#im gripping the chair trying to control myself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brattyfork · 1 year ago

Note

can you write a matt smut that starts out as reader cockwarming him while he plays his game and he loses and moves around and reader moans from it and it continues from there?

good luck charm

summary: matt’s been playing video games for too long, you get bored

warnings: cockwarming, soft dom/daddy matt, humiliation if u look close enough

somewhat inspired by @somethingheavenknows “gaming chair”

“matttyyyy” i whined “im bored”

my boyfriend had been playing fortnite for hours, no exaggeration, and i needed attention.

normally i had no issue with him playing video games, it gave me a chance to just hang out in his bed and go on my phone, occasionally color or play a game myself. but ever since “og fortnite” came back, he was always on his pc.

“wanna come sit on my lap?”

i groaned but it was better than nothing, then i got an idea. i slipped off my sweatpants i was wearing and unclasped my bra, pulling it through my sleeve. this left me in matt’s pink hershey bear tee and some black lace panties.

i walked over to him, sliding my hand on his shoulder and arm before he looked at me, quickly turning his attention back to the game. then, just as quickly, he looked back at me, his eyes going from my face, to my chest, then my thighs and back up again. i gave him an innocent smile and he smirked in return. matt patted his lap. i obeyed, awkwardly climbing over him and adjusting myself until i was comfy.

“better?” he asked genuinely.

“a little” he gave me a sweet kiss before i nuzzled (xD) my head into his neck, his scent filled up my lungs, intoxicating me.

after another ten minutes, i got bored again, short attention span i guess. i lifted my head slightly, so i was level with his ear, and pulled off the headphone covering it.

“can i give you a hickey daddy?”

he put his headphone back over his ear, which i assumed meant no. i rested back where i had been, trying to hide my disappointment.

“hey guys, i’ll keep playing but i don’t wanna be on call anymore, you’re too loud” i smiled, hearing the guys on the other side protesting.

“bye guys” he said, taking off his headset and unplugging it.

“you wanna mark me baby? make sure everyone knows i’m yours?”

“yes daddy” i whispered into his ear. i could feel him hardening under me.

“go ahead my love”

as soon as matt gave me the green light i began placing kisses all along his neck, making him chuckle lightly. i picked a spot everyone could see and began sucking my mark into him. i could feel him getting harder by the second, only amping me up more. i wanted more, i needed more.

i ground down into him, pulling a groan from him before he moved one of his hands from the controller to my hip and squeezing. hard.

“you gotta stay still baby”

“i need more daddy please”

he was quiet for a second, thinking of ways we could both get what we want. a smile crept up on his face.

“you wanna be my cockwarmer?”

i pulled back, a smile forming on my face while i nodded. he already knew the answer, seeing as it was one of my favorite things to do.

“words princess”

“yes, want you inside me daddy”

he gave me a quick kiss before placing his controller on the desk in front of him. he smacked my ass lightly, his way of telling me to sit up so he could pull his sweats and boxers down. he moved my panties to the side, feeling how wet i was in the process.

“aw my poor baby, you’re soaked” he teased.

i just whined, pulling him into a kiss as he used my arousal to slick up his cock. he lined himself up, pressing my thighs and making me sink down on him. i tried to pull away from the kiss to let my moans out but he bit my lip and swallowed my noises.

once i had bottomed out, matt pulled away from the kiss and brought his hand up to my face. he had such a hard grip on my face that i couldn’t look anywhere but him.

“wanna play a game baby?”

i looked at him confused, pouting a bit because i did not want to play video games.

“you’ll like it i promise” he smiled, staring into my eyes. “i’m gonna play another round with the guys, you’re going to sit here and be a good cockwarmer” i frowned. as much as i loved cockwarming him, i needed more, i just wanted him to fuck me already.

“and if you’re a good cockwarmer, which means no moving, no sounds, no clenching, then daddy’ll fuck you however you want.”

i perked up, my eyes meeting his again. i smiled and nodded, this was gonna be fun.

“i’m gonna get back on the call, you’re gonna be silent. you wouldn’t want everyone hearing your sweet noises” i might actually want that.

“or maybe you do, maybe you want everyone to know what a little slut you are for daddy” fuck, he can read my mind.

i nestled my head in his neck again, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“either way, you’re going to be silent, be good for daddy. understood?”

“i understand daddy” i squeaked out, knowing he would want verbal confirmation. “my smart little girl” i smiled at the praise.

i let out a big sigh, getting as comfortable as i could while matt opened the discord (LMFAO) app on his phone and hopped on the channel with everyone.

“hey i’m back” he said, placing his phone on the desk and grabbing his controller.

“why?” someone whose voice i didn’t recognize asked.

“i got bored” lie

“what about y/n?” i tensed up when i heard nick say my name.

“she’s good” he placed a kiss on my cheek, letting me know i was doing well, “she’s zoned out on tiktok” another lie

i held back a giggle, amused by his very blatant lies.

it had been about twenty minutes and if we’re being honest i was a mess. i was basically drooling all over matt’s shirt but i was being good. i hadn’t moved or clenched and i stayed silent. it was hard but i just focused on how good it would be when he finally fucked me.

at one point, matt started button mashing, tensing his cock inside me. out of instinct and desperate to not make any noise, i bit down on his shoulder. i expected some reprimand from him but he said nothing. i decided that might be a good way to distract myself.

i started slowly placing wet kisses down his neck and shoulder, seeing if he would stop me. he didn’t though, he kept playing his game, making small talk with his friends. i began sucking small hickies into his shoulder and neck, his tank top allowing me access to more skin. it was a good coping mechanism, until they lost.

“damnit chris!” matt shouted, the other guys making similar remarks. in his anger, he pushed up into me, making me bite down on his shoulder again to hold back any noise.

matt leaned forward and ended the call, leaving his controller next to his phone.

“‘m sorry daddy” i felt bad, tears filled my lash line at the thought of him being mad at me.

“it’s okay angel, it’s not your fault i lost, if anything you helped, my little good luck charm” he rubbed my back, giving me a kiss on my head, still buried in his neck.

matt pulled my head back, cupping my face in his hands. he looked into my eyes and must’ve saw the tears because his expression dropped.

“hey, hey baby, don’t cry. are you okay?”

“jus don’t want you to be mad at me”

he pulled me into a sweet short kiss before disconnecting out lips and pressing his forehead against mine.

“daddy’s not mad sweetheart, you were so good for me” i could hear the relief in his voice, knowing i wasn’t hurt.

“and because you were so good, daddy’s gonna fuck you however you want. you still want that baby?”

i nodded frantically, him stilling my movements by kissing me. matt stood up, holding right underneath my ass. i gasped into the kiss, which was muffled in his lips. matt kept kissing me, fighting to explore my mouth with his tongue. there was no need though, i parted my lips, letting him in with no resistance from me. he kicked his bottoms off and placed me on the bed, hovering over me. he moved his kisses down my neck, nipping at my skin.

“how do you want me to fuck you angel?”

i honestly hadn’t thought about it, despite how much time i had, but the feeling of his weight on top of me, the thought of our chests pressed together and being able to watch his face contort in pleasure made the choice easy.

“fuck, like this daddy please, wanna see you” i grabbed at his shirt, pulling it up his torso as much as i could before he yanked it over his head.

matt pulled my shirt up and lifted it gently over my head, careful not to get it stuck on my nose or ears. i blushed at the simple gesture, he was always so gentle with me, even when he wanted to ruin me, matt made sure i was comfortable.

he finally began thrusting into me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. i was getting the pleasure i had been craving for the last hour, and it was incredible.

“god you feel so good baby, so warm and tight” his words drove me crazy and he knew it.

i could feel my orgasm approaching quickly, matt’s deep thrusts becoming too much.

“daddy, ‘m close” i whined.

“gonna cum already baby? is daddy making you feel that good?”

“yes fuck feels so good”

“let go for me princess, be a good girl and cum on my cock” he sped up his thrusts.

i let out a moan that could almost be classified as a scream as matt fucked me through my high. but i quickly realized, he wasn’t stopping.

“daddy! s’too much” i yelled, clawing my nails down his back and along his arms.

“you can take it baby, you’re gonna cum one more time for me okay? whenever you’re ready”

i let out the most pathetic, lewd noises known to man as matt ruthlessly pounded into me. the only term to describe it was euphoric, i was seeing stars every time i closed my eyes. i could feel my orgasm creeping up on me again, i wanted to warn matt but i couldn’t form a sentence. i babbled at him, parts of words coming out between whines and moans.

“close again angel?” i just whimpered at him, hoping he’d know what i meant.

“go on baby, i wanna feel you clench around me then daddy’ll fill you with his cum” he whispered into my ear, speeding up his thrusts even more if possible. i needed him to cum inside me, i felt like i’d die if i didn’t feel him fill me up.

“please” i managed to squeak out.

i let out a loud cry before matt placed his lips on mine, absorbing any noise i made. as soon as i came, i felt his hot cum coating my walls. he fucked me through both of our orgasms before collapsing on top of me. it was the most incredible feeling i’ve ever experienced, i felt like i was floating, despite his weight on top of me.

matt propped himself up on his elbows and began peppering my face with kisses. i giggled, pulling my hands up to my face to try and cover it. he grabbed my wrists moving them away and placed a passionate kiss to my lips. it was the kind of kiss that says ‘i love you, i cherish you’ without any words. matt pulled away.

“you okay my love?” he asked, finally pulling out of me. i felt so empty without him, it was such a strange feeling.

“mhm” i nodded.

“you wanna take a nap?”

“yes please”

matt began to pull out of me but i wrapped my legs around him, my feet kicking his butt. (lol) he looked at me confused.

“can you stay inside me?” i looked up at him, making the best puppy eyes i could. the thought of him pulling out, not being filled by him, honestly made me sad.

“are you sure baby?” he knew i liked cockwarming but not this much.

“please, i feel so full, it feels so fucking good” he giggled at me, kissing all over my face again.

“do you know how much i love you?” he placed a kiss on my forehead, “how cute you are?” a kiss on my nose, “how goddamn sexy you are?” finally kissing my lips.

“i think i have an idea”

#sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

Note

omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)

hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)

seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.

cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]

You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.

Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.

Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--

But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.

And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.

You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.

“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.

Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--

“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”

Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.

Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--

The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.

It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.

You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--

(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)

But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.

You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.

Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;

“I want to go outside.”

If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.

“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“Kai—”

“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.

“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.

You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.

He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.

“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”

“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”

“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.

In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--

His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.

“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.

“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”

Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.

“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”

Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.

“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”

You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.

“If you fight,” he tells you, “I��ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”

You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.

After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.

What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.

“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.

You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.

“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”

His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.

“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”

“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;

“Spread your legs.”

You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--

“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.

You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.

“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”

“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”

He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.

“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”

You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.

He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.

“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”

He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.

He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.

You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.

Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.

“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.

A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.

He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.

Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--

And he pulls his fingers out of you.

The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.

“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”

No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.

“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”

He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.

The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.

There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--

He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.

And a third.

And a fourth.

“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.

“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”

You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;

“O-Overhaul, please--”

Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).

Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.

But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.

You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.

A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.

You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.

A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.

He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;

“Feel better?”

No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--

“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.

Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?

“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”

You think of his earlier words.

‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’

You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--

“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”

You think he might be the sick one.

#overhaul x reader #yandere overhaul #overhaul smut #overhaul x you #chisaki kai x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #dark content for ts #5555 event fic #not sfw text #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #misogyny for ts #bnha posting #medical kink for ts #non consent for ts #dub con for ts #non con for ts

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technowoah · 4 years ago

Text

Forever Was a Long Time Ago

Where you and Clay find yourselves caught up in someone elses lies.

- ANON REQUESTED!

- FEM READER!

Prompts!

4) "I never fucking wanted this/that!"

16) "Stop bringing it up"

⚠︎ toxic relationship, swearing, mentions of sex (?), and horrible writing. I didn't proofread either

It was hard to not talk to him, but that was your decision at the moment. You didnt even tell him what was the matter, and you refused to until you found out your real feelings about where you lie. Right now you were mad, fuming, of course you were refusing to talk to him because he dosen't talk to you.

