorrow and anger from the past few days was slowly starting to melt away.

When we finally pulled away from each other, our chests were rising and falling quickly taking in air. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. I never should have taken anything out on you. You and the kids are everything to me. I’d be lost without you five. Please baby, don’t leave me, don’t leave us.”

“Jensen, you can’t do that to me. You can’t push me away when things get bad. You have to talk to me, if we’re going to make it, we have to deal with things together.”

“I promise baby, I will never push you away again. I love you sweetheart, so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll still have me.”

I placed my hand on his chest, “Jensen, I love you so much. These past few days have been horrible without you. I hated this distance between us.” He placed his hand on mine, “Then let’s go to our room and go to bed baby.”

I nodded as I helped Jensen stand and we walked back to our room. Once in the room, Jensen closed the door and I helped him back to the bed. He set his crutches to the side, and I slid in the bed.

Jensen offered me his arm, and I scooted towards him, laying my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “God I love you so much. I can’t believe I almost lost you. I’m so fucking foolish.”

“Jensen, what really happened on set? I know you well enough to know what we talked about before didn’t distract you that much.” Jensen sighed, “Well the scene I was shooting involved me saving a little girl about Jazzy’s age. Homelander was using her as bait to get to her parents. He killed her father and the little girl was crying out for her daddy. I had to rescue her, and when I started to grab her all I could think about was Jazzy and how I wanted to protect her and you from Robert. I started to have a panic attack and felt dizzy, lost my balance and fell. I was so embarrassed.”

“Jensen, having a panic attack isn’t something to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry that scene triggered you and caused you so much pain. We are safe, Jensen. Safe because we have you. I hope you know that little girl in the other room sees you as her daddy. She feels safe with you, with your children. I see you as my partner, my love, my forever, my home. I love you so much Jensen, nothing will ever change that. You saved us not only from Robert, but from our empty life.”

Tears pricked Jensen’s eyes, and he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I see you as my love, my forever, my home too. I see Jazzy as my daughter, you both fit perfectly here with us. I know the road that led us together was paved with heartache and loss, but I am so glad I have both of you.”

I let out a deep sigh. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Jensen asked softly as he held me tight. “I was so scared seeing you in that hospital. It brought back all those buried feelings from when I lost Joshua. I was so scared I was going to lose you too. Then I’d have to go home and tell our babies you weren’t coming home. I didn’t know how I was going to survive that.”

Jensen kissed me and pulled me tightly. “I’m okay, baby. I promise you won’t have to have that conversation with them.”

I smiled and relaxed against him. “Oh, Y/N, can we get rid of the nurses now? They are great, but do I really need a nurse when I have you?” “Maybe. You don’t like it when Terri or Angela give you a bath?” I giggled. “You know what, no.” He laughed. “The only woman I want to see all of this is you, my love.”

“Okay, I’ll call the agency tomorrow. Besides with you doing physical therapy you should be back moving around by yourself soon. I think we can tell them goodbye if you’re sure.”

“Oh yes, I’m positive.” He kissed me again. “Hey sweetheart, do you think tomorrow you can help me take a shower?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’d love to, now let’s go to sleep.”

“Good night sweetheart, I love you.” “Good night, Jens. I love you too.” We kissed again and then I fell into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in his arms.

The next morning when I woke up I woke up with Jensen’s strong arms still wrapped around me. I snuggled closer to him and nudged him awake. “Jens, I need to get up and get the kids ready for school.” “Just five more minutes, please.” He said in a gruff voice, pulling me closer to him.

About an hour later I was heading out the door with the kids to get them to school. Jensen was up and doing his physical therapy. He had a doctor’s appointment later in the afternoon, so he wanted to shower and be ready.

When I got back home his physical therapist was getting ready to leave. I stopped him to check on Jensen’s progress. He told me Jensen was doing really well and he thought Jensen would be released back to work in another week or two. He just wouldn’t be able to do any stunts for another few months.

Walking into our shared room I saw Jensen sitting on the bed without his shirt on. I bit my lip. God he was a gorgeous man, even covered in sweat from his workout. “You ready for your shower, baby?’

“More than ready.” He smiled. I put the plastic over his cast and started the water for him. He had a towel wrapped around his hips that left nothing to the imagination. My thighs clenched together.

Seeing Jensen practically naked had my body reacting in ways that even made me blush.

Jensen smirked, “Like what you see, darlin’?”

I bit my lip, “God yes.” I let out a breath. Jensen pulled me closer and kissed me deeply. Biting my lower lip as he pulled back.

I set up the shower seat for him. I knew it was easier for him to navigate the shower sitting down. I helped him in and handed him the showerhead. His bottom lip poked out in a pout. I chuckled, “What’s wrong?” “I thought you were going to help me.” “Jens, in order for me to help you I have to get in the shower, and I have my clothes on.” Jensen smirked, “So take them off.”

I could see his length growing and my desire building. I slowly started to remove my clothes. My heart beating wildly in my chest.

With my clothes off I climbed in the shower with Jensen. His eyes scanned my body and I blushed. “God you’re gorgeous, baby. Come ‘ere.” He pulled me close to him and I stood between his legs. His length was rock hard as it pressed against my thigh.

Jensen pulled my lips to his and kissed me. His hand snaked up my thighs and fingers went in between my folds. He smirked against my lips feeling how wet I was. I gasped as his fingers slid inside me, setting a rhythmic pace as he hooked his fingers up.

My hips are moving in tandem with him. My hands rested on his shoulders as I began to give into the pleasure that was moving through my body. It had been so long since he touched me and I was embarrassed I was already close.

I bit my lip to stifle the moan, “Jens, oh fuck, I’m close.” His fingers hooked up and he started rubbing my clit, “Let go for me baby.” His lips attached to my nipples, and he sucked hard. I screamed in pleasure. “Oh fuck, Jensen! I’m cumming.” My head fell backwards as his hands continued to work their magic.

My legs began to shake and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. “Jensen, I need you.” I breathed out. Jensen pumped his length a few times and I straddled him, taking every inch inside. I placed my hands on his shoulders to help steady myself. As Jensen adjusted and pushed further inside we both moaned.

“God, you feel so good baby.” Jensen’s head laid in the crook of my neck. I began to move my hips and grind down on him. “Yes, baby! Keep doing that.” He kissed my lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

I felt I needed more leverage so I got up, pulling a groan from him, then I sat with my back against his chest. I took his length in hand and guided him in. My legs placed firmly on the ground in between his. I used his thighs to steady my hands as I continued to bounce up and down. Each bounce pulled Jensen closer to his release.

“Fuck! That feels so good, Y/N. Don’t stop, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Jensen grabbed my hips and with a grunt I felt his load shooting inside me. His body trembling under mine as he filled me up.

When he was done I stood up, cleaned myself and him up, and turned off the water. Jensen stood with my help, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply. “That was amazing, baby. It’s been far too long.” I kissed his lips, “Yes it was, and yes it has been.”

“Best shower sex I’ve ever had.” Jensen chuckled. “I’m glad, it definitely was for me too.”

After we got dressed, Jensen pulled me in for a kiss. “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for not giving up on me, on us.” I lightly touched his chest, “Jensen, I will always fight for you, for us. I love you too.”

We left our shared room together, heading downstairs to leave for Jensen’s appointment. No matter what the doctor said today, I know we both will tackle it together.

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

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stars1997 · 13 hours ago

Note

I’m here to make a rempe request 🤠 he looked way too good during the stampede. anyway you can write something up where you go there and you bump into him and start dancing and then he goes on to try to win you a stuffed animal playing one of those little corny carnival games.

Rodeo Fun

Paring(s): Matt Rempe x reader

Warnings: Fluff!

“Come on!” You say grabbing your cowboy hat off the hook by the front door. Your friend comes hopping around the corner trying to put her boot on.

“Sorry. I had to make sure that my top was on right.” Her foot finally slides into her boot when she reaches the door.

You both rush out the door excitement rolling over the both of you. this is your favorite time of the year. This will be your third year going.

You both get out of the car. The crowd to get it is huge, and it only seems to be getting bigger.

“Come on I want to make sure that we get good seats for the show. Preferably next to the bull riders.” y/f/n said grabbing your hand and pulling you into the crowd.

Once you're finally in your in shock at what you see, you always are. People everywhere running around eating, drinking, and playing games. You turn to your friend, and both of you let out a squeal of excitement.

She grips your hand harder and pulls you again. she’s weaving through the crowd of people like a pro. But you on the other hand can’t seem to stop bumping into people.

You look down at your phone to check to time for one second when you run into something hard, stopping you and your friend in your tracks. You look up to see a very tall man standing before you. all this seemed to happen so fast. he turns to look at who ran into him. your eyes lock your mouth falls open to apologies, but no words come out. He smirks at you before you are pulled away by your friend again.

“Come on! It’s starting!” she says to you before turning to the tall mystery man.

“I apologize for her clumsiness, but we got to get going now.” he doesn’t even spare your friend a glance. His eyes focused on you, even as you were pulled away from him. You shake your head a little, almost like you’re breaking a trance.

The day felt like it went by so fast yet so slow. You and your friend have done so many things that didn’t even scratch the surface of things you could do here. You were having so much fun. But one thing played in the back of your mind all day, and that was the handsome, tall man that you bumped into earlier.

You and your friend stopped to get a drink before you went to the concert that was being held in a few minutes. you love country music and were so excited to go and dance. Your friend handed you your drink before pulling you along so you would be able to find a good spot at the concert.

When you go there the music has already started. it was one of your favorite songs, so you started singing along, holding your drink in the air before moving your hips to the beat. You turn around to look at your friend but are met with a torso you look up to see the man you bumped into.

“Hi, I’m Matt.” he sticks his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m y/n.” you shake his hand, your hand engulfed in his.

“Mind if I dance with you? I mean, it’s the least you could do after you ran over me earlier.” You let out a laugh. You shake your head, yes. He smiles, looking down at you before turning you around and pulling you back into him.

Your hips moved in sync with the music. his body towered over you. his hand on your hip just felt right. You spent the rest of the concerts singing and dancing with Matt. The sun is starting to go down. Matt took out his phone to text his group that he was going to be taking you to the carnival games. You texted your friend the same thing telling her that you would meet up with her at the ticket booth later. She sends a thumbs-up in response.

You put your phone in your back pocket and look over to Matt who is already looking at you. he smiles at you reaching his hand out to take yours. You make your way over to the carnival games. You pointed to one of the booths, it was the one where you had to toss the balls into the bucket and have them stay in.

“I want to try this one.” You pull him over to it and take out some of the tickets you got earlier handing them to the lady behind the counter. She hands you three baseballs and moves out of the way.

You pick one and get into the stance to throw it. You toss the ball into the bucket, but it bounced out and onto the ground. You tossed the two other balls and they both stayed in. You got to pick out a small prize. Taking the small toy from the woman’s hands you turn around to show Matt.

“Look it’s so cute.” You move the stuffed animal, so it looks like it’s doing a little dance.

“Where too next?” He asks you. look around trying to find a fun game to play next. That’s when you spot the biggest stuffed animal you have ever seen in your life. You let out a shriek and point to the big stuffed dog.

You both walk over to the stand once you are close enough to see it you notice that it is a ring toss stand. You let out a huff.

“Dude ring toss is like the worst.” You say as you turn to look at Matt. Matt told you not to worry and that he’s got this. He hands the lady the tickets and she gives Matt two big buckets of rings. It didn’t take Matt long to go through both buckets.

He takes out more tickets and hands them to the lady. The goal was to get one of the rings onto the center golden glass bottle. This time Matt took his time. He made sure that every ring was tossed with the right force to at least hit the center bottle.

He was down to his last few rings. It felt like you both have been standing here for so long. You have watched every move he has made. He was super determined to get you this giant stuffed animal.

You didn’t even notice that he was down to his last ring. He tossed it and it went flying through the air for what felt like so long. But when it landed it landed right around the neck of the golden bottle. You let out a loud cheer catching the attention of one of the workers.

“Congratulations! Would you like the big dog or the big cat?” the worker looked at Matt as she asked the question, but Matt was only looking at you. you respond to the worker saying that you will take the big dog. The worker nods and leaves to go and get one for you.

You couldn’t have had a better night. You and Matt spent the rest of the day talking and trying food. He made sure you didn’t have to lug around the big stuffed dog all day. When the sun started to go down, you got a text from your friends that said to meet her at the ticket booth. Matt walked with you to meet your friend. When you got to her, you saw that she was hanging out with Matt’s sister and friends.

When she saw the both of you, her eyes widened. Looking at the big stuffed puppy that you told Matt you could carry now. a huge smile stretches across your face, then hers. You stood and talked with everyone for a bit. Matt standing next to you with his hand resting on your lower back. your friend leans over to whisper in your ear,

“You need to tell me everything.” You nod your head. You say bye to everyone. Exchanging numbers with Matt before your friend dragged you to the car. when you go into the car, you both turn to each other and let out a loud squeal. She starts up the car backing out of the parking spot.

“You know his sister said that he wouldn’t stop talking about you all day after you bumped into him. now tell me everything.” she smirks at you as you talk about what happened between you and Matt.

#hockey smut #smut #hockey imagines #nhl smut #nhl imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe smut #matt rempe #hockey fluff #fluff #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe fic

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jamespotterismydaddy · 11 months ago

Text

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?”

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him.

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him.

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.”

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.”

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant.

“What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.”

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously.

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?”

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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riminiscensce · 4 months ago

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THINGS AJAW HATES

CHARACTER … kinich and ajaw

SYNOPSIS … the title says it all, here are some things ajaw hates about you and kinich

NOTES … can’t help but think about these two, I doubt ajaw doesn’t actually see him as a friend (p.s. check out this kinich x f.reader fic >:))

CONTENTS … sfw , fluff , platonic (ajaw) , domestic , gender neutral reader , likely ooc kinich & ajaw

Word count … 1043

Ajaw is a simple dragon, if he hates something, he lets it be known to others; if he likes something, he tries to hide it to save face. A simple dragon.

There are many things Ajaw has hated ever since Kinich moved in with you. You; someone whom Kinich calls his significant other, his best friend, his lover even.

The longer he stays there, the more Ajaw realizes he really doesn’t like it. Everything just feels so different.

Ajaw hates how long it takes for Kinich to say goodbye.

Usually, Kinich wakes up in the morning, gets ready, and then they both leave to start their hunt. But with you, it changed.

Instead of simply leaving at the brink of dawn, Kinich starts to slow down his movements, as if he doesn’t actually want to leave the house just yet, something Ajaw finds really odd about this nimble guy.

Kinich doesn’t just leave through the door after getting ready, not anymore. Instead, Ajaw always sees him helping you out with breakfast, always talking as if he’d never run out of things to say to you.

And when he’s about to leave, Kinich takes even longer when saying goodbye to you. Ajaw would always float there while the two of you kissed your goodbyes. It was painfully slow.

“We’re not going off to war here! Chop chop!” Ajaw would always voice his complaints loudly, always only receiving a small laugh from you before he and Kinich head through the door, starting their job.

Another thing Ajaw hates is that Kinich is harder to get annoyed now! He barely shows any annoyance nowadays, the rare times that Kinich would break out in irritation was starting to become nonexistent. Ajaw realizes it was all because of you.

The dragon doesn’t see that annoying scowl on the hunter’s face anymore, nor does he get scolded by Kinich whenever he’d mess with him. No matter how hard Ajaw tries, Kinich no longer clicks his tongue at him at all.

Oh and also—Ajaw hates having to share a space with your damn pet! He just hates it! Your pet is so energetic and loud, always chasing after his tail that he’s basically forced to hide behind you or Kinich.

You’d always shake this off though, telling him to get along with your pet, to treat it as a sibling or something. Your statement ticks off all the wrong buttons in Ajaw. He isn’t a pet. He doesn’t want to put up with any more of your pet’s shenanigans.

Not to mention, Ajaw hates it when he’s left alone in the house during your and Kinich’s date night. What’s he supposed to do all by himself? He can’t talk to anyone, tick anyone off, or do anything fun at all.

Ajaw has hated a lot of things ever since Kinich moved in with you.

Instead of his usual routine, so many things have changed so fast that Ajaw doesn’t know how to deal with it.

He hates it. He hates it a lot.

But whenever Ajaw thinks about wishing to return back to how it was back then, his little mind starts to think differently.

He will never say it, but Ajaw likes waking up early in the morning with a heavenly smell coming from the kitchen. He loves floating there to see you and Kinich, laughing at something you guys said while preparing the table.

Then he sees what you guys cooked, flavored slices of meat with beans mixed into the pot. Something he likes. When Ajaw went to the table, he saw three plates.

One for you, one for Kinich, and one for him too. He likes how full the table was, that there were three plates instead of none at all.

And on some occasions, Ajaw likes how you and him would gang up on Kinich and tease the hell out of him. Just innocent teasing, nothing more. Instead of the unbothered expression that Ajaw was too used to, Kinich would subtly laugh along with the two of you.

A laughing boy was something Ajaw was not used to, but he admits to himself that the smile suits Kinich quite well.

What’s more, Ajaw likes his new bed! Gone are the days he’s forced to either sleep on some hard wood or share a bed with Kinich. This time, you made him his own bed, paired with two soft pillows and a warm blanket to keep him warm during the cool nights.

You even placed a little lamp beside it if he ever wakes up in the middle of the night scared—oh what? I mean—the Dragonlord never gets scared. Why did you even put a lamp beside his bed? Not like he’ll need it or anything.

Ajaw likes having company all the time. No longer does he have to sit still in painful silence while Kinich naps the day away. Instead, whenever Kinich is resting, you’re there to accompany him. And even if you were napping alongside Kinich, Ajaw could always play with your pet (only when he’s truly bored though).

The Almighty Dragonlord is a big hater, a loud complainer, always wanting more than what he’s receiving. He is someone who used to pass his time by trying to pull out an expression from the inexpressive Kinich.

But Ajaw is also a sweet dragon, a fortunate friend, starting to accept the change you brought to his and Kinich’s lives.

He started to think that, maybe, change is a good thing.

After all, he wouldn’t have seen so much expression on his friend if it weren’t for you. He wouldn’t have such a nice bed if it weren’t for you. He wouldn’t be waking up to a tasty breakfast if it weren’t for you.

And, in a way, Ajaw thinks that he wouldn’t have anything at all if it weren’t for Kinich.

He has made up his mind.

Ajaw loves saying goodbye to you before going to work with Kinich.

Ajaw loves laughing alongside Kinich over something stupid.

Ajaw loves it when you two give him something after coming home from your date.

Ajaw loves it when he gets included in your outings.

Ajaw loves the two of you.

Not like he’ll say it out loud though.

rimi’s notes

I used to be a big fan of naruto back then and I screamed when I realized JP kinich and ajaw are the same as sasuke and naruto‼️‼️ Also, if you wanna read a kinich x f.reader fic, here! :) kinich is at college, ajaw is a lizard, mc is a designer

hearts / reblogs / follows are very much appreciated !

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader

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kissitbttr · 1 year ago

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this is miguel o’hara being a dick

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

miguel knows he’s fucked.

he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.

but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.

you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.

yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.

the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.

“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,

hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”

his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”

“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”

“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”

“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”

no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.

un-fucking-believable

“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“

Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.

“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.

“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.

oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.

the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.

“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.

Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.

“cariño i—“

“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,

but he just did and now he’s paying the price,

his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.

“baby, please—“

you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”

with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.

he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.

it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.

he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.

but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy

God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.

and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.

Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.

he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.

“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“

soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.

Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.

beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.

Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”

you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”

you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.

tulips. your favorite

he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”

that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”

“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”

a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.

you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.

“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“

“stop talking”

he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.

seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.

“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”

he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“

“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”

Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.

“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”

“a cute one though” you pout at him,

he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”

“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”

he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”

you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”

he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”

he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”

his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.

you do miss him touching you,

“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”

Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.

“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”

you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,

“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,

“i wanna hear you scream my name.”

part 2?

#miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst

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seungfl0wer · 5 months ago

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*Lee know Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Lee Know x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Arguing, Cursing, A sort of happy ending?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Cutting up some veggies as you watched your boyfriend cook dinner, he was always so handsome like this so in his zone. As you got done cutting you brought it over to him. Standing by his side as he went to grab something you would hand it to him, He moved you would move. You thought to yourself how sweet this moment was however that’s not exactly what he was thinking. He was getting frustrated cause as much as he really loved when you helped the kitchen was too small for you both to be doing stuff.

“Y/n can you please give me a little bit of space” he said his tone sounding annoyed. You looked up at him feeling bad for bothering him so you slumped back into the chair. “Why don’t you set the table?” He asked seeing your reaction. You nod feeling a bit upset as you did so. You both sat down to eat finishing the delicious food fast before plopping yourselves down on the couch to watch a movie.

You wanted to make it up to him for bothering him while he was in his element so you wrapped your arms around him snuggling up to him. He let out a small sigh as you did so, you looked up to the man who was trying to focus on the movie. His face stern looking still with a hint of that annoyance from earlier. “Hey babe is everything alright? You seem on edge today?” You said softly trying to read his face. “It’s fine” he said blankly still keeping his attention on the tv.

“Love please, talk to me I can tell something’s up. Is it work? Did I do something?” You went on rambling before he cut you off “y/n please. Can we just watch the damn movie.” He hissed his voice harsher than it was supposed to be “can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” You said not wanting to drop it, although you probably should have. “For fuck sakes y/n!” He said turning off the tv and getting up “you have been- been so clingy lately. You have been up my ass since we came back from the US. Why can’t I just get a few minutes of just peace. First you won’t leave me alone while I’m cooking and now I can’t even watch a damn movie without fucking 50 questions!” His voice echoed across the room.

Your heart was pounding trying all you had not to cry “I’m fucking sorry I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a month, god fucking forbid me for wanting to spend time with him!” You hissed back. You stood up quickly walking to your room, you grabbed a bag and packed some clothes as Minho continued behind you. “It’s one thing to fucking miss me y/n but it feels like you’d want to sit on my lap while I take a fucking shit cause you “miss me so much” you act like we didn’t talk at all which again had me no fucking time to myself!”

You put your bag over your shoulder “Fine you want alone time so fucking bad! Then be alone Minho!” You said storming towards the front door. Your mind raced as you could feel the tears pulling at the corners. No. No crying he doesn’t get to see that. “Good! That’s exactly what I fucking wanted, I’m happy you get the fucking message now!” He said still yelling behind you. You bit your lip his words cutting deeper each time he spoke. You turned around quickly feeling the tears coming “fuck you Minho! I’m- I’m fucking done!” You spat almost running out the door you could hear him before you were out “me fucking too!”

You had gone to a friend’s house to stay she held you close rubbing your back trying to console you. Everything hurt, your head was spinning, your eyes red from crying cheeks stained with tears. “Want me to get some of that cake you like so much and we can sit and eat it while watching horror movies” she said smiling “why horror movies?” You said smiling a bit “cause at least dumb men die in it” she laughed making you laugh too. She was always such a good friend knowing exactly what to say and do to make you feel better.