The reason why the distance between you and Clay grew further and further apart was that a stupid tweet from this girl. He knew what he wae doing too, it was like him to do this behind the scenes. It was a tweet that showed him at a dinner table with another person other than you across the table from him. At least they had the decency to exclude his face from the frame, but the hands, and clothes were something you were all used to. The tweet continued on and on, and you believed every word.

He knew what he was doing. He did this often, because jealousy was a big thing in your relationship. You can admit it isnt all just him too, it was a possesive relationship. It wasn't healthy at all and you knew it. Your friends and family knew too, but you two always found yourself in his arms.

Clay liked to toy with you, but this was taking it too far. You ended up messaging the creator of the tweet and they said that everything was true and they went into extreme detail too. They even brought up screenshots of messages that you would deem fake. If it wasn't for your rage right, you would've debunked that right away.

Wallowing in your anger was a common thing for both of you in the relationship. The first time this happend was at a small party Clay invited you to. He ended up flirting and paying all of his attention to another person just to get you jealous. It started off innocent to make something more out of nothing, but became worse with time. You started to do the same to him and vice versa, it became a habit more than a thing to make eachother horny for a night.

The jealousy thing became more of a guilty pleasure, and the guilty pleasure became cheating. For you two it was okay because you two were going back to eachother, it was okay until now. Now a person was rubbing it in your face, usually it was a quick night without eachother, ignoring one another for a week and then getting back together until the cycle completes again.

It was emotionally tiring but you couldn't break out of it, maybe this was a sign to stop.

Today marks a week and a half with no contact with Clay. You had locked yourself up in your home today, you couldn't bother to do anything productive today. It was just one of those days, and it was a day where you wondered if Clay would text or call you. You shamelessly watched his livestreams, you missed his voice, his touch, his whole being. You wondered if his friends were saying the same stuff about you your friends were saying about him.

You were a puppet. You fell everytime his hands weren't pulling the strings and right now you wouldn't be under his control. You refused this time.

Speaking of the devil, your phone chimed signaling that you have received a message. You had opened it and it was one of many extremely vauge texts from Clay.

( Clay )

Im coming over now

[read]

Not bothering to text back, you continued to pay attention to something else. You were ready to confrony him and put an end to this.

It was a few minuted before you heard the lock on your door being unlocked and a voice calling for you.

"You home?!"

"In the living room!"

He reached the living room and sat in a smaller chair to your right. You two sat in silence until you worked up to courage to speak.

"Why are you here?" You asked him breaking the silence.

"Why did you let me in here?" Clay retorted.

"I mean, it's not like you just invited yourself in. You had to have something to say."

"Not necessarily, can I just visit my girl?" Clay leaned back into his seat.

"Yeah you can, but I wouldn't consider myself your girlfriend." You sat up and croseed your arms. Your phone was to your side waiting to show him the evidence.

"Really? What is this, the 5th time you've said that?" Clay rolled his eyes in response.

"You've done the same thing more time than I could count. You have no right to talk."

"I have absolutely every right." Clay smirked. He knew he was getting under your skin.

"So, Why did you go out with that girl?" You asked bluntly.

"Why wouldn't I? I mean it isnt a big deal we're here now."

"To me it is a big deal!"

"It never fucking was before when you were seeing another guy!" Clay yelled sitting up.

"I never fucking wanted this?! I never wanted to see you with a different guy, but here we are!"

"I didn't fucking start this whole cheating rabbit hole thing!" You flared your arms.

"What I saw was that you were talking with that girl for a while! It was months."

"What?!"

You had brought out your phone and pulled up the messages and extended your arm to give him your phone to read. He had taken the phone out of your hand with a confused face on his face. You waited while he scrolled through text messages while an emotion you couldn't read was on his face.

"Would you be mad if I said it was all true?" Clay had this look of caution on his face.

"YES! I fucking would!" You exclaimed in disbelief.

"I still dont know why?"

You stood up wanting to let off some steam. "This is what we do! Dont you see?! We keep going in circles. I go out with a man, and you get mad. You go out with a girl and I get mad, we come back together, but a whole month?!"

"Does it matter?!" Clay stood up too.

"Yes!"

"Remember when-"

"No! We're talking about YOU right now and how this little fling started a month ago. If you loved her that much stay!"

"Remember when you spent two nights over that boys house and-"

"Stop bringing it up!" You interrupted him.

"Then you stop trying to act like you're a saint!"

Pausing for a moment you wanted to get out of this situation. Clearly this argument wasn't getting anywhere or heading to the right place, your body temperature was hot, you needed to clear your head.

You tried walking away, but Clay held you there. "I dont "love" her I never-!"

"You stayed consistent with her more than me!"

"Stop acting like you're such a angel! Acting like you haven't dont the same too!"

"Not for that long! Get that through your head!" You tried walking away again, but he had a grip on you wrist.

You glared at him, staring right into his eyes, his grip getting slightly tighter wanting to make you stay.

"Let me go."

He froze at that and stood still. After sll this time of you two being together, you have never said those words. They had multiple meanings at this moments. One being "let me go physically" and the other being "let me go so I can move on." You had meant both.

"You mean it?"

"What do you think I mean?" You asked, his grip on your wrist stayed there as you awaited his answer.

He paused for a moment and then he started to speak. "You want to leave this relationship. That's what I believe."

"Well. You are right. Clay I'm tired. You know that!"

His grip on your wrist loosened. He was giving you an opening to leave and you took it. You took that opening and when your hand left his you two were done with eachother. The confrontation was quick, it usually was like this, today you just wanted it to be over. You grabbed your keys and a coat from the coat rack needing some fresh air

"You need to leave my house by the time I get back. Okay?" You turned around to see Clay in the same spot you left him in. He nodded and you slipped on your shoes and left the house for the night.

The windows of your car were rolled down as you rode through the streets not having a destination in mind. It was clear to you, a weight lifted from your shoulders and a new opening was near, but you couldn't see it yet.

You could breathe now, nothing else mattered. You had stopped at a red light and you phone continued to light up. There was not that many drivers on the road at this hour, so you opened the phone to a string of messages.

( Clay )

She lied

I was trying to tell you, but you lashed out, but I understand

I'll focus on you I promise. I wont break promises anymore.

Come back

[read]

You sighed looking at the messages and a wave of guilt washed over you. You had found a place to turn your car around and drive back to your house where he was waiting for you against your wishes.

The circle was completed once more.

#mcyt blurb #dream x reader #mcyt angst #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanons #dream x y/n #dream angst #dream blurb #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #dream smp x reader #mcyt requests #requested

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Searing Starlight (chapter two)

A/n Chapter twooo!! I cannot believe the support I’ve been getting on here im so excited to share my six of crows/shadow and bone fics with y’all!

Lmk if you’d like to be tagged when I update this story!! And just letting y’all know I take requests so if you have an idea you’d like to see me attempt feel free to comment it or send it in :))

At least Kaz’s claimed ‘wraith’ (which is such an odd thing to just have) is a girl, and a seemingly kind one at that. She was quick to find me, body pressed into wooden shelves and glass bottles, and subtly gesture for me to follow her. It had been difficult to keep track of her flighty form through the crowd, but I think there was a point in her strange raveling, to make sure no one was following me.

She’s not particularly talkative, but she doesn’t seem bothered by me. She tossed me a random oversized shirt to pull over my dress when she saw how I kept adjusting the fabric and crossing my arms. That was kinder than she needed to be. I think I’ll like her.

“So you’re a wraith,” I manage, breaking the nervous silence, “Like a full time, constantly on-call wraith.”

The question seems to puzzle her, dark eyebrows drawing together. “Yes.” The corner of her mouth twitches up slightly, a smile. “A full time, constantly on-call wraith.” She hesitates, perfect stance adjusting. “What were you doing before?”

Great. This question. “Nothing important.” It’s not a fair cop-out. Especially since she answered my question. “I um...I’m indentured to Rollan Kenya.”

I watch her reaction to the name. Some know of him. Some revere him. Some loathe him and everything he’s associated with. “His religious interpretations are controversial.”

“If you think what he says to the public is bad you should hear what he says in private.” I push myself further into the chair I’m in.

Something strange flickers over her features. “I can imagine.”

Shaking my head, I hope I’m ending this conversation. “What’s your name?”

A hesitation. “Inej.”

I nod once, “I’m y/n.”

“Do you need water, y/n?”

I scratch my still exposed knee. “That’d be nice. Thank you.”

She’s quick to leave, feet making no noise. A minute later she returns with a cup. I have no reason to suspect her, but I still sniff the cup before taking a cautious sip. I wonder if Anya made it back home. I wonder if she’s worse off for it.

Before I can fall into a pit of debating despair, the door to the room Inej took me to squeaks open. On instinct, I snap my gaze towards the door, tensing. The first person I notice is Kaz, entering the room with a determination too intense for this time of night. Jesper is quick to follow, and I drop my stare. I’ve never had to interact with anyone I’ve lied to after taking their money.

“Are they gone?” Inej asks, clearly accustomed to such brooding tension.

Kaz nods once, “It took too much convincing--the Inferni’s more than she’s letting on.”

I’m literally in the room. “I’m not--we’ve spoken two words to each other, sorry my abilities didn’t come up.”

He turns towards me with a deadly grace. My grip on the cup tightens. What the hell is wrong for me? How deeply instilled is that god complex Kenya wanted in me? It must be as part of me as my name if I felt comfortable enough to speak that way to Kaz Brekker.

I keep my eyes on his cane, waiting for some kind of physical retaliation. “Maybe the grisha hunting you would appreciate your sense of humor more.”

It’s a bluff. He needs me. He’s desperate for something that can mimic a Sun Summoner. Still though, I’m not in the mood to poke a bear with a stick. “Speaking from experience,” I clear my throat awkwardly, “They tend not to.”

“Then I suggest you begin explaining before I decide I’d rather take my chances and you lose your worth.”

Maybe if I hadn’t spent the last eleven years of my life with Kenya, his words would haunt me. I keep my expression set, but the lanterns in the room flicker. “It’s not as impressive as they’re making it seem--Inferni can produce fire, regular, red, bright fire.” I pause, feeling energy in my palms. “I can do the same, but I can also,” I extend a flat palm, “Do this.”

I focus my energy on restraint, forcing the fire on my skin to remain there, covering my palms in a cold, blue glow. “It’s still fire, just blue--and that matters to them because blue light is the only kind you can use in the Fold.” Do they know anything about the fold? “Kenya, the man I’m indentured to, believes that this ability makes me eligible for Sainthood. He specializes in collecting people he thinks are eligible for Sainthood.” The low flame coating my palm licks upwards as I remember what disappointing Kenya means. “And if you don’t meet his standards, he’ll find a way to make sure you do. That’s why the grisha want me. He made me more and they believe that if they give me to someone who can give me an amplifier I’ll be able to produce enough blue light to protect an entire fleet.”

“What do you mean ‘he’ll find a way to make sure you do’?” Inej’s voice is cautious. An attempt to be respectful.

I drop my palm, letting the fire disappear into nothingness. “I wasn’t born with the ability to control the blue light so well--It’s difficult enough to produce for longer than two seconds let alone keep it from burning everything in sight. By the time I ended up in Kenya’s control he had learned that certain stimulants. Some scientists are working on a more grisha-targeted kind, but Kenya has managed to work with the generic well enough.” Hands shaking, I wipe the condensation off the side of the cup and hold out my wrist. Using the condensation, I begin to wipe at my wrist and forearm, smearing my makeup and revealing the needle bruises. “The key is withdrawals.”

Thoughts of begging Kenya, crying and screaming for another fix as he promised to give me that as soon as I showed some control of my abilities, make the shaking in my hand worse. I clasp my hands together, squeezing them in hopes of hiding the signs of withdrawal.

I stare at the ground, not wanting to take anyone’s reaction in. I handle pity as well as I handle kindness.

“Do you think you could produce enough blue light for one ship?”

Looking up, I take in Kaz’s measured expression. I’m glad he’s sticking to business. I’d rather that than deal with unpacking all of that with a group of strangers that don’t care if I live or die.