After Minho calmed down a bit he sat back down on the couch. He turned the movie back on but quickly turned it off “damnit, even when they’re not here they ruin it.” He said throwing the remote back down to the table. He laid back on the couch looking up at the ceiling he felt a heaviness in his chest “no I wanted alone time” he said shaking his head “I wanted this..” his words trailed off. “But why’s it feel so bad.” He said with a deep sigh.

He looked at his phone wanting to text you but not daring too. He knew he was out of line but he didn’t want to be the first to admit. Your words ringing in his head though “I’m done.” What did you mean? Were you ending the relationship? The thought of this made a lump in Minhos throat. Surly you weren’t serious right? .. Right??

Almost a week had passed with radio silence on both ends. It wasn’t like either of you didn’t wanna message the other but neither of you wanted to do it first.

You had thought about things a lot, you decided about going home and just staying in the guest room. You knew Minho wasn’t home at the moment and all though your friend had a great idea “just move out while he’s not home, give him the ultimate alone time he wants” you couldn’t afford that right now. And quite frankly why does he get to keep the place and you move?

You walked into your apartment thinking of what exactly to do. Your head spinning a bit from thoughts “what the fuck am I even gonna say?” You said to yourself “are we even together anymore?” You sighed loudly you stood there for a good minute or two before making your way to the bedroom. You scrounged up most of your things moving it into the guest room you felt yourself wanting to cry again “fuck you” you said softly. You locked the door, put on some music and just curled up into a ball. You had fallen asleep quickly the feeling of being in your home making you sleep easier.

Minho had come home late walking through the door to see your shoes on the floor. His face looked confused before he heard music playing “did she come home?” He said to himself making his way to what was your shared bedroom. He looked over it seeing you had taken stuff he felt his heart sink. He saw the small light coming from under the guest rooms door making the thoughts of you moving disappear. He walked to the door trying to open it realizing it was locked he was about to knock before stopping himself.

He signed a bit walking to the living room, he slumped into the couch all sorts of emotions whirling in his head. He slowly fell asleep only to be woken up by the sounds of you coming out of the room. You quietly tried sneaking to the door your belly rumbling. He quickly turned his head to meet your eyes locking. You both were still for a second before he let out a soft “leaving?”

You shook your head no “7/11” you said trying to keep it short. You made your way to the door putting your shoes on “I- I can make you something.” His voice barely a whisper at this point. “No thank you” you said before leaving out the door. This is how it stayed for about a week. Minho tried talking to you and you just giving him one word answers. He came home from work you’d slink back into your room. He’d come into the kitchen, you’d leave just as quickly.

He started doing small things for you like leaving you breakfast in the morning, or buying your favorite drink to keep in the fridge. He usually did these things always being thoughtful in these sweet kind of actions. It made your heart hurt more. One of the days he made you your favorite lunch, he didn’t do it often because it meant going about an hour away to the restaurant to pick it up but he did. He did in the morning before he had to be at work driving there and back before his already long day.

When you saw it in the morning you started to bawl like a baby. Minho had come back home after realizing he left his phone on the counter. You were curled up on the couch listening to some of his solo music crying into a pillow. He stood there not wanting to bother you but wanting nothing more than to hold you and make things right. He started making his way towards you before you heard him your head shot up eyes meeting his. Your body moved fast tackling him almost knocking you both down.

“Min I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” you choked out tears streaming down your face ugly crying “I’m sorry for being clingy I’m sorry for being a bother- I’ll change I’ll give you more space I’m sorry I just can’t- I can’t do this anymore I miss you- everything hurts-“ you said between sobs and wiping the snot that was running down. Minho couldn’t help but cry at your words, he really had broken you. “No- y/n please don’t change, this all was because of me I’m the asshole I’m the one that should be apologizing.” He said his chest heaving.

“Don’t change please I’m sorry for calling you clingy please- I miss you, cling to me. Hold onto me for dear life please I need you..” he voice getting stuck in his throat. You’ve never seen him like this, he always kept his emotions under control but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Life has no meaning if I can’t spend it with you, if I can’t have you by my side with that shining smile of yours. The smile that I haven’t seen in how long. I ruined everything. I hurt you I ruined us things won’t ever be the same.”

His voice horse crying even harder than you now “you should hate me, you should want me to jump off a bridge. I don’t know- I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” He was rambling on. You felt your heart just braking again, he was so defeated and part of you wanted nothing more than to tell him this is exactly what he wanted. And you’d be right, but you just wanted him back, wanted things back to how they were.

You pulled Minho down to the couch both of you sobbing trying to calm yourselves. You both cried for almost a full half hour before you spoke “Things.. things will be different either way.. you.. we gotta build that trust back up” you said softly clearing your throat. “Let’s start off slow ok?” You said lifting his head to make eye contact with you.

“Well start small and work on things hmm?” You said repeating yourself. He nodded “can.. can you come back to our room?” He said whipping his nose “eventually, I will let’s start off with just trying to talk through some things ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “I love you Minho but what you said hurt and will still probably hurt in the future. But I really do love you and would rather work on things and hopefully fix it than just to through it away so easily.” You said pulling him into a hug.

“Anything, I’ll do anything to show you how sorry I am.” He said his words muffled by your shoulder. You nod sitting there in silence both of you trying to gather your thoughts and catch your breath.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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moonchild9350 · 6 months ago

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Napping With Stray Kids

Summary: Just my thoughts on napping with Skz!

Pairing: OT8 idol Stray Kids x reader

Word Count: 881

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Warnings: none (shocking for me lol)

Notes: This was fun to write and had to put something together real quick before life gets busy again! I'm happy this came up in our convos @jeonginsleftcheek! I hope you guys like it!

Likes, reblogs, and comments welcomed as always :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Bangchan We all know Bangchan has insomnia and doesn’t sleep well or much at all but he’s more than happy to at least try to nap with you if you suggest it. He’ll hold off on his never ending to do list, because he’ll do anything for his baby girl. You snuggle into his arms, as he pulls the blankets up and around you to keep you warm. His fingers lightly drag up and down your spine, soothing you. He’ll even sing you a song to help you fall asleep if you want. Tucking your head into his chest, your breathing starts to slow as you fall asleep. Chan tries, he really does, to fall asleep and nap with you but he’s perfectly content watching you sleep in his arms.

Lee Know I’m convinced that if you try to nap with Minho, sleep won’t come right away. He’ll try and tickle you knowing how ticklish you are, giggling as you squirm and grab a pillow to throw it at him. He’ll tackle you and press kisses all over your face while you laugh and tell him to stop (even though you don’t want him to, not really). After retrieving the pillows off the floor, you’ll both settle in, Minho wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling his head into your neck. If you’re lucky the kids will come nap with you guys too, Soonie napping by both of your heads, Doongie at your feet, and Dori snuggling into your side.

Changbin Changbin would be one to be watching videos on his phone like tik tok or YouTube and would giggle every two seconds at something funny. Every time you close your eyes to nap, his giggle would fill the room causing you to open your eyes and laugh back with him. You can’t help it, he’s just so darn cute! Eventually you do fall asleep, your head resting on your chest. Binnie notices you’re asleep (which is a miracle honestly because the man can’t multitask to save his life) and tries his best not to make a sound, you just look so peaceful and he wants to make sure his baby gets plenty of rest.

Hyunjin I believe that napping with Hyunjin would be the most poetic? Like you’re all curled up in his bed, blanket wrapped around you, your hair fanned out on his pillow. He’s sitting at his desk painting, cause when is he not. But you don’t mind. You watch him for a while, the way his hands move around the paper, the little face he makes when the color doesn’t come out the way he wants. You eventually drift off to sleep. Hyunjin notices, and smiles, happy you’re here with him. Little do you know, you’re sleeping form is the subject of his painting, as he thinks you look like an angel.

Han Han is the certified nap man, this is no secret. He is always down for a nap, add you in the equation and he’s the happiest man on earth. He’ll pull you into his arms, pressing sweet kisses and nuzzling his head into your neck. It doesn’t take long for you both to fall asleep. You’re just so cute together. And bonus points for the members if you guys fall asleep at the studio. They’re ohhhing and awwing at you two love birds, fast asleep together.

Felix On his off days, he’s at his computer, playing Genshin. It’s really the only time he has to play. But the moment you come over, he logs off and he goes to snuggle with you. You love looking at Felix’s face, tracing his freckles while he looks deep into your eyes. You’re both just so in love with each other. Your eyes slowly close, perfectly content in his arms. Felix would lean down to press a kiss on your nose, before closing his own eyes. He finds he sleeps best when you’re by his side.

Seungmin Now Seungmin could go both ways when it comes to napping with you. He could be a total menace by poking your face and tickling you. Making fun of your protests (lovingly of course) and not letting you sleep. Or he could be the exact opposite, a sweet puppy, pulling you close and softy singing you a song to help lull you to sleep. Either way he will end of falling asleep with you, mind blown at how he could have ended up with such a sweet person as you.

I.N. Now Jeongin is a middle child and hates skinship, this we all know. But I’m convinced if he’s going to snuggle and fall asleep with someone it’s you, the love of his life. It’s different when you touch him, he craves your touch more than he thought possible. He makes sure you’re all tucked in, nice and warm, but not so much so that he can’t feel you anymore. You’ll laugh at his actions, telling him you’re fine as long as he’s there. He doesn’t listen, he wants to make sure you have a nice rest and being warm and comfortable is part of that. To top it all off, he’ll drape your legs over his, and wrap his arms around you as you both drift off to sleep.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek

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gladiatorcunt · 7 months ago

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🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!

cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited

this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader

Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.

Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.

“He… he didn’t show up!”

Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”

He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.

You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”

Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.

“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.

He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.

divider

Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.

You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”

You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.

You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.

His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”

You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”

He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.

Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”

“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”

It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?

“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”

You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.

divider

You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.

“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.

It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.

It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.

Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.

You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”

Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.

You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.

You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”

You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.

Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.

Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.

“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”

divider

You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.

You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.

“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”

You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.

Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.

“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”

You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.

Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.

In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.

“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.

You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.

“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.

As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.

Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.

“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.

“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”

That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.

“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”

You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.

His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.

(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)

It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.

“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”

There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.

You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.

It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.

“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

Note

could you do one about all the members of 141 if the reader is super sensitive during sex, squeaks and squirms, cries but she likes it she’s just very responsive

Sensitivity during sex is subjective as everyone is different in that regard. So, here is my little offering to you, anon.

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), dirty talk, missionary, established relationship, teasing, overstimulation, cowgirl, mirror sex, vaginal fingering

John “Soap” MacTavish: Soap is a bit of a tease. (wc: 374) Kyle “Gaz” Garrick: Kyle talks you through it. (wc: 457) John Price: Wants you to watch. (wc: 404) Simon “Ghost” Riley: Simon pins you down. (wc: 391)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is a tease.

“How’s that feel, love?” he croons with a mischievous smile.

You whimper. Gasp. His hands upon your skin are simply too much.

Without an answer, Johnny goes down on one elbow, changing the position. He’s not even thrusting anymore, simply holding himself inside you, keeping your legs spread wide over his large, muscled thighs.

“Can’t use your words?” he mocks lightly as the tips of his fingers tenderly graze over a hardened nipple.

At the same time, he sinks a bit further, thighs spreading slightly, pushing your legs even wider. You’re unable to do much but writhe and wiggle beneath him. He always does this. Always teases. He loves how sensitive you are, and how your body comes alive beneath him. All the little sounds you make, all the sharp shakes and shivers, only motivate Johnny to draw forth more.

“What will happen if I touch you here, hm?” he asks, his hand dipping between your bodies. When Johnny says “here,” he runs his finger around the place your bodies meet.

Your cry is loud, and it only becomes louder when he trails upward to circle your clit. His name is there, on the very tip of your tongue, but each touch is a zap, stealing your voice.

But this touching and teasing isn’t cruel. You love every second. It only makes the end that much more electric.

“And here, love? What would happen?” he murmurs.

While still moving over your clit, Johnny leans forward, his tongue circling and then sucking your nipple into his mouth. Your body immediately contracts, every muscle tensing then relaxing. A little shiver rattles up through your spine and out to the edges of your limbs. It causes you to squirm, the sensitivity nearly overwhelming.

But there is nowhere for you to go. You are not only pinned to the bed by Johnny’s upper body but by his cock.

Johnny releases your nipple, his mouth forming a smug smile. “Suppose you need some relief, yeah?”

You curl into him, fingers digging into his skin. Johnny brushes your hair out of your face, and that too makes you tremble.

“Lie back,” he soothes, and you melt, molding to the bed as he flattens himself above you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle talks you through it.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl. Look at you.”

Kyle delicately guides your legs toward your chest. You’re bent at the knees, trembling, breathing coming fast and heavy. Every touch of his is like a brand against the skin. It is an overwhelming tsunami.

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Maybe for it all to end even though you crave the sensation.

“Gotta control that wiggling love.”

“I—I can’t,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he puts you into position.

Kyle parts your pussy with his fingers and you cry out. He tuts and then inserts two fingers. Your hips instantly buck and your back arches, wanting to escape from him.

“No no. None of that, love.” Kyle lightly presses down on your stomach, holding you still as he curls his fingers up and drags them, repeating the motion.

Again, you cry out, and then tears sting your cheeks as you claw at the bedding.

“Control your squirming and I’ll give you what you want.”

“You’re awful,” you whimper, every muscle in your body twitching, wanting to move.

“Do what I say, love. Know you can.” You inhale and Kyle chuckles softly. “That’s it. Good. Exhale. Again.”

He has you repeat the process until the muscles in your limbs calm.

Kyle’s hands retreat, and then he reclines beside you, rotating onto his back. His hand palms the base of his cock, stroking gently.

“Get on top, love. Hands on my chest. You control the pace.”

With a gentle tremble, you swing one leg over Kyle’s thighs, straddling him. You do as he instructs, placing your hands on his chest and angling your hips. He guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pushing in, stretching you wide, the sensation shooting up your spin and as well as to the tips of your toes.

“I know you can take it. Fuck, love. That’s it. Good.”

You slowly slide down on him, groaning loudly, nails digging into his chest as you impale yourself on him.

“Oh—fuck.” Kyle’s hands are on your thighs, running up and down them in a caress.

It takes every bit of your concentration to focus on the rhythm of your hips. You’re overly sensitive, and this position reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot every time you come down on him.

“Kyle,” you beg, but it’s without meaning. You just need to talk, to say something, to verbalize your need in whatever way you’re able.

His answer is a groan. “That’s it. Fuck, love. You feel amazing.”

Slowly, your eyelids open, and you’re greeted with a beautiful sight.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he says, one hand sliding between your breasts.

John Price

“Look at yourself, love.”

You are unable to move. Unable to squirm.

John has you spread wide over his thighs like a sacrificial offering. His knees are bent toward the ceiling and just parted enough that you cannot move your legs while draped in his lap. He’s got you impaled on his cock, and he is downright fucking smug about it.

While the motion of your legs is useless, you also don’t have your arms. John has them propped above your head because he doesn’t want you touching him or himself. His own muscles forearms snake up and over your upper arms. It allows you no control, but allows John everything. He can touch your breasts like this. He can touch your clit, your neck, and whatever else he wants.

John rocks and rolls his hips, dick appearing and then disappearing back into your pussy. All you can do is flex your hips a bit but it isn’t enough. You are completely trapped. At his mercy. And the sensitivity is overwhelming.

Without any control, you have to submit to John, and while you love it, it only rockets every ripple of pleasure that much higher.

“See what I have to do,” he murmurs into your ear. “You can’t stop moving.”

Tears bloom in the corners of your eyes like tiny dewdrops. You are far too sensitive for this. John is pushing you into overstimulation.

John nips at your earlobe and you gasp. “Look,” he prompts.

The closet door is open. Not by much, but enough that the mirror that hands on the inside faces the bed. Within, you see yourself, and John. You see how splayed out you are, how needy and pathetic you look in his arms.

“Look,” he says again. “Want you to watch.”

It takes all your effort to focus. Every time John rock his hips upward, his brush of skin against you is fire. It causes everything in you to react and jump. But you cannot writhe. Cannot move.

And that only makes you more frustratingly coiled with untamed need.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyelids heavy as you gaze upon the spot where your bodies meet, and how much your body stretches to accommodate him. You can see how your chest heaves, the tightness building and overwhelming your senses.

“Now you see what I see,” murmurs John as his hand delves downward to give you some relief.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Quit your squirming.”

“Then don’t be cruel,” you moan, nearly jumping out of Simon’s arms when he sharply thrusts upward.

Simon’s teeth nip at your throat and this time your body jerks, almost sending you out of his lap.

“Stay still,” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You know how sensitive I am.”

“I do. Fucking love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s an embrace, and yet there is power behind it, the muscles there tensing with anticipation. You inhale, and your exhalation is stolen from you.

Simon twists, and you go with him, rolling onto your back.

You squeak loudly only to be pinned against the bed. “Simon—”

He crushes his lips to yours, his tongue delving for your taste. The only sound you make is a whimper. “But sometimes,” murmurs Simon against your lips. Your squirming gets in the way.”

Using his body weight, Simon drives in at a harsh angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. That vibration of pleasure ripples outward, and your body reacts as it always does. But you cannot writhe and wiggle. Simon is too heavy, and he knows this, which is why he’s pinned you.

“Oh—fuck. Simon. Plea—. Please.”

“Please what?” laughs Simon softly before moving inside of you again.

The only reply you can make is a strained moan.

Simon grins, completely smug. “Tuck in, love. I’ll give you something to squirm about.”

Simon wraps your wrists up in one hand, pinning them above your head. He starts to thrust in earnest, his free hand holding the side of your throat. He watches on as tears come to your eyes. Your body wants to move, to buck and arch against him, but you are completely trapped.

Simon leans in, kisses the spots on your cheeks stained with tears. The only thing you can move are the bottoms of your legs. You wrap your ankles over his bulging calves and cling.

Every stroke and brush of his skin against yours is a roaring fire, rocketing you toward overstimulation. Words fall from your lips but they are elusive, just white noise in your ears. You know that you’re crying, that you’re speaking to him, that you’re attempting to move.

But Simon is relentless, claiming every inch of your body like he always does.

taglist:

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@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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@kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi

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@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @glassgulls

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luveline · 8 months ago

Note

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.”

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could.

“You’re not saying hi anymore?”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.”

He looks up tentatively. “You have?”

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.”

“Why?” Spencer asks.

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.”

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.”

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.”

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone.

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks.

“What are you enjoying lately?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.”

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse.

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail.

“Hug?” you ask hopefully.

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear.

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly.

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second.

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?”

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.”

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?”

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him.

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger.

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.”

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.”

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.”

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases.

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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moonstruckme · 22 days ago

Note

hiiiii mae!! hope ur having a good day/night, i was wondering if you would do a emt!marauders (or just remus) fic with a reader who maybe has past medical trauma or something so she really hates going to the doctors and avoids unplanned visits at all costs and one day she gets hurt doing something and she tells herself she’s fine but she’s really not (maybe she has like a concussion or something) and she tries to tell the boys she’s okay and she doesn’t need to go to the hospital but they’re like “yes you do u literally don’t know what day it is” and she kinda starts freaking out and they comfort her????

so sorry if you’ve done something like this you’ve written a LOT of fics (which is amazing i love them all) and i haven’t gotten the chance to read them all yet! anyways hope you have a great day i love ur fics so much!!!!!!

Thank you for your request, love you <3

cw: concussion, hospital mention, implied medical fear/past trauma

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 770 words

“This is supposed to be the sort of thing that only happens to old ladies,” Sirius mutters. “Look at James, dollface.”

James’ smile is encouraging. “He knows he’s full of shit. We see people fall in showers all the time, it’s not an age thing. You don’t have to be geriatric for soap to be slippery.”

You know, distantly, that they’re both trying to keep things light for your benefit, but their playacting isn’t helping you. You feel trapped, backed into a corner, and your lovely boyfriends who only want the best for you feel like your captors.

Sirius clicks off the light he was shining in your eyes just as Remus comes back with your clothes. They exchange a look you don’t like.

“Here, sweetheart, put this on.” Remus helps you get a sweatshirt over your head, extra careful to hold the collar away from the aching bump on the back of your head.

You stand from the bed bemusedly as he starts putting your sweatpants on for you, too. You don’t love the vibe of all this coddling, either; the boys are usually only this delicate with you when they’re very concerned, very pitying, or both.

“What’s going on?” you ask, though you already know. It’s not as if you would usually hang about in your towel all night after a shower, but they’re getting you dressed for a reason.

James’ brows twitch together sympathetically. Sirius’ voice is gentle. “Baby, we need to go get your head looked at.”

Your upset blooms fast and hot, tears choking you. “Why?”

“You have a concussion, sweet girl. It seems fairly bad already, and it could get worse.”

“But you’re…you always say hospitals can’t even do anything for those.” You know you sound childish, whiny and difficult, but you can’t help yourself. Your boyfriends don’t seem to hold it against you. James rubs your arm while Remus pulls your socks on with sweet, lingering touches. A tear squeezes out of your eye. “Why do I have to go?”

“You’re right, there’s not much they can do,” says Remus. His voice is calm and even, a balm to your frazzled nerves. “But a concussion can be dangerous, and without tests we won’t know how dangerous it is or if there’s anything they can help with.”

“That’s all we’re going for, angel,” James says lightly. “Just some tests. It won’t take terribly long, and we can stay with you most of the time.”

You’re hardly hearing him, shaking your head despite the way it aches. More tears crest your cheeks, your breaths wet and quick. “Can’t we wait and go tomorrow?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James takes your hand, squeezing your fingers. “We can’t, my love, but it’s going to be okay.”

“I really can’t.” You pull your hand from his, wiping underneath your eyes. Your hair is still wet from the shower, cold seeping into your fresh sweatshirt. “I can’t do it. Please don’t make me.” Your voice chokes into a quiet squeak on the last few words.

Remus coos and sits beside you on the bed, wrapping you up in a hug. You cry into his shoulder as he rocks you gently, murmuring against the side of your head. “Please,” you try again.

He holds you closer. “I know, darling.” His voice is a low whisper. “I know it’s hard for you, and I know it’s scary, but we’ll be there with you. It’s not going to be as bad as you’re thinking. What we’re going for is really very simple, and Sirius can explain it to you on the way, hm? You’ll be alright.”

When you calm some, he goes to warm the car, passing you off to Sirius and James to get your shoes on.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, baby,” Sirius promises, kissing the shell of your ear as he walks you outside. His arm is heavy around your shoulders and James is quick to take your hand after locking the door behind you, bolstering you for what’s ahead. “You think we’re gonna let you get hurt? This is going to be the easiest hospital visit you ever had. We run this place, they’ll have us in and out.”

“I wouldn’t say we run it,” Remus says drily as you three pile into the backseat. “More like we engage with it, in twelve hour shifts, four to five times a week.”

“But we do have lots of friends,” James chips in.

“Exactly.” Sirius busies himself with wiping the last of your tears while James gets your seatbelt on. “Like the radiographer at Bellevue. You’ll see, baby. We’ve got you covered.”

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writerpeach · 3 months ago

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Kep1er/Madein Kang Yeseo x m!reader

10k words

Happy Yeseo day!

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Read on AO3

“Come on, just go say something to her.”