“I could try.” I’ve never tried to protect anything that large. “Even if I can, it doesn’t mean a voyage like that will be safe.”

“There’s no real safety in the Fold,” he replies easily. Realistic expectations. That will make this easier. “No one finds out about her--especially not Pekka Rollins.”

I pull my arm towards my body, glad for the opportunity to hide the bruises. Signs of my weakness. The worst part was always the way Kenya would speak to me after. Pathetic. Weak. Trapped within the restraints of my flesh.

“Who’s Pekka Rollins?”

Kaz briefly turns his head in my direction. “No one that will ever concern you.” He ignores my annoyed huff. “We’ll use the Inferni to get to Alina Starkov.”

Alina. Alina Starkov. “What do you want with Alina?”

At that, the room seems to drain. I feel weirder than when they were seeing my abilities.

“You know her?” Jesper’s surprise reveals more than Kaz wants him to. I don’t miss the glare he receives.

I half-shrug. “We were in the same orphanage for awhile.”

“How did you get to Ketterdam?” I don’t trust Kaz’s urgency.

“I don’t remember, I was a child and I--I hit my head that night I think. I just woke up and I was with Kenya.”

“How well do you know Alina?”

There was a point in time in which she was my best friend. We learned how to braid hair by practicing on each other, we would draw maps together, and I was the only one who knew about her crush on Mal. “Not that well.”

He takes a step forward, eyes almost squinting. The touch of distrust is evident on his face. “If you’re lying I’ll find out.”

I owe Alina at least this. “Well then it’s a good thing I’m not.”

I’m not naive enough to believe that I’ve convinced him, but his intense gaze does not remain on me. I’m relieved when his attention is off of me, but he’s only moving on to start planning the riskiest thing I’ve ever done.

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black

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mxchellesworld · 4 years ago

Text

Get with me

spencer reid x reader

synopsis; in which you get two sets of news and a happy ending

warnings; mentions of cheating, pregnancy scares, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink (im sorry lmao), praise

pt 2 of ysbuwybf

a/n; patting myself on the back for not bailing on fic requests lmaoo anyways yall were so outa pocket with ideas, all i wanna say is that i am respecting our sweet prince anderson and letting him down gently (i’m writing this before the fic so i could completely switch it up) see end notes for final thoughts :)

hope you enjoy!

*also pls don’t cheat its so icky and a horrible thing to do

***

If your suspicions were correct you were fucked. Part of you would be ecstatic no doubt about it. But if things were true then you were utterly surly fucked.

Your period was late.

Which meant either one; your birth control was acting up or two; you were pregnant.

However being pregnant wasn’t a bad thing, far from it. The bad thing was that there were two candidates in the running to be the father. Your boyfriend, Agent Anderson who was nothing but a sweetheart even though he was about as exciting as a wet paper bag.

Or Dr.Spencer Reid. Your best friend who you had also been sleeping with outside of your relationship. The best man you’d ever known who was also aching to become a father some day.

For a week you had been avoiding both of them in the office. Unfortunately for you there were no cases. While yes a lack of serial killing was always a plus it also meant you were stuck in the same building as them for give or take eight hours a day.

For days on end you stuck in your earbuds and kept your head down while doing paperwork trying to ignore both sets of eyes which would look over to you every once in a while.

Were you even pregnant, was the biggest question. So you had decided that it was time to get your shit together. At lunch on Monday you had made a quick doctors appointment and went on your way. The little old nurse had told you she would call you in a few days with results.

In that time you had gone over every possible scenario or possibility. Who would you tell first? How would you even bring it up? Would Anderson hate you for cheating? Would Spencer be upset that the baby isn’t his? It would be like another JJ situation for him.

The thoughts plagued your mind throughout the week and the more you thought about it the more you thought about who you would have preferred to be the father of your child. Which then led to the guilt of picking and the realization that you in fact would have to break up with Anderson.

If the child did end up being his you would have to make it work, however you knew it was time to come clean and apologize for going behind his back. He deserved to know the truth.

Deep in your thoughts you barley heard your phone ringing. It was now Friday and you weren’t expecting any other calls besides the one from your doctor. You looked around and made sure no one was paying attention before you clicked the green button.

“Hello?”

You heard the voice of the nurse on the line, she sounded almost sad, “Hello am I speaking with Y/n Y/l/n?”

“Yeah this is her,” you said dryly. Your nerves were eating at you.

“Oh sweetie I’m calling with the results of your test. It turns out that you are not pregnant at this time honey.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you held in. It felt as is a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“Oh, um thank you for informing me,” you said looking down at your nails.

“Of course. If you have anymore questions you can call back at this number or come in and set up another appointment. Have a good rest of your day.”

With that the line cut off and you fell back into your chair. Your hand subtly moved onto your stomach. Huh. You didn’t think that would be as hard to hear.

“Y/n?” a voice called from behind you.

“Oh hey Andy. Whats up?” you said putting a smile on your face.

He combed a hand through his hair before he sat at the corner of your desk, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I think it’s best if I say it clearly and honestly.”

Your brows furrowed. Oh shit did he already know? You had to stay calm.

“Yeah go ahead.”

“I think we should break up. It’s not you, I think we’re just missing a spark. At first it was fun but I don’t think this is gonna work anymore.”

Pot meet kettle, you thought.

“Plus I think Charlotte from Cyber Crimes is into me so yeah,” he trailed off.

You bit your lip to try and hide the laugh you wanted to let out. This was an unseen turn of events. “Yeah I get it. But hey no hard feelings. Go for it with Lotte, she’s a total sweetheart.”

“Thanks Y/n/n,” he said leaning down to give you half hug then gingerly turned and walked away.

Behind you Spencer couldn’t help but listen to the whole interaction. Once he saw Anderson reach the elevator he got up and made his way over to your desk.

You looked up and saw the small smile on his face, “Is it party at Y/n’s desk today?” you asked causing him to giggle.

“I think the news I just heard calls for celebration in the best way we know don’t you think,” he said looking around the bullpen nodding his head towards the hallway which was home to the spacious supply closet.

You looked around and made sure no one was looking. Emily and JJ were gone in Garcia’s lair. Derek was gone visiting his mom and the dads of the BAU were in a meeting.

“Lead the way doctor,” you said standing getting up form your chair.

Once in the closet Spencer wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He sighed at the taste of your cherry chapstick. You put your hands on his face pulling him down but while you were savoring the taste of his lips your mind couldn’t help but go back.

You could have been a mom. Spencer felt your lips slow down instead of returning the passion and stepped away.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you said looking up at him.

He tried to hide the look of worry on his features but you could see right through him as he nodded for you to continue.

“Well earlier this week I uh was supposed to start my period but I didn’t,”

“Y/n-” he tried to cut you off but you put your hand up for him to let you finish.

“I went to the doctors and got a test done. Before Anderson came over I got the call and I’m not. Which is good right? It saved everyone a world of hurt and drama. I don’t know I just thought you should know.”

“Did you wanna be?”

“What?”

“Pregnant,” he said gripping your hips and pulling you closer.

You felt your cheeks get hot at what he was insinuating, “Well- I- yeah. I mean yeah, yes.”

With that he brought his lips back down to yours. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. One of his hands slid to the back of your skirt and pulled down the zipper. You let it slide down your legs and stepped out of it.

You sat on the table in the room, pushing off the bottles of cleaner. Spencer stepped into the space between your legs, his fingers reaching for your panties and tugging them down your legs.

“I can’t believe I get this tight little pussy all to myself now,” he said biting marks onto your neck. You mewled tilting your head to the side and pulling on his tie.

“Spencer please. I need you so bad,” you whined out.

He stepped away and hastily started on undoing his pants, “What do you want baby? Is it for me to fuck you? Or is that not enough? Do you need me to fill you up with my cum? Want me to put a baby in you?”

You moaned at his lewd words and quickly nodded your head. Your hand flew down to your pussy, you were practically dripping onto the table and he had barley touched you.

“Please doctor I need you so bad.”

Spencer quickly stepped into the space again and took both of your hands in one of his large ones, “I own this pussy. I always have, you don’t get to touch without my permission,” he gritted out.

With his free hand he tugged on his cock before aligning it with your leaking slit. The both of you sighed as he pushed in inch by inch. Your head feel back with your mouth open in a perfect O shape.

After a second of letting you adjust Spencer started with rough thrusts. You could feel your hair start sticking on your forehead from the heat of the room. Spencer’s lips were inches from yours, sharing the same breath.

“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good. Let everyone here know you’re mine.”

All you could do was nod and moan in approval. His grip on you was deadly but it was just adding onto the immense pleasure you were feeling. The way he was repeatedly hitting your gpot had your vision blurry with stars. You could also feel him pulsing inside you knowing he was close to his peak.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart. So perfect around my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, “I want you to cum in me Spence. I need to feel it,” you mewled into his lips.

This motivated him to start drilling into you. At this point you were panting, aching to feel the sweet release. His hand dipped down to rub on your clit, he groaned at the slippery mess where you both met.

“Oh god Spence!”

A high pitched moan escaped your lips as he added on the extra pleasure. Soon enough you were squeeing around him, ready to milk him for all he was worth.

“That’s it baby. Keep doing that. I’m gonna stuff you with my cum y/n/n fuck,” he said drawing out the last syllable as he exploded inside you.

He stayed inside as you both caught your breathes, slowly thrusting trying to fill you to the brim.

He pulled out and looked for a roll of paper towels for you to clean up. Once that was done you helped each other tame your hair and outfits as you always did, with quiet and loving gazes.

“Do you think that one did the job?” you said with a smirk.

“Well statistically the pill contraceptive has a 7% failure rate so with my calculations there is a chance,” he said while smoothing down your hair.

“Thanks genius,” you said lightly punching his arm, “Lets get out of here. Together.”

“Together,” he said slinging an arm around your shoulders.

a/n; so guys what do we think. im not gonna lie i kinda hate it but i think it was a good ending for everyone. kinda feel bad anderson didn’t get the whole truth but the cheating is OVER! also what did we think of what pregnancy scare?? let me know lovies!!!

#Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #chellewrites

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spencessmile · 4 years ago

Text

Page 143

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary - Spencer finds your journal.

Warnings - Depression, thoughts of suicide, self-harm, mentions of death, & angst.

Please know that you are NEVER alone. There are people who love you. Don't be afraid to ask for help. YOU. ARE. WORTH. IT. I LOVE YOU.

Word Count - 1.3 K

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and/or post it without my consent. Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading!

{Part 1 of 2}

Requests are CLOSED!

When you didn’t answer the door Spencer slid his spare key into the lock, turning the knob, closing the door, and setting the bag of food down on the table, as he switched on the lights.

“Y/n, you home? It’s Spencer,” Nothing. It was quiet.

Spencer knew you were having a rough couple of days so he decided to drop by bringing some rental movies and food; he knew you loved your cheesy rom coms and Thai takeout.

Spencer walked to your bedroom door, pushing it open as he noticed case files were spread across the floor. Your desk night lamp was on, with a half cup of black coffee sitting beside it.

In all the years that Spencer had known you, he definitely realized one thing about you quickly; you were messy. You were not an organized or neat person. You kept things all over the place and it was beyond Spencer’s comprehension, on how you ever found anything.

Spencer maneuvers his way through your mess, as he grasps your blinds, pushing them apart letting in the morning sun as it illuminates the dark colour scheme in the bedroom. He cracks open the window for a breeze.

Spencer sighs, looking around your room. Your go-to bag was stationed beside your bed, where it always is. Your work phone was sitting on your nightstand beside a glass, Spencer raised the glass and a strong dose of whiskey filled his nose. He noticed a pile of clothes besides your closet, which was most likely weeks of unwashed and dirty clothing.

Spencer dug his hand into his jacket pockets, as he stood amongst your disaster, he felt as if your room was staring back at him, yelling ‘clean me’.

Spencer knew you’d be super pissed at him for touching anything of yours. You liked your stuff messy; whether that be your desk space at work, your apartment, your room, or even your life. You didn’t like it when people picked at it.