“It’s not that easy, Ting.“

Two drinks in, and this isn’t your finest moment. It’s not like you’re too shy to approach a girl at the bar, or embarrassed, but—

“What’s the worst thing that happens? She tells you to fuck off?"

"Well yeah—exactly that.”

“So what? You get rejected, order another drink, and then you try again. If you don’t, then you have someone hot to take home and put your dick in.” A frustrated sigh later, and then you hear a thud against the bar counter, as your companion slams her drink down. You look over to see Xiaoting call over the bartender with a wave of her hand, as if she’s the one that needs a stiff drink more than you do.

“She's even your type. If you don't go over there and say something to her, then I will," Xiaoting huffs, reaching over to yank the fruity drink out right from between your fingers to steal a sip.

"Please, as if you know who my type is."

"She's a woman, and she’s pretty. That's your type,” she returns, a slight chuckle escaping as she sips on her own drink, eyeing you down with hopes to encourage you to get off your ass.

"I don't even know what to say. Hi, you're cute. Let me buy you a drink? That sounds all so generic, doesn't it?"

"Exactly that," Xiaoting replies. "It's not that difficult.” And with a sudden push, you find yourself stumbling into the open, caught in your own thoughts. This girl—she’s gorgeous. Even from a distance, she stands out in this white little dress that beckons you, makes your heart beat a little faster with how well it hugs her body. A cute face with that figure, it’s a sinful combination.

Well, here goes nothing.

You nearly stumble over your own two feet when you approach cautiously, incredulous to the fact that Xiaoting’s powers of persuasion are responsible for this—but you can't disappoint now. The odds seem to be in your favor: she's alone, nursing a glass of something dark and murky and barely touched, so this seems as good an opening as any.

"H-hi, I—" you stutter out before any full words can escape you, barely managing to utter a single syllable before your confidence breaks. Your words stick in your throat as the girl looks up, away from her phone for a brief glance, eyes curious. And already you feel like an idiot.

"Hi there," she says, wearing this warm smile across her lips, and the fact that she hasn't already told you to fuck off nearly has you in a panic. Yet you have no follow through, with half a mind to turn around and walk right through the exit, but you can’t with how your legs feel glued in place.

"Can I uh…"

In that brief moment, you've completely forgotten how words work. This is all so embarrassing, you don't know why you let Xiaoting convince you in the first place. You could be at home, catching up on favorite shows in your favorite pajamas—yet, you're stuck in this fancy venue, about to make an ass of yourself.

"Buy me a drink?" she finishes for you, taking pity on the fact you can't find your bearings. "Sure. As long as you have one, too.”

That goes way better than expected—you already had one foot in the opposite direction prepared to make a quick getaway. You take a seat beside her with a small victory, a quick glance back at Xiaoting who offers a silent thumbs up in the dim light from a distance, which is enough confidence to fill your entire body and get the ball rolling.

"My name's Yeseo," the girl introduces, taking a slow sip from her glass. "Saw you staring at me from across the bar.. was wondering when you would come over and introduce yourself. “

"Sorry I just—couldn't take my eyes off of you."

You want to vomit.

Of all the things you could have said, that sounds like the worst possible outcome. You curse under your breath, and nearly down your drink in one go, hoping this alcohol makes its way through your system as fast as possible.

"Don't be," Yeseo replies with a smile. "You're cute. Glad your friend convinced you to talk to me."

"Ah, was it that obvious?"

She nods, leaning forward to swirl the remains of her glass, the clink loud enough to distract you. "Noticed you staring from a mile away. Most guys come up to hit on me the moment they see me, with some shitty pickup line and a bad attitude. But not you. You hesitated. Which means you don't do this that often..."

"You got me. I'm terrible at this, in case you didn't notice already."

“Honestly," Yeseo starts. "It's cute. A welcome change from all the creepy guys who think I'll fuck them the second I talk to them."

You stare into your drink for a moment, hoping a bit more courage starts to manifest to drown the nerves. Yeseo, she's beyond pretty, absolutely the prettiest girl in the whole goddamn bar—the least you can do is treat her with respect.

"So," Yeseo says, as the bartender comes to slide you both new drinks. "You've bought me a drink. Now tell me something about yourself. Anything at all."

Her demeanor is confident, composed—while you can barely handle looking directly into those eyes without feeling flustered. Your mind has already become a blur of indecision, so you blurt the first thing to cross your mind.

"Just moved here for work a few months ago. Don't really know too many people. I met Xiaoting at a coffee shop and she showed me around the city, and somehow, she dragged me to come here for a night out."

"XIaoting? Your friend over there?"

You just nod.

"Good for her. Drinking's fun," Yeseo says and takes a long, careful sip of her glass, crossing one bare leg over the other, as if that was enough to prove her point. "Probably the best thing to do in this city."

"Have you been here a while, then?"

"A year or two," she muses. "Moved out here to do some modeling, but it doesn't exactly pay the bills. Had to resort to doing some side gigs just to cover the rest.”

"Side gigs?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

"You know. A little erotic photography.” Yeseo sips at her drink, so nonchalant and casually. “The kind that satisfies people's fantasies for the right price."

Oh.

You freeze mid-sip at the curveball you’ve been thrown, as you attempt not to choke on your own drink, unsure if you heard her correctly.

"Do you wanna see some examples? I can show you." Yeseo pulls her phone out before you can even answer, tapping a few times before sliding the phone over, as if she has no sense of discretion whatsoever to share these with an almost complete stranger.

What you see on that small screen is tamer than expected, but nonetheless—you’re taken aback.

Yeseo's all dolled up, wearing sheer white lingerie, posed suggestively on a black leather couch, legs all spread out for the camera to see—possibly in the exact same heels she has on now. She scrolls through, presenting each picture for you with a simple swipe of her finger. Different outfits, different poses, increasing levels of nudity.

It's not until she gets near the end that the pictures leave little to the imagination, no clothes, only a suggestive stare, and strategic placement of objects blocking what matters most. By the time you return her phone, you’re jolted back to reality, the startling juxtaposition between these images and this cute, bright girl sitting right next to you.

"People pay a lot of money just for me to send those types of pics. Men mostly. Then they'll pay extra just for me to pretend I'm their girlfriend. It's kind of sad actually, but it pays well, and all I have to do is send pictures of my tits and pretend to be interested for a few hours."

"The camera doesn't really do you justice…" you say out of nowhere, and you can feel your face heating up when you finish that sentence, like you've found this modicum of courage.

"Well, thanks. Aren't you the sweetest thing?" There's something to that smile, the way Yeseo glances in your direction, those eyes so alluring, so damn beautiful. She runs her hand slowly through her long, dark hair, brushing it off to one side, before resting on the counter. "I can give you a closer look if you'd like. My apartment's not far."

You almost choke on your drink again.

Yeseo doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. The look in her eyes is completely irresistible, her gaze trapping you as she inches closer, making a quick move across the counter, a hand coming to rest on your knee.

She squeezes gently and you swallow nervously at Yeseo's not-so-subtle intentions, your mouth suddenly so dry that you chug the rest of your drink—savoring the way it burns on the way down. There's no hiding the flush across your face, the obvious redness around your cheeks. "Y-yeah, that sounds—"

"You don't sound so sure. Do you need your friend to come speak for you?" she teases, the tone of her voice shifting all cute and bubbly.

Xiaoting—you completely forget all about Xiaoting, turning your head in her direction, and she offers you a slight smile and a subtle, approving nod that keeps you going. "No, not at all. I'm fine."

"Oh? Good then. Do you wanna fuck me?" Yeseo asks blatantly, pushing her drink away and pulling herself just a smidge closer until her face is mere inches from your own.

You're not fine.

You nearly faint at those words, barely able to think clearly in such a short amount of time. But you pull yourself together to answer with conviction, to gather the strength to reply with some shred of dignity. "Of course I do."

Yeseo likes that answer, and the fact that you can look her in the eye this time. "Hmm, thought so. Will your friend be joining us?"

An answer doesn't quite form so fast this time—you shift nervously in your seat at the proposition, not expecting to take things any further.

“I’m kidding. I want you all to myself.”

With your head still spinning, Yeseo takes your hand and guides you out of the bar into the open air. You catch a passing glance of Xiaoting on your way out—wearing an expression full of excitement, like she knew this was all inevitable.

Your phone buzzes once you're in the backseat of the taxi, Yeseo sliding in beside you, a message lighting up the screen. But you can already guess who it’s from before you even look.

Xiaoting (09:06 PM):

knew you had it in you

go get your dick wet, tiger

You send back a few hearts before silencing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket.

“Come here," Yeseo says in your ear, and you listen, leaning over as she kisses you with those irresistible lips, more intoxicating than the liquor running through you. One more kiss leaves you drowning in lust, and god, the way she pulls you in and devours you in an instant—it's an easy prelude to what's coming, leaving you aching for more.

You melt right then, forgetting how to breathe for a split second, when her lips press deeper against yours. By the time you recover, she's halfway into your lap, straddled atop your thighs—a bold move considering you're still very much in the presence of a complete stranger. But that hardly bothers her when she shifts against you, kissing you again, and her hands aren't shy either, exploring wherever they please.

Those lips feel as soft and sweet as they look, and you can still taste the liquor on her breath when she kisses you, all aggressive and eager, each lingering for a bit longer, almost forgetting where the two of you are, until the car halts to a sudden stop.

You reluctantly part your lips from hers, catching your breath again, as she tucks a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back at her. “This is me. Come on.”

The interruption is torturous, and Yeseo lets out this devilish little smirk when she climbs off your lap and crawls out of the cab, her urgency only growing once you get inside the building. Within seconds, you've got her pinned against a wall in the lobby, hands all over the body of this petite girl you just met, and end up missing the elevator after getting lost in these lips.

You catch the next one, and the doors are still sliding shut when you press a feverish kiss to Yeseo's neck, already leaving marks on her flawless skin that are sure to show up within hours. One elevator ride, a long hallway all the way to the back, and not a single barrier can stand in your way when you’re at her front door, pressed against the surface while these desperate kisses get more heated, making out so shamelessly for everyone to see.

"Come in—come in so you can fuck me," Yeseo says all greedily between kisses, and she wrestles getting her key into the lock, something you're both laughing about.

"That’s the plan, isn’t it?” you say, fueled by alcohol and lust, and your words surprise the both of you. Yeseo swings the door wide, tossing her keys on a counter with barely enough time to kick her heels off before she jumps into your arms without any warning.

You carry her further in, the weight of her petite frame less of a burden and more a comfort as you look around at the unfamiliar territory of her apartment—a fairly nice space. The living area isn’t exactly sparse, but doesn't feel massive either. A few paintings hang on the cream-colored walls, fashion magazines littering her small coffee table, while an open laptop sits unattended on a sleek black sofa that looks surprisingly familiar. There’s a sweater resting on an armchair opposite the couch, along with a tall tripod standing beside that seems out of place at first, until you connect the dots.

But as Yeseo looks at you, you find this sudden indomitable spirit, the confidence to do absolutely anything. “Can’t wait to get my tongue in you.” It’s the boldest thing you’ve said so far, but the effect is immediate.

“Fuck, say that again. About time you finally stopped being shy around me."

“Wanna get my tongue all over you—“

Yeseo bites her lip. She directs you to the couch, her lips never straying away for too long when you fall backwards against the cushions. And wasting no time, the laptop gets tossed aside as she plants herself in your lap again, with all the freedom to do so.

"Well, you gotta unwrap me first," Yeseo says, giggling, and takes your hands, letting them run the length of her tight body until you find the zipper at the back of her little dress. One tug is all it takes and that whole outfit is on the floor, in a heap, so easily revealing what's beneath.

In mere seconds, Yeseo sits there in nothing but lace panties, a bra that matches, and a smile—the exact same set of lingerie you saw in her pictures. A model indeed, that puts her photos to shame, this sinful body the perfect mix of feminine yet toned, and those perky breasts are a perfect handful when she unhooks the clasp of her bra with ease, letting it fall right by her forgotten dress.

The rest comes so easily—her panties drop with the same urgency, and you only catch a passing glimpse of her bare body until she falls atop the couch on her back, completely and utterly naked, offering herself to you like an exquisite feast. And so, the hunger kicks in, and this time, you make sure you don't even hesitate to indulge.

Within moments, you’re making up her body with kisses, a slow, long drag of your tongue along her flat stomach, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin. You continue upwards, paying ample attention to each breast, first one and then the other—nothing but little nips and teasing pecks until finally taking one hard nipple between your teeth, not afraid of giving just a little bit of pressure, to draw a long exhale from Yeseo.

Her fingers tangle in your hair and urge you even more, but your tongue already is flicking furiously while your other hand rolls her opposite nipple between your fingers, drawing out that little whine into a blissful moan. These cute little gasps, you love them as much as Yeseo loves her body being lavished with attention, the way your lips tease, the way your hands roam and explore, relishing the naked perfection laid out before your eyes.

“God, this feels good—wanna see what else your mouth can do." Yeseo reaches down and begins rubbing her clit in full circles, just in full view of you.

"Patience," you say, as if you have any left in you, but take the hint nonetheless and head south. And then she guides your head down between her legs, spreading them wide, so you can get the best fucking view in the world, no cameras necessary—that pretty pussy, all bare and dripping wet, so ready to be devoured.

When your mouth meets the inside of Yeseo's thighs—those perfect fucking thighs that are destined to be around your head, you take your sweet time exploring the creamy skin. From this position, it's all so visible, how wet she is, how those pink folds glisten, inviting you right in. And with those greedy fingers rubbing between, it's become even more apparent how desperate her body gets in response to your touch.

A few more wet kisses on her full thighs, and your tongue slides between those drenched folds, her arousal immediately flooding your mouth. Yeseo lets out a sharp gasp the second you taste her, with a sudden bite of her lip as she stifles a cry, hips bucking so desperately into your face. "Fuck—"

Yeseo has the sweetest taste that fills your mouth, and you want to drag this moment on forever. Your tongue teases, pushing inside and delving deep, exploring her pussy before you find her sensitive clit. She sounds so needy, that you can’t help but grant what she wants right away, circling around, flicking lazily against the swollen bud until you seal your lips around it, sucking hard.

“Shit, holy shit,” Yeseo cries out, falling apart so beautifully already. She can't stay still, writhing helplessly as the ecstasy slowly builds, the taste of heaven coating your lips. When you push two fingers inside her dripping core, curling and pumping while continuing the assault with your mouth—she just lets go, entirely, with a series of desperate whines, clutching tightly on to the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?”

"Dunno. Maybe because you taste so fucking good," you say, voice all muffled between the heavenly thighs that slowly close around your head, trapping you in their intoxicating softness. You need Yeseo to be absolutely convinced how divine she is when your fingers pull out, cleaning them off before replacing them with your tongue, plunging all the way inside her wetness.

"And to think," Yeseo pants, as she pushes your head deeper into her cunt. "You could barely fucking talk to me. Now look at you, eating my pussy—so fucking well. Not too shy to bury your head between my legs."

That's enough praise for you to make sure you deliver, to keep giving Yeseo what she wants, lapping away at her delicious cunt, eager for every drop. This time, when she clamps her thighs harder around your head, you give all you've got, working her clit frantically, slurping so lewdly to make those moans tumble out.

Her taste is unforgettable, and you can’t help but be ravenous for more, tasting as much of Yeseo as you can get your lips on, a never-ending feast that keeps those deliciously warm thighs squeezing your head. You keep a tight seal around her swollen clit, and a hand flat on her smooth stomach to pin her down—never letting up, witnessing how she crumbles, how she edges closer by the second.

"I'm close, fuck, so close," she says so desperately, eyes squeezed shut, holding your head steady to her core. You give her all these messy licks that leave her gasping, shallow breaths growing more frantic, eyes pleading, and with that one last swirl of your tongue, you take her right over the edge. "Fuck, oh god, shit, shit shit—"

It’s gorgeous, the way she shatters. Her whole body shudders, thighs quivering around your head so violently, so perfectly, as your mouth keeps all the pressure on her clit she needs, until Yeseo cums right on your face.

The pure bliss hits so hard that a surge of her delectable juices pours right into your mouth, a flood of endless sweetness, and it all tastes so fucking incredible. Yeseo keeps you right there between her legs for this burst of pleasure to linger, lips parted, crying out in broken moans, riding it all out with all these messy flicks of your tongue that draw more nectar into your mouth.

Her release is all over your face by the time she's done, and you're licking her through the whole thing. But your hunger isn’t satiated so easily, dragging through her sopping wet folds, sucking frantically on her clit, until Yeseo has to shove your mouth away—unable to take any more.

That intoxicating sweetness clings to your tongue, and you lick your lips to savor every morsel. When you glance up into Yeseo's eyes, she's still shaking, out of breath, chest heaving, blushing hard, trying to come down from the intensity.

"Can't talk to a girl at a bar, but you can make her cum like that?" Yeseo asks between gasps, struggling to recover, still riding the euphoric high after such a satisfying finish. "You are full of surprises."

You don't say much, more interested in kissing the creamy, flushed skin of her thighs, licking up whatever delicious nectar that you can clean up as her breathing starts to get under control. But the longer you lay there, just kissing, softly caressing her naked body, the more that need for your own pleasure starts to rise, reminding you how painful and neglected your erection is—straining against the confines of your pants.

You need to be inside Yeseo.

As you brazenly stare at her legs spread wide, this gorgeous exhibit of her glistening slit dripping with arousal, you tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it haphazardly on the floor. There's not a drop of discretion when Yeseo's eyes land on your bare chest, watching every movement, not even offering to help, gaze slowly lowering when she catches sight of how tented the fabric of your pants has become.

"Those need to come off, immediately," Yeseo demands, licking her lips.

"Working on it, give me a second—” you say, reaching for the belt around your waist, fiddling with the buckle, trying so desperately not to lose eye contact as Yeseo stares hungrily into your eyes. And the moment your pants and boxers finally come off, freeing your rigid cock—she's practically drooling.

"Oh fuck, that’s gonna feel so good inside me," Yeseo gasps, as her eyes light up, and already she's guiding you to her inviting heat, her small hand making all these little pumps that get you nice and hard. She lets you do the rest—the anticipation agonizing when you grip your cock tightly, pushing against her wet entrance and looking at the approval in her eyes for a fleeting moment.

And then, those silky wet folds part, and you slide right into Yeseo.

All of this was worth the effort, when you hear moans escape from her lips, nothing but bliss written on her innocent little features.

"So damn tight—fuck," you moan, her cunt so goddamn wet and warm as her walls stretch wide around your length, accommodating the first few inches. It's unreal, the sensations you feel around your cock, the wet heat, the sheer tightness—and that's all before you've even started to move.

“Fucking give it to me. Pound me, I know you want to," is all Yeseo says when you take hold of her slender waist, your fingertips pressing firmly into her perfect skin, all eager to pound into her pretty little pussy.

The invitation is too enticing, and you snap your hips, a shallow thrust at first, to get yourself accustomed to this smothering heat as she settles into the stretch. These walls covered in slick, they choke your cock from the first pump, her pussy so hot and deliciously tight around your length that it’s a struggle to not drive everything in all at once.

You want to revel in how good Yeseo feels—how good this tight fucking pussy swallows you up and might never let go. Little by little, your hips gain momentum, until each plunge gets easier and easier, building gradually to a punishing rhythm that drives needy, unstoppable moans past her lips, gasping louder each time you sink deeper.

“So good, feels so fucking good,” she says, every plunge eliciting a flood of juices between her folds that coats every inch of your cock in her delectable wetness.

You fall victim to those eyes when they meet your own, looking back at you, dark and pretty, lips parted. Without pause, Yeseo watches your cock thrust into her, taking in every inch inside her dripping folds, the delicate features you’ve drawn to paint such a sinful picture, eyes widened as she takes each delicious thrust, not able to hide her craving for more.

"Keep doing that—you feel so fucking perfect inside me," Yeseo says, soft pleads in between breaths, biting her bottom lip hard, walls clenching harshly every time her heavenly cunt gets filled by your entire length. "Oh god, give me that fucking cock—"

You're gripping her body so possessively, fingers digging hard into her flesh, pulling her down with each thrust as your cock pounds away into that tight hole. There’s no wasted motion when you meet her demands, and you get so goddamn deep, bottoming out with ease, before pulling your slick cock out enough until only the very tip remains—then you slam back in harder than before without another word.

"H-harder," Yeseo whimpers, begging for all you can give, desperate to keep you buried inside her dripping core. Her eyes nearly roll back at the addicting stretch that draws out all these pitiful noises, your hips working overtime to satisfy her needs.

Those perfect, perky tits bounce in unison with every forceful thrust, each rock of your hips into her slender frame growing more frantic, until you’re pounding mercilessly into that tight cunt. “Shit, this perfect little cunt—it feels so goddamn good, baby." And you can’t help the overwhelming feeling whenever you bottom out in Yeseo, sinking your length balls deep, again and again, that cute face all contorted in bliss when the rhythm picks up, and god, she just feels unbelievable—

"You're so fucking deep inside me," she tells you in this raspy, desperate voice as you get lost in how her tight cunt squeezes your throbbing cock. "Harder, fuck me harder, wanna feel all of you, wanna fucking cream on your big fucking cock. Pound my little pussy like I know you can.”

Your hips can’t help but oblige these depraved words, burying yourself to the hilt whenever you pull out—leaving a wet, messy slap of flesh when you sink back in.

At this point, you're basically fucking her into the couch like you’ve lost all restraint, thrusting into her hot cunt with a relentless, unforgiving pace, and still she asks for more, demands it even. You're addicted to these sensations, the needy cries she spills out when you get in so deep, the warmth of her slick pussy demanding every inch—taking it all without so much as a struggle.

"Fuck, that's perfect—don't stop," she urges, clenching down on you while her wet warm walls quiver, urging you to shove the full length of your hard length deep inside her cunt. Nothing’s going to stop you, not now, not ever, not when your cock is surrounded by all this warmth, these unforgiving clenches to keep your momentum going, pleading for your cock to fill this girl’s perfect pussy like it belongs there.

“Yeseo, fuck—you feel so incredible, love my cock in this pretty little cunt,” you groan, slamming yourself as deeply inside as you can, drawing out all these noises from Yeseo, desperate and greedy—each one driving you madder with need.

"Keep that up, tell me how good it feels to fuck me—tell me.”

You can hardly hear the words through her ragged breaths, her voice coming out so strained the longer you fuck her without respite. And you just can’t look away from how her cute, innocent features have turned into anything but drowning in lust while you thrust into her greedy little pussy with all your might.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good, baby—I love your tight fucking cunt, makes my cock feel so fucking amazing when I’m balls fucking deep inside you.” The words fall out before you can even think, because the thought of being anywhere other than this slippery warmth is out of the question.

The most sinful type of bliss you can indulge in, ramming into Yeseo’s warm little cunt this hard and this deep, watching how her small frame gets rocked, these relentless thrusts that you can’t keep up for long as you look into her pretty eyes, unable to do much but surrender to the pleasure.

“Don't stop, just a little longer—"Yeseo swings her legs around your waist, wrapping tightly around your body as if you'll even think about stopping. The way she's all coiled up gives you no other option than to piston your hips, drilling her deeper into the couch.