Spencer couldn’t help it as he shuffled through your room, wrapping your case files and organizing them alphabetically. He grabbed your laundry basket, dropped all your clothes in as he dumped them into the washer, and added a little extra soap. He made his way to your kitchen, putting all your dishes in the dishwasher. Next, Spencer went to turn off your night light but accidentally knocked over a pile of books sitting next to your open laptop.

As he reached down to pick the books up, his eyes glanced over to a small leather book. He slowly reached for it, his hands meet a soft velvet texture. Spencer turned it over to read the words ‘This Is Who I Am’ written in cursive. His eyes moved to the right-hand side where your initials were carved.

This wasn’t a book.

It was your journal.

Spencer didn’t think much of it, he placed it on the side of the desk, reaching for the other books. Once Spencer collected your books, he placed them back on your desk, he quickly turned around but halted his steps as something fell making a loud thud noise. He noticed your journal on the floor again but this time it was opened.

Spencer reached down to pick it up, but he couldn’t help notice it was dated two days ago along with the time.

No, he shouldn’t.

He can’t possibly read what you’ve written in your journal. Those are your thoughts. Thoughts that belonged solely to you. That wasn’t anyone else’s business. Not even his; definitely not his.

He can’t do this.

He couldn’t do this to you.

But the longer Spencer stared at the journal, the urge to read it spread through his body. His eyes already read the first sentence.

The damage was done.

He looked over towards the door and then back down at the journal. He pulled out your chair, turned your nightline on, and began reading.

December 15, 2019 | 4:18 AM |

I can’t walk without wanting to fall apart. Im breaking. I can feel myself falling to pieces; all over again. Nothing is working. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t do this all over again. I barely made it out alive the first time around. I didn’t fight the last time; I was pulled out.

My mind is dark, cloudy and it’s always raining down on me. It’s a shitstorm up in there. I can feel myself slipping away from my own hands. I can’t grasp onto anything. I'm starting to feel blank, nothing. I can’t feel the hot water from the hour-long showers that burn at my skin. The boiling hot coffee when I over pour my cup. The rain when I stand outside as I let it drown me in my darkness. The warmth of some random strangers smiling as they pass me on the street. The morning sun that used to light up my insides, only makes me want to hideaway. Or even my own laughter when I pretend everything is okay for a split second.

I can’t breathe.

When I stand I can’t feel my own legs, I spend days on the floor. I lay there feeling lifeless, worthless, a burden to this world. I hate the person I see in the mirror.

I hate her. The problem is; no one hates me more than I hate myself.

She is a twisted dark person.

I have no control.

I’ve spent days and nights gripping the bottle tightly, sometimes it’s the only thing I look at. I opened it once, I dropped one into my palm and stared at it for what felt like years. I hate myself but I can never get myself to take it down. Why not? What twisted part of me still wants to live? To still be here? What is there to live for? Who is there to live for?

I’m drowning in the emptiness of nothing.

My job. My job. My job.

What the hell am I supposed to say when someone tells me I saved their life but I can barely keep mine intact. Do I say your welcome? Should I have wrapped my arm around them and held them tightly enough to make myself feel whole again? Instead, I smiled at them and said ‘you keep fighting, alright?’

I go out there and I do my job so damn well that no one knows what happens when I'm alone. But how much longer? How much longer before I crash and burn in front of them? Until they figure it out? Once they do, they'll try to help; no one can help me now. Who will they be trying to save? One of them is already on to me. I already get broken looks from them. I get sidelined and benched. They have no idea who’s dying behind that smiling face. But I love them, my God, do I love them. They are the only family I’ve ever had but I can’t tell them. I can’t drag them down with me. I love them so for my sake and theirs, im letting them go.

I stand in the line of fire without a fear. I don’t shake. I don’t tremble. I don’t blink.

Stand tall, without fear, without hate. Maybe next time I’ll do …

One less soul makes the earth a little bit lighter, right?

Spencer felt his eyes burn, the tears rolled down his cheeks.

No.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #bau #bau x y/n #bau x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds masterlist #spencessmiles fanfics

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hehebread · 3 years ago

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[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

#dekubaku #dkbk #bakudeku #bkdk #bnha #mha #boku no hero fic #boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #prompt fill #icewrites

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N: here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾ the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much. And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

#George weasley #George Weasley imagine #George weasley smut #gw #golden

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years ago

Text

test drive

{ synopsis : you and nct were bored so you decided to go around the table and disclose a lot of sexual information (it gets more and more sexual as you read on ;) }

{ genre : headcanon/sexual }

{ warning : this is solely my interpretation of nct 127 and not confirmed information }

{ word count : 1.7k }

“I guess I’ll start then,” taeyong inhales a deep breath. “…im a switch” taeyong says dramatically and puts his head down as if it was a big secret. you all looked at him with a straight face, not saying anything until he looks up again. “what?” taeyongs eyes dance around the table.

“tell me something I don’t know” you snark.

“what do you mean?” he visibly furrows his eyebrows.

“she means, we all know that you love to be tied up and whipped,” jaehyun says blankly. “who's next?” he further says cutting taeyong off completely.

“im next, let’s just go around the table,” johnny says looking at the others. “i’m a dom obviously”

“tell us why. oh, and everyone has to explain why just so they know. except for taeyong, the lyrics you write say enough” you look at him and everyone laughs. taeyong makes a face in return and you smile before looking back at johnny.

“because i’m not getting tied up and shit, the girl is. i’ll allow her to feel up on me but that’s it.” johnny shrugs and looks at haechan since he’s next.

“i’m a dom but will allow a girl to have her fun. i’ll let her do whatever she wants just because she loves it. it won’t happen too often tho because i’ll be taking control most of the time.” haechan says, nodding and looking at jungwoo.

“um… switch. I like to be in control but I also like a woman who could dom me hard. like the whips, handcuffs, blindfolds, all of that is hot. they don’t even have to be used on me it’s just the image of a woman who is like that, is so sexy. especially when they wear lingerie” jungwoo bites his lip softly, seemingly getting lost in his thoughts.

“so your like taeyong? got it. next.” you point to taeil.

“I guess… switch because I want the girl to have fun, as long as she’s enjoying it then I am too” taeil shrugs simply.

“dom… do I have to explain myself?” yuta shifts his eyes around the table.

“yes”

“because I like to do the tying up and fucking, not the other way around. but if I really love the girl then i’ll let her have her fun until I take control again” yuta explains and then leans back in his chair.

“dom but I wouldn’t mind a woman taking control” doyoung says.

“so… switch?” johnny says.

“no, dom” doyoung looks at johnny.

“no- you know what never mind. just go jaehyun” johnny makes the ‘whatever’ hand gesture.

“dom all the way because im the top, simple. my girl will be moaning my name and that’s, that” jaehyun shrugs and the group moves their eyes to mark, who looked he was deep in thought. his head was pointing down at the table, it took for a tap on the shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts.

“is it my turn?” mark asks with wide, confused eyes.

“yes mark” yuta replies. a/n: I can hear his voice lmao

“my bad, um… dom; my girl is not performing all that extra shit on me, and quite frankly I don’t think I will either. I would probably only use handcuffs and that’s it… what’s that called?” marks eyes look around the table for an answer.

“soft dom?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“yes, that’s it” he points to you. “i’m a soft dom”

“cute, next,” you say the first part sarcastically. “my turn” you smile devilishly at the boys, looking at their faces individually. some of them looked confused, blank, or amused.

“i’m a… switch” your nose scrunches up as you smile. “it really depends on the person, like if they give me sub vibes then I automatically wanna dom them but if they give me dom vibes then i’ll want to submit to them” you smirk. “I could make every single one of your dreams come true”

“oh really?” johnny cocks his eyebrow and you nod with a small smile. “alright then go around this table and say what vibe each of us give you; oh and you have to say what you want to do with us” you widen your eyes and almost choke on your spit when you hear that. the boys are amused at this and clap their hands.

“I don’t think that’s necessary” you wave your hand.

“sure it is y/n” doyoung smirks. a bunch of yeah’s come for the guys, agreeing with doyoung.

“I don’t think your ready” you shake your head, looking at all of them. they protest at this statement, making you sigh and then finally agree to it.

“taeyong” you smile staring at him. you see him visibly gulp as his eyes are staring back into yours, that’s when your demeanor completely changes. “you give me switch vibes and I want to dom you. I want to tie your hands behind your back, blindfold, and whip you. I’d want to hear your pretty noises too” you smirk the whole time you release the words. he awkwardly laughs in return, not knowing what to say to that. the other guys were a mix of amused and dumbfounded but you didn’t pay any mind to it purposefully.

“johnny” you look at him and smile innocently. he stares at you with eyes that were slowly seducing you. “dom vibes. I want you to cut off my airways with your hands and then make me cum so many times that I end up passing out” you bite your lip teasingly, trying to get under his skin a bit and it works. he’s looking back at you with dark eyes, most likely imagining the scenario.

“haechan” you bite your lip and look him up and down. “dom vibes but doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you from behind” you wink at him, making him widen his eyes the farthest they’ll go. “although, I do want your lips all over my body” you click your tongue and look at the guy next to him.

“jungwoo” you say lovingly and put your head in your palm. “switch vibes. your appearance changes a lot, from cute to hot in the blink of an eye. anyways, I want to dom you and give you your ultimate fantasy. I want your eyes to be focused on me and me only baby boy” you look at him with dark eyes and he returns that same look to you. “and I want those lips on my body too” your teeth tug on your bottom lip slightly before shifting your eyes over.

“taeil” you smile sweetly at him, scrunching your nose cutely. “you strike me more as the I don’t care vibes. like you don’t care if your top or bottom, you just want to be with your lover. but honestly, I would wanna make love to you more than anything and that’s the truth” you shrug and he grins.

“yuta” your eyes automatically get darker. “hard dom for sure. I want you to rail me until I can’t walk anymore, and I want to make out with you” he cocks his eyebrow at you which you find so hot but you decide to keep your cool.

“doyoung” your eyes soften at his bunny face. “switch vibes. I want to ride you and make you moan my name” you lick your lips. the small, yet effective sentence was enough to make him so flustered he had to cover his face. you knew just from that, that you’d done your job successfully and decide to move along.

“jaehyun” you look him up and down with an amused face. “dom vibes, so much that it makes me wanna suck your dick so bad. your confidence can come off as cocky sometimes but it’s hot all at the same time. I wanna make you feel so good” you bite your lip. he’s playing with his bottom lip and looking back at you with attentive eyes. you end with a wink and look to mark, to say the least, he looks terrified.

“mark” you smile with a pout playing on your lips. “calm down, you’re a soft dom obviously and I only wanna have vanilla sex, you know regular, standard sex.” you shrug.

“isn’t that boring though?” taeyong says.

“with mark, nothing is ever boring” you smile softly at mark and he gives you a light smile back. “alright i’m done” you sigh. “you guys hungry because I am” you go to stand up but johnny wraps his hand around your wrist from across the table, gripping it firmly.

“ah, ah, ah, you're not going anywhere princess, sit down and don’t make me tell you again” you swore he was eye-fucking you right now. his eyes were focused on you heavily, moving their way up and down your body.

“yes, daddy” you grin and sit down. johnny bites his lip harshly and takes his hand off your wrist. you felt a sadness at the loss of contact but then felt a hand on your thigh. you look up to find out who the owner was and you weren't too surprised to find that it was taeyong. he looking at you, looking you up and down before looking away. what was it about the outfit we're wearing that attracted all of them? all you were wearing was a tank top and some leggings, that’s literally it what was so special?

you look down at yourself immediately identifying the problem. your shirt had been too low for an undisclosed amount of time. you were on the verge of flashing them all without noticing it but you think you were more upset that they didn’t let you know.

“really guys? you couldn’t help out a friend” you shake your head and adjust your bra and pull up your shirt.

“but then we wouldn’t have gotten to see all that we just saw” johnny replies instantly.

“is that true?” you look around the table and they nod in compliance. “you all are perverts” you breathily laugh.

“you shouldn’t be talking” jaehyun fires back.