And then Yeseo cums all over you, eyes shut, head tilted back as she clenches so tight around your cock you're almost right there with her, struggling to hold yourself back. Because this girl feels impossibly tight when she squeezes your length, spilling all this wetness that threatens to force you out were it not for the way her legs keep you trapped.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me until you cum,” Yeseo murmurs, as her body still shakes with every pump of your hips, legs wrapping tighter to demand your cock stay inside.

"W-wait—"

"No, inside," she demands again, locking her arms around your neck, and there's no way out of this when she clings so tightly, no chance for you to do anything but empty inside her greedy little cunt. "Cum inside, please. You've earned it."

Yeseo looks right at you, that lecherous gaze you'll never be able to defy as your hips obey, until her cunt squeezes you just the right way—and then you fucking explode, unloading so deep inside her in heavy bursts. You spill everything, nowhere to empty but right into her tight pussy, a huge, thick load, one shot after another firing out of your cock.

It seems endless, the way you throb inside, flooding her cunt as Yeseo takes every thick spurt, milking you for everything you can give until your balls are completely drained and that hot cum has filled her completely.

"Yeseo, fuck…" you mutter, mind a jumbled mess as you try to remember what to call her, the girl whose name you've known all of an hour or so before you've fucked your load into her. All the tension flees your body at once, but your cock, however, doesn’t escape, because her arms and legs refuse to release.

You stay buried, hard and throbbing, long after your high has run out, until the last drop is claimed. Only then, does Yeseo loosen up her limbs, slowly letting the lock around your waist ease off, and it's over far sooner than you'd like. “Now aren't you glad you bought me that drink?"

All you can manage is this tired laugh and a sigh of relief as you collapse on her naked body, kissing at her sweaty neck with whatever energy is leftover. Yeseo, likewise, shows no signs of urgency, as you rest together to regain some strength. "Hold on…"

There's some rustling when she reaches for her handbag on the floor and grabs something from inside. When you're too weak to stay inside her warmth, eventually you slide out with a groan, leaving a huge sticky white trail pouring from her pussy. Yeseo presents her camera, aiming between her legs and snaps a few pictures to capture how absolutely messy her cunt has become after being filled to the brim. "People will pay a lot for these. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not if you share them with me too," you answer, breathless, barely coherent.

Yeseo grins at you playfully, handing over her phone so you can key in your contact details, a vibration coming through your pants pocket soon after. And then she stands up, unabashedly naked—your cum leaking down her thighs so messily as it glistens under the lights.

"I should probably head home soon. Work in the morning, unfortunately.” Instant regret hits the moment such a poor excuse leaves your lips. Yeseo however, is much more interested in capturing this big mess you’ve left between her legs.

"You're not going to stay the night? It's already pretty late.”

"Don't exactly have anything to wear in the morning. Or even a toothbrush. I wasn't planning on getting so lucky tonight.”

"I have everything you need in the bathroom," she says, determined to keep you right where you are, like she’s planned for every imaginable outcome. "But you wouldn't need extra clothes if you called in sick tomorrow, would you?"

She’s unbelievable. Not that this offer isn’t tempting, because you could pass out right here on her naked body, and waking up next to a model, one that looks like Yeseo? There’s better than winning the lottery.

"It's not easy for me to call off work,” you say, intent on keeping up these lame excuses regardless of what you actually want, which is right underneath you. “We're behind on a project and I've got some important meetings tomorrow morning…"

Yeseo remains unconvinced.

"Maybe a nice, hot shower with me will change your mind? At least clean up a bit before you decide..." she's already reaching for your hand, leading the way to the bathroom—despite the fact that you haven't said anything yet. A dangerous proposition, because you know if you step one foot inside the shower, you won't be walking away from her tonight. But maybe work can wait, and maybe you've worked enough overtime this week, because you suddenly feel a little under the weather.

Now that you’ve seen Yeseo’s naked figure under the hot running water, there’s no going back.

Once you've toweled off and shaken off some of that exhaustion, you're still naked, sitting on Yeseo's bed after a quick tour of her bedroom that doubles as a photo studio.

She makes a compelling argument lazily bobbing her head between your legs—as if you need more convincing with her mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, you've got her phone in your hands to distract you, with full access to a more explicit folder of photos she claims are for your eyes only.

When you scroll through, there's several shots of Yeseo playing with her tits, fingers shoved in her tiny little cunt for the camera, and a few of her riding a huge, fleshy toy on these same sheets, spread out on all fours with a girthy plastic cock shoved right inside her.

"Shit, Yeseo—” It’s a response to both what's on your screen, and also the warm mouth slobbering on your cock as you flip through more of her work. She lets you slip out for a brief moment, and you nearly whine, but it doesn't last long, licking at your shaft, using her hand to pump all that spit into every inch.

"This is what I do when I'm not at modeling gigs. Fuck myself on these toys my clients buy me, or take pictures of my body—you wouldn't believe what people will pay just for feet pics."

"Feet pics?"

"Among other things. But those are pretty popular requests." Yeseo shrugs a bit. She gets back to work on that mouthful of cock, while you continue to scroll through her gallery of depravity, more shots of her tits, more focused shots of her wet, pink pussy, and the aforementioned feet pics, a dozen different colors of nail polish, wrapped up in nylons, stockings, thigh high socks—the options are endless.

"God, your mouth—it's fucking insane," you tell her as your thumb scrolls through the various images on her phone. "So you don't fuck any of the guys? Just talk to them for hours?"

And it's funny how you're holding a conversation through this blowjob that gets progressively messier, with obscene trails of saliva connecting Yeseo's wet, heavenly mouth to your stiff cock.

"I'm a model, not an escort service," Yeseo says, like it should be obvious. "I’ll do whatever they pay me for, within reason. Nothing weird, but that certainly hasn't stopped guys from asking. I usually dress up in costumes, or sexy lingerie and heels, and pose however they tell me to. Most men just want me to visualize their fantasies so they can jerk off to it as many times as they'd like."

"Sounds lucrative."

"It can be, but it's not a career,” Yeseo explains as she holds eye contact when the tip of her tongue presses right below your cockhead, giving the sensitive spot just the right amount of pressure. “Plus, I have to sort through a bunch of creeps with requests that I don't allow, especially when they're not offering to pay much. It can be very demanding, depending on the person."

Through this all, you let out another groan. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to remain in the conversation, glancing down to see her angelic features on your cock. Yeseo bobs her head on and on, so sloppily, messy and deliberate, letting her spit flow all down her chin when you look away to glance back at the screen.

"People have this wild fascination with cute and innocent looking girls. I sell these fantasies, their deepest and most perverse desires fulfilled. I become anything they want. A slutty schoolgirl, a cheating housewife, a co-worker they've wanted to rail for ages. They pay me for my time and my body—I'm just the illusion they've created."

When your cock hits the back of her throat, you tense up, nearly dropping the one thing that's keeping your focus divided. Yeseo gives a slow, easy glide back to the tip before engulfing your entire cock, throat squeezing every inch of your sensitive length as she slurps hard enough to get your full attention.

But that’s when you find something even better than all those pics—it's a video, and it's taken from the shower, a perfect shot of Yeseo taking an oversized toy into her ass, inching further as she moans for the camera, spreading those cheeks for it all to go in. It nearly makes you forget about the wet kisses and tender licks on the delicate underside of your shaft, keeping your eyes to the screen, captivated.

"Ah, you found those, didn't you?" she chuckles, but she doesn't stop sucking at your shaft, dipping her mouth low to bring in your heavy balls that have filled up far too easily into her mouth.

"That ass—you've got a really nice ass, Yeseo," you admit in all honesty, your attention once again torn between the screen and how messy she's getting with her mouth on your swollen balls. Yeseo keeps playing with them, giving a nice squeeze, as she drools so heavily over each one and, this perfect fondle, massaging away while the video keeps playing.

"Yeah?" she asks after slurping hard, releasing your balls with this lewd, messy pop, drenched with a layer of spit as she gives another squeeze for good measure, moving right back to stroking your cock. "Those videos are more popular than almost anything else. My ass is kind of the moneymaker and some guys are more than willing to pay an obscene amount for a toy in my ass."

“Can’t blame them...” You’re throbbing heavily in her grip, not sure if it's the pleasure or that you've moved on to the next video, where Yeseo has the tip of a vibrator teasing her asshole. And then the toy gets pressed inside slowly, stretching her wider while you try to stifle a groan, until there's so much of it disappearing.

"We can try that if you’d like. Do you wanna do that to me?" she asks, and you're so entranced by the screen that you don't even process her words.

"No—ah, what?" you say, mindlessly distracted, setting her phone down on the sheets, bringing your full attention to Yeseo.

"That video. We can recreate it. Not with the toy, but with your cock."

Your face blazes red at that admission—unable to wrap your mind around how she looks all too innocent while proposing the most sinful things.

"I’m asking—if you wanna put your cock up my ass? You said you liked it." Yeseo can see you blush as you try not to meet her eyes, but she won't leave it be, pressing for an answer.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I do."

"Good, because you can,“ she tells you, getting up off her knees to reach into a drawer by her bed, digging up a half full bottle of lube that she tosses it toward you. “Here. Use this." Yeseo turns right around and eases into your lap, giving you a beautiful view of her perfect, plump ass that she pushes right up against your crotch, your cock nestled perfectly between.

You don't do anything besides stare, unable to get past the way those pale cheeks perfectly press up against the full length of your stiff shaft. Then Yeseo pushes back again, making the offer clearer.

"Come on, open me up," she purrs, grinding those soft, supple cheeks against your cock slowly, a nice not-so-subtle way you get the hint. "Your cock, my ass. That’s where it really belongs. Get right inside my asshole.”

Your hand goes for the bottle of lube that she’s just retrieved from the bedside, but you don't uncap it yet, as you watch Yeseo rub that perfect ass along your erection. "Wait. Got a better idea."

Her head tilts, confused about what could be possibly better than this offer put on the table. But this girl’s body, the body of a literal model, you want to savor it all. With an ass like that, how could you not? You want to get even closer to appreciate it, pulling Yeseo onto the bed, hoping she gets the message. At first, she keeps this questioning look on her face—but when she figures out where you're headed with this, her expression brightens.

She shuffles around to follow where you guide her, getting on all fours while facing the headboard, so that delicious ass raises toward you, those delectable curves all at your disposal.

"Perfect,” you say to yourself, voice trailing off as you grab at her waist and position her just the way you'd like, admiring her full body on display, and fuck, that ass is unreal.

And then you stuff your face right in those cheeks. Yeseo laughs in delight, wiggling around just for your sake, making sure every inch is captured by your attention. You get two large handfuls—spreading her ass wide so you can have an unobstructed view, and that's when you dive right in and dip your tongue inside her puckered hole.

A sound of pure filth comes out of Yeseo right away, all broken and uninhibited. "Oh my god—"

With Yeseo's approval, you keep the tip of your tongue swirling, flicking around, coating her asshole with as much drool as possible as she starts moaning uncontrollably at your immediate assault, trying to adjust to these intense sensations.

"And now you're eating my ass? You really are so full of surprises."

"Do you really expect me not to?" you question back, as your mouth gets entirely preoccupied by lapping at her tight hole, slurping greedily and teasing around. Your licks only get sloppier each time you dip your tongue in deeper, more focused on pleasing her than keeping any kind of composure, eating her ass without restraint.

She grinds up against your face to praise your work, and it's all the encouragement you need, a palm on either side of her ass, spreading her hole wide—your tongue practically fucking her, devouring her tight little asshole so ravenously, slipping further and further inside.