“but- you’re right” you shrug and it gets quiet. “so… what do you guys want to do now?” the guys all look at each other, smirking and nodding, some whispering to the other. you didn’t know what they were talking about but whatever it was, there was no way it was good. they all then stop talking and look at you.

“we want to test drive you”

NCT Masterlist

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

Text

Pull of the Moon

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.8k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), werewolf!au ]

themes : masturbation, licking/biting, dom!Kiri, rough sex, dirty talk, slight choking, friends to lovers, confession

bio : Eijirou makes sure he’s far away from you for when the heat cycle strikes, but just when he thinks your friendship is safe from his monstrous hormones, there you are at his doorstep.

author’s note : so this is a fic that i wrote years ago for my kpop blog, linked in my bio. i wanted to repost it here for bnha, just bc i like the way i wrote it and i think it’s pretty fitting character-wise for Kiri! plus im a slut for werewolf fics. and also i wanted to post something while work is keeping me from writing something 100% new rn :3 pls note this is NOT plagiarized as I am the original author of the original fic.

side note : if there are any places where it says Jae, Jaebum, etc. lemme know bc it was a quick job i did converting this to a Kiri fic lol like even the title is the same oops

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂o you’re sure you have to leave for tonight, Y/N?” Kirishima inquires, tilting his head in his open palm to crane his bright gaze up toward your face.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can get out of visiting my parents for dinner this time,” you reply, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you cuddle your chin into the warmth of Kirishima’s oversized scarf. The soft fabric grazes under your nose, and your eyes close blissfully as you inhale Kirishima’s strong, spicy aroma mingled with his cologne.

Kirishima watches you through slitted eyes, secretly pleased at your actions. Not that he would ever tell you, because that would be weird. He shuts his eyes tightly, telling himself in his head not to overthink it. Of course you like how he smells, he’s your friend. Friends like how each other smell… right? His body shivers as your fingers naturally slide into his thick, red hair. His face slides down as his body turns to jello, leaning completely on top of the table in complete euphoria at the feeling of your touch. If there was a price to have your hands on him for every hour of the day, he would pay it a thousand times over. His lips part as his jaw instinctively unhinges at your undivided attention like a newborn puppy, chin angling when your fingers slide down to the side of his jaw you brush just underneath it before pulling away.

“Eiji, I really do have to go,” you murmur, fingers retreating from his form as he lets out a low whine. One of his warm eyes opens, scowling at you playfully.

“Okay,” he sighs when you push out your chair and begin to gather your things. He places some money on the table before following you out of the coffee shop. “I’m jealous, please bring me some of your mom’s noodles. You know how much I like them, and her.“

“I will Eiji. But you’re lucky you’re not coming, because all they ever do is gush about what a cute couple we’d be and it always ends up being weird,” you trail off, nodding to yourself.

Kirishima nods too but his heart jumps at you thinking of him as an intimate partner.

“By the way, thanks for the latte. And tell Mina hello for me when you see her tonight,” you laugh with a suggestive wink.

Kirishima rolls his eyes. “You know I’m only spending the night with her to help her with her… issues."

You smack his arm and scoff. “As if that’s a burden to you! At least you’re spending the night having fun. I’m just gonna be answering the million questions my parents will be asking about you the whole time and falling asleep in my bed by myself."

“It’s not my fault I’m so lovable,” he banters, a cheeky grin splicing between his lips, trying to shake the image of you alone in bed out of his imaginative mind.

“Say that to you baku-squad,” you retort, the two of you now standing in front of the cafe as you linger before your journey to the bus station.

“Hey— wait, is that my scarf?” Kirishima asks, pretending to notice just now when he really did the moment you walked in two hours ago. But you looked so cute all bundled up in his scarf that he decided not to say anything, content to see you warm and happy in his own clothing.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” you unwrap it from your neck and Kirishima gazes at the newly-revealed skin there with longing, forgetting about the scarf. “Eiji?"

He snaps out of it. “What? Oh— the scarf.. Keep it, I was just teasing,” he mumbles as you hook the material around the back of his neck. He’s considerably tall, massive frame towering over you so much that you have to strain your arms to fling the material onto his shoulders.

“That’s okay Eiji... you look cute in it, so wear it for Mina,” you smile half-heartedly, tugging the fabric at the ends to coil around his throat snugly. “Don’t worry about me."

“I always worry about you, Y/N,” Kirishima gazes into your eyes with a passionate longing undetectable to you. Not Mina, he wants to add.

“Well, don’t, Red, I’ll be okay. I always am,” you trace his jaw slowly with a finger before your hands fall at your sides, brushing off your coat.

Kirishima nods hesitantly, falling into a quiet, comfortable pace beside you.

Your boots quickly become cold as the two of you trudge through the slush from leftover snow, the bitter winter breeze chilling your nose and ears. Sooner than either of you would like, you’ve reached the bus station. Kirishima shuffles from foot to foot, arguing with himself as to if he should ask you to stay and have dinner with him instead of going on the hour-long ride to your parents’.

“Are you sure this is okay? You don’t want me to come with you? Or I can drive you. The roads aren’t that great tonight… Mina will understand. She doesn’t— We’re not dating, you know— me and her, I mean, I only… help her as a friend.. So I can cancel, and she won’t have any issues. She has lots of other guy friends,” Kirishima reasons.

“Eiji,” you chuckle, taking your duffel bag from his hand that he’d carried for the journey here, “Mina needs you.”

But I need you, Kirishima thinks as he bites his lip. “Okay… have a safe ride then. And text me when you get there.”

“Yes, Dad,” you laugh. You slip into his arms easily, almost naturally, and press your face against his chest beneath his wool jacket.

Kirishima’s arms encircle you immediately, instinctively pulling you to him as his chin falls atop the crown of your head. “I’ll miss you,” he breathes.

“Don’t be weird, Eiji,” you giggle, pulling away from him much too soon for his liking. “See you tomorrow.”

Kirishima watches you walk into the bus terminal, duffel bag in your hand with his heart unknowingly tucked deep inside of it.

Kirishima paces back and forth between the couch and the dining table. His nerves are shaky and his body uncharacteristically twitchy. He’d been smelling female wolves around the city all day while he was out with you, but he managed to ward them off with icy glares and his steel-strong self-control. It also helped that you were there to distract him, seeing as when he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. But now that he was alone— Mina had cancelled on him to spend the night with an “old friend” that had come back to town— and he was all by himself, he was feeling the full effects of the female wolf hormones he’d breathed in for the past twelve hours.

He closes his eyes as his mind wanders to the image of you wrapped up in his scarf in the cafe; the warm scent of coffee; the condensation on the windows; your light-filled eyes on him; the scent of your freshly-washed hair… He opens his eyes, tongue running over his front teeth as he feels the evident, sharp prod of his elongated cuspids as a result of his piqued interest. He groans, feeling his eyes dilate just the slightest of fractions. He sits on the floor, sliding down the wall with a frown on his plump lips.

Kirishima watches the hands of the clock tick on the wall in front of him for a moment before he shuts his eyes and smacks his head back against the drywall, a loud whine releasing from his throat. The apartment lacks of things that could possibly captivate his attention at the moment; all he can do is think about you— your pretty face, your gentle caress on his skin just hours before. There are no messages from you and his sensitive ears long to hear the chime notification that signifies your safe arrival.

“Just friends,” he murmurs, “just friends, just friends, just friends."

He tries to breathe in deeply to relax himself, but success quickly slips through his grasp as the scent of you lingers on the scarf casually thrown over the back of the sofa. His jaw clenches as his teeth gnash, taking in your alluring aroma. He tries to think of something— anything else, but he eventually gives up, slamming his palms flat on the hardwood floor as he pushes himself up. He lunges toward the couch, throwing himself onto the open cushions as his hands immediately find the soft cotton. He brings the material to his nose, a low moan falling from his open mouth as the intense smell floods his senses.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, readjusting his hips as he feels his body reacting swiftly to the pull of your scent. He hisses lightly as he feels the blood rush to his pants, wiggling his hips around to feel the delicious friction against his hardening erection. He rubs the inside of his thigh gently with his palm, imagining your small hand instead of his on his jean-clad length. “God, this is so fucked,” he gasps, grip strengthening on himself through his jeans. Originally his plan for the evening consisted of fucking Mina senseless and imagining it was you, but seeing as she had cancelled, this was the next best option.

Kirishima fumbles with his belt and shimmies out of his jeans, ripping his constrictive t-shirt over his head and whipping it elsewhere into the living room. He kicks the denim off from around his ankles next, one hand holding the soft fabric of the scarf close to his nose and the other trailing toward his throbbing hard-on from the bend of his knee; how he imagines your hand would do.

A feral grunt dislodges from the back of his throat as he pictures your hair falling around your perfectly cherubic face that leans down toward his own, one hand pressing his chest down against the couch cushion and the other hand on his thigh tracing the outline of his cock straining against his briefs. His hips jerk as his forefinger runs from tip to base, his thumb sliding backwards over the previous route to caress the head of his dick gently in circular swipes. He seals his lips together by sucking in the bottom one, his canines lengthened by arousal piercing the soft flesh of the lower lip so that a metal taste floods his mouth, but he only closes his eyes and continues his ministrations.

Kirishima continues to skim the pads of his fingertips over the prominent erection that pushes against his underwear in defiance, face pressed into the back of the sofa so the cushions catch his heavy moans instead of his neighbors. He halts for a moment so he can find a throw pillow to sink his fangs into, positioning the scarf above his lip and against the pillow so it presses right against his hypersensitive nose. A strangled moan tears from him, his hand immediately returning to his leaking hard-on. It dips underneath the band of his boxers before it wraps around his width, squeezing tight. His body shakes and he sucks in a breath, squirming to lay flat against the leather of the sofa. Slowly he moves his hand up to encompass the head, a heavy snarl being lost into the throw pillow. He strokes himself teasingly, thumb trailing behind to caress the aching tip. His hips push into the cushion as his body moves to a natural rhythm, thrusting them up slightly as his fist falls back down toward his abdomen. The thick precum dribbling from his tip lathers his palm so his cock slides into it easily. His eyelashes tickle his high cheekbones as his eyes shut tighter, fingertips tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft.

The sofa wheezes as he shifts, impatiently pushing his briefs down in one tug to rest on his mid-thighs. He scoots off of the sofa and onto the hardwood floor, kneeling as he places his fist onto the tabletop, lining his hips delicately before sliding his length into his firm grasp. He whimpers into the pillow, now damp with his saliva, and hunches over the table, his free arm curled underneath his broad torso. The fabric of the scarf tickles his nose but he inhales deeper, hips pushing in and out of his fist quickly. He imagines you beneath him instead of the table and his fist, moaning with him as his canines sink into your neck to mark you as his and only his. His destitute wails are swallowed by the soft pillow and the scarf as he keeps thrusting steadily, imagination running so wildly he can almost feel your legs on either side of him, pushing him further inside of you.

“Oh, Y/N,” he grunts, cuspids fully lengthened and sharpened now in desire, piercing the soft fabric of the pillow almost enough so his bottom and top teeth could touch through the plush object,” Y/N, I’m gonna—“

Knock knock knock.

Kirishima’s body stills as he opens his eyes, disappointment rushing through him at the sight of the coffee table underneath him. He wants to scream, but he just shuts his eyes, taking a breath in before sliding his hard cock out of his fist and tucking the slick inconvenience back into his boxers. His breath is labored and heavy, but he manages to find his jeans and slip them on anyway. “One sec,” he says loudly, fastening the button before hesitantly wiping his hand on the side of the denim. He can’t help but sulk as he walks over and picks his shirt up from the floor, breathing deeply and hoping his canines aren’t too obvious of an indicator as to what he was just doing… not to mention the angrily-pulsing dick resting against the inside of his thigh.

He strides toward the door, opening it ready to tell Mina he thought she’d cancel when he’s greeted with your sweet face and the scent of Italian food. His jaw almost hits the floor as he gapes at you, dick pressing longingly against his jeans at your familiar smell, but in person it radiates off of you so strong he almost lunges at you. You’re looking up at him with those bright cheerful eyes he loves, a timid smile on your lips as you swing the takeout bag back and forth behind your back in anticipation.

“Hi, Eiji,” you smile and set the bag on the ground next to the door before you turn around and take his tense body into your arms, throwing yourself onto him.

A gasp rips from his throat but quickly turns into a cough, body trembling at your singeing touch. His jaw quivers as he conceals his pointed teeth, angling his thigh away from you strategically. “Y-Y/N, w-what are you doing here?” He manages to ask, lips sealing immediately once the words are pushed out. His hands remain clenched at his sides; he’s scared that if he touches you now he won’t be able to stop.

“There was a freak accident on the highway ahead of my bus… We had to turn back. My parents don’t mind though, they said we can reschedule. Maybe you won’t need to miss my mom’s noodles this time; you can come if you want. By the way, I brought Italian!” You smile as you pick up the bag and brush past him, leaving him standing there, looking at the door with a glare.

You move around the sofa and sit on one of the leather cushions, setting the bag onto the coffee table. “Ew Eiji,” he sits next to you stiffly, eyes widening as you reach over to the table and poke a finger into the slick trail of precum that had dribbled out of his fist just moments ago. “What is this? Do you ever clean this apartment?” You giggle, unfolding the paper bag the food had come in and wiping your finger on your skirt. “Anyway, I got food from your favorite place and made sure I got the breadsticks with the extra sauce ‘cause I know you lov—“

A quiet groan escapes Kirishima’s mouth as he puts his head in his hands— your scent, your alluring body, your heart-swelling gaze, just you, being here—it’s too much for his raging hormones.

“Ei? Are you okay?” You ask, scooting closer and pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. He’s shaking and you don’t know why, so you bring his head to rest against your collar, just above your fluttering heart. “Eiji, you’re burning up…”

He stays pressed against you, the desperation and torture he felt earlier suddenly fleeting and gone from his body as your own erases them completely. He swallows. It feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong. This is wrong when you’re just his friend and his dick is leaking into his underwear for you as you hold him like this.

“Get out,” Kirishima murmurs, eyes set on the paper bag.

You still, slowly pulling him. “W-What Eiji?”

“You need to leave,” he says through his teeth, jaw set tight.

“Eijirou.. I don’t understand— is this how you treat someone when they bring you your favorite food?” You spit, hands curling into frustrated fists.

Kirishima ignores you, knowing he can apologize tomorrow when he’s in the right mindset but you being here with him at the moment could jeopardize your entire relationship.

“I… Is it… her? Is it Mina?” You murmur, and Kirishima’s gaze turns to you sharply at the drop in your tone. His lips part to say something to soothe your confidence as he sees it shatter. “I didn’t realize— I thought—” you breathe in sharply and shake your head, shooting up from your spot and rushing around the sofa.

Kirishima beats you to the door, palm reaching over your shoulder to slam it just as you can get it open a sliver. He grabs your biceps, spinning you around and pressing you against the door with his hand as a cushion to break your impact.

“It’s never been Mina,” he snarls, knee splitting your legs and sliding up the gap between your thighs to press against your core; your panties and his jeans the only thing separating your center from his skin.

Your eyes widen and you gasp as his hands cup your face with care, scarlet eyes searing into your own with an intensity you’d never seen before. His pupils are dilating with every second, a black coal seemingly swallowed up by the burning fire of his irises.

“It’s you, Y/N,” he murmurs, eyes shutting into a long blink, and when they open again the red you’re used to is flooded with tendrils of electric amber and yellow. “It’s always been you, and it’ll always be you.”

You gape at him as he holds you there, against his front door, professing his love to you.

“I need you Y/N, I need you so bad it fucking hurts not being able to touch you,” he growls lowly. “If you can’t love me back, you have to leave, now. I don’t want your lust, I can smell it from here,” his honeyed eyes roll back as he takes in a whiff of the wanton-perfumed air around you, mouth parting and you watch his pink tongue slide over his elongated canines, feeling a tremor between your legs. His eyes open and they set straight on yours with a certain determination.

“I can’t wake up next to you tomorrow and have tonight be just for friends with benefits. I love only you, Y/N,” Kirishima delivers, voice never quivering,“now tell me you feel the same, or go.”

There’s a slight fragility in his gaze that begs you not to break his heart. He peers into you at such a small distance that you can see every brilliant fleck of gold in his sinful eyes, warm ginger bursting around the outer ridges of his irises that focus solely on you. The dim lighting casts stretched shadows from his long, dark lashes; his bronzed skin glowing subtly to intensify his passionate gaze.

“Kirishima,” you place a hand on his clenched but trembling jaw, tilting your face to look him in the eye better. “You’ve been hurting all this time for no reason.”

His scarlet gaze lights with hope and happiness. “Say it then,” he whispers, words soft and nearly begging, as if he fears if his voice is too loud he’ll wake from a dream.

“Kirishima Eijirou, I love you, too. God, I have beein in love with you for so long,” you reply, and he wastes no time as his mouth descends upon yours. He presses your lips to his passionately, hands resting on your hips and rubbing the smooth skin there underneath your blouse. You gasp as they guide your hips gently in circles against his kneecap, your mouth falling open at his forward actions. He takes advantage of your open mouth and darts his tongue in, tangling it with yours in a powerful embrace.

His steady clutch on your waist drags your body up his clothed thigh, and a soft, unabashed moan falls from your lips at the action. The taut muscle of his leg between his jeans and your panties rubs graciously against your flustered center, making your head loll back to rest against the door.

“Don’t do that,” Kirishima groans, a hand leaving your warm hip and tilting your head forward once again to look at him directly. His fingers trail against your smooth neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath the tender skin. His palm curls softly around the back of your neck, pressing you closer to him as his other arm hooks underneath your bottom. You squeak in surprise and cling to him, legs wrapping around his midsection and core pressing upon his rigid erection.

You look at him with wide eyes as he throws his head back, sucking in air harshly between his clenched jaw. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses, holding you tighter and stalking over to the sofa. He places you in between the two cushions, standing in front of you and looking down, breathing laboriously before he tilts his head back again, willing for some kind of miraculous strength to get him through the night without sealing you to him forever.

“How come you get to do that and I don’t?” You frown as he looks down at you before he crouches, his face dropping just below your own to gaze up at you.

“Because you don’t have the urge to sink your three-centimeter canines into my throat,” his upper lip curls back as he shows you the result of his attraction to you.

You look at him with unintentionally pouted lips, batting your eyelashes as you take in his words. Isn’t that how werewolves marry or something? You think. Kirishima had explained it all once before, one night when you were both wasted at three in the morning at some bar on the outskirts of the city.

“God, can you look unattractive for one second while I try to pull myself together?” Kirishima groans, a hand running through his disheveled hair.

“Who said I want you to pull yourself together?” You inquire, scooting toward the lip of the cushion.

Kirishima looks at you warily with an underlying, longing hunger before you place your hands on either side of his sharp jaw and bring his lips to yours. Your eyes close immediately and his blissfully, your hands gliding down his neck to his broad chest. You grapple onto his wide shoulders, one hand burying into the hair at the base of his neck to push him into the kiss even more.

His throat vibrates gently with an almost-inaudible growl, and you part his tender lips with a swipe of your tongue, the pink muscle coasting in and gently feeling the warm, smooth hardness of his cuspids.

Kirishima untucks your blouse in one pull, fingers nimbly undoing each button before sliding the clothing off your shoulders and tossing it away. His hands lay strategically on your ribs, fingertips brushing the underwire of your bra just barely.

He pulls you forward into his arms, hands splaying onto your back with delight, fingers undoing the fastening between your shoulder blades with glee. You lean into him as he flings the bra in the direction of the blouse, mouth instantly latching to your breast and tongue twirling around the swollen bud. You wail, pushing him closer as his teeth bump against your nipple and his lips grow taut with a warm smirk, depraved gaze intense as ever.

You want more than ever to throw your head back onto the top of the sofa, but you know you’re forbidden to do so. Instead, you slide your body further down onto the cushions, hips brushing against Kirishima’s torso as his mouth leaves your nipples, your face coming to a stop directly in front of his. Your hands cup his angular jaw again, coaxing his lips onto yours into an ardent kiss. His long eyelashes flutter against your blushed cheeks, his coarse hair drifting softly through your digits.

His hands land on your rolling hips, scuttling closer on his knees so his crotch feels the steady rhythm. He hums, a primitive trembling in his throat that sounds more like a soft growl. Your hands fall to the hem of his snug t-shirt, which he gladly expels into the corner toward your blouse and bra. You lean back a bit and admire his toned form. His broad chest, pectorals curving dramatically to his wide shoulders seamlessly; the v shape tapering down to the top of his jeans; the faint trail of dark hair waning below the brass button to his jeans; the way his abdominal muscles flex with each heavy breath; the salient outline against his thigh that both he and you know aches for your attention.

You can’t help yourself. You reach between his strong thighs, fingers skimming along the bulge mockingly. Kirishima’s head rolls full circle, hand clutching your wrist tightly as he stares into you, lips parting and hot pink tongue gliding along his white, sharp teeth. “That was very naughty of you,” he murmurs, honeyed eyes darkening to a burnt orange. Trepidation ignites in your heart, but also desire floods your senses as well as your panties.

“Eijirou,” you breathe and his lip curls back into a snarl, a loud growl releasing from his throat. His nostrils flare and he swallows harshly.

“Say it again,” he orders, leaning into your face.

“E-Eijirou,” it comes out as a whisper, but his sensitive ears hear the slight whine to your tone, and his cock jumps at the sound against your eager fingertips. “You like it when I say your name, Eiji?”

His tongue runs swiftly over his lip, his eyeing your chest hips hungrily. His hand reached forward on its own accord, sliding effortlessly under the soft material of your skirt to press against your warmed, wet panties. His lips curve into a devious smirk, fangs poking out slightly as his dark, copper-tainted eyes set on yours. “Mmm, and you like it when I growl for you, baby girl?”

“God, yes Eiji,” you answer and gulp at his overwhelming intensity. He trains his gaze to the movement of your fragile throat, tongue flicking around one canine subconsciously. A deep purr of sorts emanates from him in approval, making your legs tremble and press together around his intruding forearm.

He smiles devilishly, white teeth glinting in the dim lighting. His other hand circles round your back, pushing your tailbone so your body slides forward on the couch, to the very edge of the cushion. His fingers nudge your thong aside, immediately met with your poignant arousal. The tips of his middle and ring finger separate your folds facilely, gliding over your entrance and clit making you bite your lip to hold in an impatient moan. “Oh baby, you’re so wet for me,” he chuckles. “If only we’d figured this out sooner.”

“Eiji, fuck,” you cry when he rubs your clit gently, your jaw trembling as you sag against his arm’s firm hold and the back of the sofa. You can’t throw your head back so you lean forward, elbows falling on Kirishima’s generous shoulders, the side of your face against his soft hair as his tongue guides a pebbled nipple into his mouth, caressing it slowly and pressing it against his teeth. You whimper pathetically, his thumb replacing his fingers as they slide down and glide half-way right into your awaiting entrance.

He hooks the two fingers and presses repeatedly, making you shove his face closer to your breasts in pleasure. He slides them deeper, knuckles lapping against your slick entrance as his tongue works diligently on your nipple. You clench around him and moan loudly at the depth his fingers achieve, the feeling of total ecstasy near. It had been a long time since a man had touched you, and it was no where near as incredible as having Kirishima’s thick fingers rubbing inside you.

“Eijirou, that feels so—” you warn but he only picks up the pace. He leans down, tongue replacing his thumb smoothly and you almost scream. He strokes your clit fervently, tongue lapping persistently up and down as his long canines brush on either side, his fingers curling and straightening at the same pace. “Fuck Eiji— I’m seriously gonna cum,” you pant, falling back against the back of the sofa.