"F-fuck, baby, that tongue feels so good. Is this my reward for getting you to skip work?" Yeseo asks, half groan, half giggle as you work this sensitive area in ways that get the most obscene sounds pouring from her lips. She groans in absolute delight while your saliva flows freely down into her puckered hole, her cheeks surrounding your face, an absolute meal that has her scrambling for the bed sheets.

"I'll quit my job tomorrow if I get to eat this fucking ass every single day," you utter through sloppy licks and frantic slurps, words all muffled, not letting up in the slightest from licking Yeseo open. The whimpers that slip through, and these shallow, shaky breaths, that’s all you care about, when this tight ring of flesh clenches harshly against your probing tongue.

“Just wait till you have this ass milking you dry for everything that dick's got," Yeseo says, a promise with a loud sigh, falling apart under your attentive, merciless mouth as you greedily tonguefuck her asshole, holding her nice and still. You could just about take her up on that, but you haven’t quite had your fill—not yet.

So you keep those whimpers going, holding Yeseo in place as you continue to flick your tongue out in quick little strokes, licking her right where she's most sensitive. It's fucking perfect, how she helps spreads those asscheeks wide for you—like she can't get enough either, that twitching hole tightening each time it meets your tongue, tensing under your mouth, begging to stay filled.

"God, y-you're so good at that," she gasps, arching that cute ass up higher, holding herself open even further when it's clear there's more pleasure than she can keep up with. There's this urgency in her voice, so impatient and eager—it drives you absolutely wild.

But despite your selfish intentions to bury your tongue in Yeseo’s perfect ass forever, you can't ignore the persistent throbs your cock makes against the mattress—aching for relief, and you've got the perfect place for it to go.

When you pull back for air, you want nothing more than to shove your face back into those squishy cheeks—but the aching between your legs has other plans. You sit up on your knees, and admire all of Yeseo bent forward, presented like a meal, no question to where you're putting your stiff cock when you pop open that clear bottle.

Now you’re in for the main event, but you can't help but give her delectable ass a smack, both hands grabbing those thick asscheeks. You take your time to spread the slick liquid around her rear entrance, and it makes all the anticipation almost unbearable as you work a finger inside that tight ring of muscle. She eases up to swallow you in, letting you test the warm, snug tightness bound to accommodate your cock that’s going to feel like heaven.

"Fuck, your cock is going to stretch out my ass so much… so much better than that toy you saw me fucking." While you continue to prep her, Yeseo lets out the sweetest little sounds, relaxing almost instantly at your slick finger working its way inside, like she's done this more times than she can count.

"Yeah? Want me to ruin your pretty little asshole with this fucking cock?" And it's like her muscles know exactly what to do to hold you right in, hugging your digit, so you can barely contain yourself through this tight preview, thinking of how it'll feel clenching around your length.

“Do you even have to ask?”

Yeseo’s cute little smile when she looks back gets all the blood pumping toward your throbbing hardness as you stroke the lube into your shaft, getting yourself nice and slick before aiming yourself right between her asscheeks. "Don't you worry, I'm fucking you until you can't walk straight."

Then, there's nothing else to do but slide your cock into her slicked up, eager hole. Slowly at first, as Yeseo braces for it—her eyes demanding every inch when you ease into the delicious, tight heat of her ass.

“My fucking god, baby—this ass is so much tighter than I ever imagined," you groan with a sharp breath, clutching her shapely hips while you rest your cock fully sheathed inside, not daring to move. You're not even sure if you can pull back out, completely overwhelmed at just how intense this grip is, and when you look down to see it all disappear—god, it's maddening.

Nearly doubling over from pleasure, all rational thought gets driven out with that tight warmth gripping your cock so hard it steals your breath away.

"Are you going to fuck my ass or just stare at it?" Yeseo asks, and you're tempted to do the latter, but she jerks her body backward to jumpstart the whole thing. When you pull out in one fluid motion, you have to stop for a second to admire her slick little hole stretching around the thickness of your shaft, before you slam back into the hilt.

It takes little time for your cock to stretch that greedy asshole out as Yeseo welcomes in each thrust working her open, your hips making her cheeks jiggle when they meet. Looking back, she grins with bliss, a groan accompanying every pump as she adjusts to your size, inviting your cock into her ass with a perfect arch of her back. "Come on—show me how much you really love this ass, give me everything you’ve got.”

Just like that, your hips get rougher. Yeseo welcomes this stretch that stuffs her so full, deeper each time your shaft pounds into her tightest opening, lost in lust while she clutches at the sheets, nails digging in for dear life.

"There you go, baby, give me that fucking cock,“ she pleads with each snap of your hips, her ass crashing against you. So the rougher you get, the more she whines out for more—this sweet little innocent thing reduced to absolute sin, nothing but curses and groans leaving her parted lips.

And while you watch her delicious ass swallow up all that hard cock, you can't help but smack it, greedily grabbing a handful of flesh before letting your palm fly again, marking up both pale cheeks with these beautiful red handprints. Hard, repeatedly, every harsh impact jostles those reddened cheeks as she takes your rapid thrusts into that impossibly tight asshole, clenching around after each smack to the sore flesh.

"Make it hurt, make my ass fucking sting, please," she demands so desperately, and it only takes a few more harsh slaps to leave her completely incoherent.

You pound into Yeseo with such reckless abandon until your carnal desires take over. Those tender cheeks bounce hypnotically, the rhythm of your hips in sync with every single slap across the delicate flesh. “Baby—fuck, this ass feels incredible. Makes my cock feel so goddamn good.” You're relentless—not just because you can’t help yourself, but because she can’t stop letting out the most pathetic little whimpers that cry for more.

Your pace picks right up, so frantic, each slam deep enough to send those soft cheeks rippling, every last thrust filling her up so nicely. What’s even better is the beautiful red tint spreading across that backside, and the delicious sound of your palm hitting flesh—again, and again, and again.

"Ah—fuck, shit, right there, oh my fucking god—" It's impossible to stop looking at this wrecked little hole as Yeseo takes your dick without mercy, earning every bit of the relentless stretch she begs for. Your vigorous thrusts get you so worked up, that you pull out and spread that reddened ass just to savor the view, gaping so beautifully and desperate to get full again—

Yeseo practically sobs when you shove your hard cock all the way back in balls fucking deep, which makes her bite down on the sheets, as if there's anything that'll muffle her screams when you're fucking her this hard.

"So good, so fucking good, your cock is fucking perfect and I don't ever want it to leave my ass," Yeseo cries out into the mattress, not making the slightest attempt to remain composed anymore. The poor bed absorbs every creak and slam, the whole frame shaking under your forceful thrusts that threaten to collapse the whole thing.

And Yeseo is right there, telling you how fucking good your cock is, that small body all yours to use how you please. Without hesitation, you keep giving her what she wants, keep giving this tight little asshole the pummeling it deserves—just listening to the squeal in her voice as you pound her the way that she absolutely desires it.

So there's no reason to stop when she's clearly aching for more, unable to get enough of how easily your cock tears her to pieces with every single thrust. All she can do is brace for the next one when your shaft hits so fucking deep—and then you crash down all your weight on top of her tiny frame, pinning her flat against the bed. so your cock somehow plunges even deeper into her asshole.

“F-fuck!” You reach such depths Yeseo could never hit with any toy, and she takes it all, face down, with unwavering lust that powers the motions of your hips until it's a struggle for either of you to think straight.

"Baby, this ass—I'd ruin my whole fucking career for this ass," you pant out through uneven breaths, continuing the dizzying pace that has no right feeling this good, pumping into her with every last thing you’ve got until it all becomes a blur.

Yeseo, she’s clenching so fucking tight that each thrust might be your last, your hips every bit merciless, crashing against the soft flesh of her perfect ass to gather up the most desperate cries.

"Fuck, that’s just what I want, so deep inside me,“ she struggles to say, downright delirious, and you're not far off, unsure how much more you can take of this, your balls feeling so tight as you pound and pound into that warm hole. In fact, you can tell there's no sense in even holding it in at this point, gathering up that final bit of momentum, making every single thrust count before you feel that release boiling up—

At the last possible second you pull out, eyes focused intently on her ruined little asshole that gapes so perfectly before Yeseo follows you off the bed and onto the floor. She drops to her knees, back against the side of the mattress and stares expectantly, while you aim inches away toward her beautiful, sweat-covered face, furiously stroking.

Your hand tangles up in her hair, giving a hard tug that forces her chin up. It's not the pleasure that brings you closer to the brink, it's the sight of her doe-eyed stare, all this innocence and sin rolled together that begs for your load without saying a word.

Yeseo gazes up with her lips open, tongue lolling out, so beautifully obedient, waiting for you to unload. "Go on, baby—fucking explode all over this pretty fucking face," Yeseo urges, and it's the way she looks at you, that mesmerizing, seductive eye contact that you can’t take it any longer.

In an instant, your release hits, with all this built-up tension that just empties out with a huge shot of your load streaking across the bridge of her nose, coating those cute cheeks. Yeseo doesn't even flinch as it splatters across her features, hot and thick, all the way up to her forehead, eyes so bright with this lewd, shameless gaze as you glaze her.

You spill everything from your balls like you’ve gone weeks without release, groaning as you shoot more massive streaks everywhere, even some getting caught in her lashes. This thick trail drips down to her lips as she just opens her mouth and lets it fall onto her hungry little tongue, a taste she’s been dying for.

She’s never looked so good.

After the last drop hits her mouth, it's already dripping down her chin, this pretty, porcelain skin painted so vividly. Yeseo’s a gorgeous mess, and you keep these weak pumps going, pumping it all out to ensure she’s covered as can be before her tongue collects your load settling around her messy lips, returning back to that cum-stained smile.

"So fucking good, you taste even better than I thought.”

And then you nearly topple over when she sucks at the tip until you're cleaned off, making sure every drop is drained. Yeseo holds your hips to keep you still, lips tight around your sensitive cockhead, looking so goddamn gorgeous with your load all over that face.

“Jesus, fuck—“ you say, feeling lightheaded, the impact of your orgasm still hitting like a train. Yeseo just smiles through it all, such a perfect image that you'll never get out of your head.

The bed beside you has never looked so welcoming, and while you recover, you hear a click and shuffling next to you. But you know what it is by this point, a new set of pictures with Yeseo’s face fucking glazed, ready to be sent to whoever wants to pad her bank account.

"I feel like I should get a cut now," you say with a tired smile, trying to catch your breath.

"Pounding my ass like that wasn't payment enough?" Yeseo fires back, but her tone is all soft and sweet as she saunters over, so much energy left in that perfect body compared to your spent state. "It's not my fault you cum so much..."

"Isn't it exactly that? Weren't you begging me to cum inside you the first time?"

"I think I liked you better when you were shy." Yeseo sticks her tongue out and giggles, disappearing into the bathroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up. And take more pictures while I'm at it."

By the time Yeseo returns from the bathroom, you're about ready to pass out, having fallen onto the pillows in total exhaustion. When your eyes open back up, she's inches away from your face, looking all clean and barefaced. "Are you really falling asleep like that without me?"

"You wore me out."

"I did what?” she asks incredulously, head tilted in confusion. “You're the one who fucked me senseless. I can still feel how sore my ass is when I sit down..."

"Hey, you asked for that. Also like…twenty other things."

"Guilty. Guess I’m a little greedy.”

With a content sigh, Yeseo throws an arm and leg over, cuddling up right against you. You're too tired to even move, while this bubbly girl seems she could go the rest of the night. But maybe you're not entirely worn out as her perfect little body presses up against your chest, those sweet lips pouting, looking so irresistibly delicious. And before you fall asleep, you need to have just one more taste of those lips.

#kpop smut #yeseo smut #kep1er smut #girl group smut #reader insert #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction #yeseo x reader

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