He looks up at you mischievously, dark eyes alight with arousal and a touch of humor. You feel his full lips in a smirk as he wraps them around your clit, tongue lavishing it faster. One hand falls to his hair, gripping it tight as the other curls against your mouth, your eyes shutting tight as your orgasm smashes against you like a wave crashing down upon you. You moan, body quivering in Kirishima’s strong grip, wiggling pointlessly against the sofa cushions.

Kirishima doesn’t cease until you’ve returned from your high, standing up and unfastening his jeans quickly, pushing them down and kicking them off when they reach his ankles. You sit up from your slumped position, hands landing on his thighs and traveling around to rub the backs of them in anticipation. Kirishima watches you hungrily, his thick cock longing for your attention. You lean forward, almost touching where he wants you most, before you look up at him and give him your most innocent doe eyes you can muster after having his sinful session on you just moments before. You bat your lashes and he growls loudly, fists clenching at his sides.

“Y/N,” he advises, tone a little menacing. You tilt your head and press your lips against his erection through his briefs, a low groan sounding from above you. You kiss down toward the tip and back up to the base of his shaft before you reach up and untuck him, briefs sliding to the hardwood floor. You smirk as you look at what you’ve done to him. His dick is throbbing gently as you rest it against a palm, beads of translucent-white precum adorning the tip of the red, swollen tip. You repeat your kiss trail on his bare skin, his cock twitching at the action as you feel the vein underneath contract harshly. When you reach the base your tongue pokes out, tracing up and down the prominent vein on the underside.

Kirishima watches you with a dark, maleficent gaze, throat tightening and a growl tumbling out when you take the head into your mouth, sucking teasingly as your tongue dances around the leaking tip. “Fuck yes, baby girl. Just like that."

You retreat with a loud pop, smiling up at him and his heart flutters in his chest at the pureness of it. With an open mouth you glide your tongue along the sides of him to slicken his entire length before your lips encompass the tip and suddenly his dick is touching the back of your throat and you don’t even seem to mind. Kirishima lets out a strangled moan of shock, watching your head bob energetically up and down his hot length. He watches you in awe for a few minutes, just dazed this is really happening and he’s not waking up abruptly like when he’d dreamt this scenario so many nights before.

He snaps out of it suddenly, aware his cock is tensing the way it does when he’s about to cum. You’d noticed, too, at the feel of the harsh, bulging vein on the under-shaft, slowing down to a halt and leaning back to catch your breath.

“Baby you did so good,” he praises, hands cupping your face and you beam at him proudly. “Now take off your skirt for me.”

You comply eagerly, shimmying out of the cotton garment, your thong following close behind. Kirishima smugly watches the stings of your arousal snap as your panties are thrown onto the floor, fist stroking his length slowly to keep himself at bay.

“Turn,” he instructs, other hand guiding you to face away from him,” knees on the couch, now.”

You do as told, looking back at him over your shoulder expectantly. He smiles and steps forward, and your back arches as you feel his length glide against your dripping entrance.

“Be a good girl for me, okay? Do not let me get anywhere near your throat, got it? If I do, I’ll sink my teeth into you so fast you won’t know what’s happening. And then you’re stuck with me for life. So watch out for yourself, baby. This is your only warning,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear before a hand lands on your hip and suddenly he’s pushing into you, a gasp tearing from your throat as he stretches you to your capacity. When his hips bump against your ass your eyes have already rolled back in delirium, your lip falling open in shock.

He pulls out half-way before sheathing back inside slowly, a whine releasing from your mouth. His hand remains on your hip while the other grabs a fistful of your hair, trailing out again before snapping in. The tip of his cock nestles so deep in you that tears dot along your bottom lashes; the feeling is so blissful and fulfilling that your emotions skyrocket.

“Eijirou— oh, yes,” you whimper as he repeats the action, movements still paced and measured to help you adjust to his size.

“Feel good, baby? ‘Cuz this feels amazing for me— you feel amazing on me, Y/N,” he grunts, fingers gripping the skin of your hip tighter as he angles your face so he can see it with his other hand.

“Yes, fuck yes, you feels so good,” you commend as the pace intensifies, making a moan spill out of you. He groans from behind you, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your other hip to keep you steady. You clutch onto the top of the sofa tightly as he pounds into you, and you gasp as a hand leaves your hip for a moment and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, making your back arch into Kirishima’s grasp. You’re babbling now, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. “Oh god—ohgodohgodohgodohgod.”

Kirishima hisses as he watches the bright pink mark on your ass cheek tremble as his hips slam against yours, bottom lip tucked under his offending cuspids. He licks his lip to keep from drooling onto you, eyes trained on your perfect figure that he’s fucking into the sofa. Pleasure courses through his body, intensified at the sound and obvious proof of your own satisfaction as he thrusts into you quickly.

“Again,” you lament softly, and if he hadn’t been a werewolf with keen hearing he wouldn’t have heard your request over the assaulting sound of your skin slapping against his. He delivers and slaps your other cheek sharply, a lustful mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby,” Kirishima admires, smirking as you turn slightly to look at him. He grabs your shoulder and pulls your torso back, slamming it against his as his other hand wraps around your throat snugly to stop his innate temptation to leave his mark there. The other hand leaves your arm and instead bands around your waist, pressing you flush against him. His hips retreat and pound into you in the new position, and you rest your head back onto his shoulder since your neck is safe from his view with his large hand covering it.

You stare into each other as he continues, and you move your hips back as he moves his in, making each thrust more powerful. His lips find yours and they mould easily, your hand coming up to caress his jaw and press his face closer to yours.

“Eiji, your cock feels so good,” you pant between his kisses and potent strokes, “God, you’re so big.”

“Mmm, I love when you talk dirty to me,” Kirishima murmurs against your mouth, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.

It’s fucked up but his tight hold on your throat is only turning you on more, making your eyes close as each thrust feels better than the last.

“Fuck, Ei,” you groan, slouching back against his toned form as the pleasure is too great.

“Here, baby,” he says, cock slipping out of you before picking you up, walking briskly out of the common space and into a hallway, then finally into his bedroom. He shuts the door with his foot, laying you gently onto his messy bedsheets and blankets. He rolls you over onto your stomach before he climbs on top of you, hovering above you before he slips back in with ease.

You moan and tuck your face into the sheets that smell like him, his arms bracing on either side of your head as his forearms rest next to yours, elbows bent and fists clenched. His hips swing effortlessly into yours, making a loud, crude slapping sound echo around the room. You moan almost pathetically into the sheets, turning to lay your face to the side so Kirishima can hear your noises of pleasure. He kisses your cheek sweetly before moving to your jaw and nibbling there gently, his tempo still quick and lethal. His tip, nestled deep inside, assaults your g-spot and you purr in content at the sensation, a gasp escaping you as he plunges in a little more forcefully. His hand wraps around your throat again, lifting your head up as his lips meet yours tenderly. His tongue plays with yours gently, a stark contrast to your hips. The hold on your throat is firm but also soft, and his thumb brushes along your jawline as his fingertips push into your racing pulse.

His hand leaves you and suddenly you’re on your back, Kirishima dragging your body up the bed so your head lays on the pillows. He smiles widely before he swoops in and his lips take yours again. His cock glides right back in, and you moan loudly into the kiss as the tip brushes your g-spot at a different angle than before. Your pussy quivers around him as he picks up the pace again, one arm folding under and around your waist and the other holding your chin, elbow digging into the mattress to keep himself propped up. His kisses trail from your lips to your chin and jaw, tongue sliding out and lathering your skin gently. Your eyes open as it slides down your throat, and the slight point of his canines poke against your skin. You quickly take his head in your hands, guiding his lips back to yours.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he murmurs against your lips, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, breath heavy as his exhausted hips keep up the erratic pace against yours. He whimpers as your walls constrict around him firmly.

“I’m close, too, Eiji,” you mumble, legs folding around his waist, your arms tangling around his torso with your hands on each shoulder blade, fingernails gripping his slick skin. One of his hands is pressed into the sheets by your shoulder, propping him up, and the other is going white on your hip from his tight hold.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he snarls, voice low and resonating with a growl. You watch his abdomen accordion as he flexes in and out of you with apparent effort, drops of sweat gliding down his broad chest. He throws his head back and whines as your nails dig into his strong shoulder muscles, chasing his imminent ecstasy.

Watching his body tremble and exert itself to bring you to your euphoria pushes you toward your own climax, and the feeling of his hand on your hip and the way his lip pinches between his teeth makes your eyes roll back and your body tense as you fall off the cliff, hurtling down into the thrashing waves of your orgasm. You call his name in a strangled cry, limbs clutching onto him for dear life as the pleasure shakes through you. His hips don’t stop; plunging further into you and pushing you harder under the tides of your climax. Your body shivers and you’re so out of it you don’t notice Kirishima’s thrusts becoming volatile, his arm that had once propped his torso above yours curling beneath your back to press your torso against his.

A growl of victory splits from deep in his throat as he approaches his own high, muscles tense in anticipation for the long-awaited prize. He shudders and suddenly his cuspids are lodged deep in your throat, and it feels like he’s just been run over by an eighteen-wheeler of ecstasy. His jaw shakes as his eyes close, abdomen convulsing as he spills deep into you in long, relentless spurts. The combination of his orgasm and his marking you almost make him pass out in an exhaustive pleasure.

Just as you’d come to from your orgasm, searing pain splices through you as Kirishima’s fangs split your skin and neck tissue, your jaw opening but no sound releasing. And just as fast as the pain had arrived, it’s replaced and you’re submerged back into the tidal waves of a new climax, making you clench and flex around Kirishima’s throbbing member that pulses into you.

His fingers clasp the skin of your hips so strongly the skin turns white, but your own nails lodge into his shoulders to grapple him to you; the both of you holding each other as if your lives depend on it. The sheets around you are twisted and damp from your sweat, but the two of you only seem to care about each other; drifting numbly and blissfully in your shared euphoria.

After a moment Kirishima’s body sags, sliding slightly to the side of yours as his muscles stop tensing and he stops physically releasing into you. His teeth still woven deep into your neck, he doesn’t dare move his face.

As the tides form your orgasm slowly recede, your body hums in a warm satisfaction and a certain numbness. Your hands rove over Kirishima’s expansive back soothingly, and he exhales with a content but tired moan in response.

Very timidly, Kirishima stretches his jaw to the maximum before he pulls away from your neck, leaving your head buzzing lightly. He licks the puncture wounds instantly, enzymes in his saliva helping to start the healing process while he cleans away the scarlet blood that beads there. He ghosts a kiss over your jaw before he pulls away, smiling warily as his eyes meet yours.

The primal amber and yellow shades are gone, leaving behind the warm red you’d fallen in love with. They cast over your face in total adoration, with a hint of fear.

He looks away as he slides out of you, his release immediately following and forming a wet puddle on his sheets. Your cheeks flush even though it isn’t your fault, but he just smiles and presses a kiss to one of them as if silencing your unnecessary embarrassment.

Kirishima reclines next to you, pulling the blanket at the foot of the mattress up to rest on top of the two of you. He collects you into his arms, your body weak and unprotesting. His legs entwine with yours, pressing every piece of skin he can to yours. He makes sure to be careful with your neck, kissing it gently once more before settling his face next to yours. The kiss makes the skin tingle and heat, a fuzzy warmth flooding your body as you smile shyly.

“I told you not to let me get near your neck,” Kirishima says softly as your eyes close, eyelashes brushing over his collarbone. “Do you know what this means, Y/N?” He tries again at your silence, thinking you don’t understand the severity of the situation. His fingertips run up and down your naked spine relaxingly.

“It means you need to work on your self-control,” you murmur, giggling quietly into his chest.

“Y/N, this isn’t a joke,” he says lowly, “I don’t kno-“

You cut him off. “It isn’t a joke, I know, Eijirou. It means we’re tied together, forever— meaning we, this, us— we’re permanent. We’re wolf-married or whatever the term is now, I know. You can never love another person again, and neither can I,” your hand rests on his pectoral, a finger tracing along his nipple so you have something to look at instead of his face. “If you can’t deal with that, I’m sorry, but I can. I’m yours, Kirishima, always have been, always will be. If you don’t want that, then I’m sorry but you just sealed your fate with mine and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Oh,” Kirishima exhales, blinking. The only light in the room is from the window above the desk, moonlight casting the bed in a dim white light. He shuffles, pulling your body closer to his, smiling into your hair with a stupidly happy grin. “I just wanted to make sure that’s what you want. I.. uh, I feel the same,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear giddily.

“Good,” you reply, eyes closing as you nuzzle your face closer to his warm heart.

It’s silent for a moment before Kirishima clears his throat gently. You peek one eye open, awaiting his words.

“Um… I love you, Y/N… a lot,” he says rather nervously, gulping softly as he pauses for a response.

“I love you too, Eiji,” you kiss his chest gently, sighing contently.

“And, uh, Y/N?”

“What, Eiji?”

“I’m glad it’s you who I’m wolf-married to.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

when he go from wolf to puppy 🥺 thank you for reading babies <3 & pls don’t be shy to let me know if you enjoyed!!

➥ masterlist

#so i read this the other day and i was like... this could be... werewolf kiri...#so i made it happen lol #idk if this is frowned upon like reposting old fics with new characters #but i wanted more kiri on my blog so this is whats happening lol #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima eijirou fic #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima fic #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha fic #mha x reader #mha smut #mha fic #my fics #my fics kiri

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x-stephanie-sinnz-x · 2 years ago

Text

A night out turns into a nonconsensual gangbang 2of4

Xavier turned into the parking lot of the restaurant and

the car was suddenly flooded with light. My face was flushed as the constant stimulation nestled between my legs continued. Xavier walked around and opened the car

door. I exited the car, made sure my skirt was straight, and walked holding tightly to Xavier’s arm. Each step I took caused juices to leak into my thong. I could feel that my thong was drenched and knew I was on the verge of another orgasm.

I hoped I would make it to the restroom inside the restaurant before it overcame me.

Inside the restaurant, we arrived just in time for the reservations. I asked if I could go to the restroom, Xavier refused as we were led to our table. Aa the waiter slid my chair out for me, I noticed that he was staring at my ass. His stares did not

escape Xavier’s eyes either and I noticed a smile on Xavier'’s face as I sat down and he instructed me to

remove my coat.

When my ass hit the chair, it intensified the pressure on my hard clit. I moved my ass

from side to side to try and relieve the intense pleasures I was feeling. I asked Xavier to let me go to the restroom and explained I was nearing another orgasm. He laughed and said I should order my meal first, and then I should go to the restroom. I looked

around for the waiter. He finally returned and took our drink orders. I fought to control the spasms I was

feeling in the walls of my pussy.

I worried that the fluid that poured from my cunt would soak through onto my skirt. I desperately

needed to have some relief and squirmed in my seat trying to be still as the waiter brought the drinks and

asked for the orders. Xavier intentionally ordered in a painfully, thoughtful fashion. As the waiter turned to me for my order, I was having troubled ordering and the waiter asked me to repeat the order.

My voice became low and husky as I lost my struggle and began having an orgasm as I was trying to

order. I could feel my face glowing red. I bit down on my lower lip and i gripped the edge of the table

with both hands. Xavier’s laughter thankfully turned the waiter’s attention to him, and Xavier ordered for me as I rushed to the restroom struggling not to scream aloud

from my second orgasm of the night.

I returned from the restroom, flushed, but composed.

As I sat down, I explained to Xavier about my sensitive clit and im easily aroused.

The waiter brought our dinner and after he left, Xavier asked me why I bother to wear a bra, being that I haven't got anything to hold up, he suggested I return to the restroom and once there, I should remove my bra.

I knew that this would expose myself out of the scoop top I was

wearing.

I returned from the restroom for a second time. As I sat down he smiled approvingly. My itty-bitty titties were almost out of my top. I was flush as I felt the stares of the other men in the restaurant and the scorns of their female guests.

After I was settled, Mike asked me to undo the first button of my top. I shook my head “No,” and he said that I should now undo the first two

buttons then. As I sat stunned at his

request, I felt the gush of fluid flow from inside my pussy. I was not

disappointed as Xavier pushed the third button and I could now feel my juices flowing between my legs. I hoped it would soak through my skirt. I shifted in my seat and slowly undid the top two buttons as he suggested.

Xavier achieved the look he was wanting; my little tities were almost completely exposed. Anyone standing over me would easily be able to view my areolas and the bases of my erect nipples. I tried

to keep my hand in front of the lower part of the top while I finished my meal. Xavier noted that each time I lean over to eat, he could see all my chest with no problem. Each time the waiter came to clear the

table, he stole a look at my tits. His trips to the table were probably more frequent than necessary and at

one point Xavier asked me to pull my top open slightly and let the waiter have a good look.

My excitement rose with my wetness between my legs. The waiter blatantly stared at my tiny breast. The waiter looked at Xavier, blushed and then hurried away.

At this point I was praying Xavier would take me somewhere and fuck me.

It was time to leave and he held my coat for me. I struggled to rise, my legs wobbly from the rush of stimulation. I was so fucking horny it spread from my head to my uterus. Xavier closed the first button to give me some relief as we exited the restaurant.

As we returned to their car, I pressed herself tightly against his’s body and let my top fall open

exposing my nipples to the cool air. Xavier opened the door for me and reached out and lightly cupped my

chest and brought each of my nipples into his mouth and gave them a tug. He released my breast as I slid into the car with anticipation of what he had in

store for me.

He started the car and commented on how horny I got him.

Xavier drove to a real sketchy part of town without touching me or speaking to me. I was confused on just how I would please him until he turned the car down a secluded alley and drove to the end, turned the car around and shut off the

engine.

Xavier ordered me to unzip his pants, take out his cock and suck it. I eagerly leaned over in the car and

did as I was told. I unzipped his pants and reached inside and freed his hard dick. I licked my

lips and slowly lowered my mouth over his dick and began to use my tongue over the tip as I pulled it in

and out of my mouth.

Xavier moaned and held my head with one hand, the

other hand reached over my back and pulled my skirt up around my waist. Once my skirt was out of the way, he pulled my thong down, and

started finger fucking my soaked cunt. He pounded harder

and harder in and out of my pussy causing me to groan as I continued to suck his cock holding it with

one hand.

I felt another orgasm building when suddenly the lights inside the car came on and I felt hands on my shoulders jerking me out of the car. I caught a glimpse of Xavier being similarly pulled from the car.

Xavier was struggling to free himself from the two gang

members holding his arms. He saw me being stood up by

two other gang members, thong around my thighs and skirt

above my waist. I was terrified and I saw Xavier punched in the stomach and doubled over. I tried to reach down for my thong, but was yanked back into a standing position but succeeded in pushing my skirt

down. I could see at least 5

or 6 black men between the ages of twenty to twenty-five

standing around me and my date.

Xavier was trying to catch his breath and I could see at least two men holding his arms behind his back.

My fate was no better. My arms were pulled behind my back by one of the men and I could not move

except to kick. The largest of the black men came and stood in front of me. He introduced himself as Big'D and asked me if I knew who I was with?

"I know his name is Xavier and we met on MySpace, that's all I know".

I told him to let me go when I saw Big'D’s cruel smile and his eyes fixated on the thong just below the

hem of my dress. Big'D turned to the men holding Xavier and instructed them to ask him if they could fuck his date. After all, Big'D explained, you're not even supposed to be in this hood and the others laughed. Xavier yelled obscenities

and threats at Big'D and was met with another blow to the abdomen.

Big'D told the men to ask him again and Xavier shook his head no. Then one of the men held him up and the second man drove his fist into Xavier’s jaw snapping his head

back. A trickle of blood came out of the corner of his mouth as Big'D asked him again if he could fuck his date.

Xavier didn't answer, and another blow was deliver to the nose, then another to the face, then the abdomen, the kidney. The man was beating Xavier bad. Finally Xavier mumbled “Yes,” to Big'D.

Big"D told Xavier to say it and

initially he refused but after two additional punches to the face, Xavier told Big'D to fuck me. Now that Big'D had Xavier’s permission, he turned his attention to me.

I weakly fought the man holding my arms as Big'D approached me. I was still horny as fuck. Big'D ordered me to my knees and told me since I liked to suck cock, I could suck his. The man holding me pushed me down to my knees. My red thong was stretched tightly around my legs just above the knees. As I was forced down, I could feel the juices in my cunt over flowing. Big'D unzipped his pants and took out his stiff, uncircumcised rod. The tip of BigD’s cock was right at my lips.

My eyes were wide at the shear size, it must have been at least twelve inches long and four inches around.

I smelled the gamey odor of his unwashed cock and was hesitant to open my mouth and take it. I saw Big'D nod at the men holding Xavier and one of them delivered a hard

kick to his groin sending him to the ground. Two or three men rained kicks into him, as he laid balled on the ground. Big'D casually informed me that Xavier’s torment would stop when I started sucking his dick.

I took his cock in my hand, opened my mouth and slowly took the

head of his rigid fuck stick into my mouth.

As promised, the men stopped kicking Xavier. Big'D grabbed my hair on each side of my head and pulled me toward him forcing his dick deep into my mouth.

I gagged as his dick hit the back of my throat. I thought I would suffocate and tried to pull away, but he held my head tight and worked his cock down my throat. I tried to relax and swallow as I accommodated his enormous black dick.

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ukiyo-jaem · 5 years ago

Text

NCT Dream Reaction to You Wearing a Short Skirt

Renjun

he was helping you clean out your old closet at your parent's house. both of you had just bought an apartment together so your parents left you the house keys, expecting all the moving hassle to be done when they come back next monday; a road trip being paid by their jobs.

jun spent his time sitting in your old bean bag occupying himself with your old journals and photo albums. "you went to a school with a uniform?" he asked and you looked to see him looking at your old school's photo album.

"wha- oh yeah." you breathed out a slight laugh and dug a little deeper into your closet. "speaking of uniforms." you chuckled and held up the plaid skirt to your body, looking into your mirror.

"i wonder if it still fits." your head leaned to the side. "im gonna try it on." you finally decided and walked to the bathroom and wasting no time. it fit perfectly...just...shorter than you remembered.

you were gonna take it off yet remembering your boyfriend that was sitting in your bedroom.

you tucked your graphic tee into the skirt and went back to your room, his gaze still stuck to your old photos. "so what do you think?" you saw him do a double-take, his eyes landing on your ass that was practically hanging out the bottom.

"it...it fits nice." he nodded, his hands setting the book down beside him on the floor.

"i remember i would get in trouble everyday because the teachers didnt know how to mind their stares." his answer was delayed as he swallowed hard. "i mean..." you noticed a more fidgety renjun as he thought for a moment. "i can't blame them." he whispered but it was enough for you to hear.

you smiled, walking closer to him and lowering yourself onto him so your legs were straddling his thighs; the fabric of the old skirt becoming bunched up at the top of your thighs.

your hands rested on his shoulders, his frame relaxing at your touch as his hands rested on your exposed thighs.

"you're so cute and blushy." you pinched his cheek and his smile fell. a more unsettling tone took place as his eyes seemed to get darker. he took your wrist and gripped your hand roughly, forcing your hand down to his now apparent bulge.

"and you're such a brat. you know what you were doing, baby." an airy laugh escaped his chest as your hand could feel him getting harder by the second.

"so...are we going to do something about this or are you going to keep grinding on my lap acting like i don't notice?"

Jeno

he was finally off and agreed to go on a small date to relax and unwind. "im going to go get ready." you said getting up and kissing his cheek. "alright. ill just wait for you here." he smiled and watch you walk off.

you wanted to do a coupley outfit today. you grabbed a tighter white t-shirt and a shorter pink plaid skirt with one of his oversized flannels. you walked down and he immediately almost started choking on the water he was drinking.

"isnt it so cute?" you asked as you did a little spin infront of him. yet, his response was just picking you up and holding you tightly as he walked back to the bedroom.

you didn't know he was going to react the way he did. jeno saw you in the short and flowy skirt and thought he saw red.

the coffee date seemed so distant as you were both in bed now, entangled in eachother. his hands would grip your thighs with such force it felt like he could break you in half if he really wanted to.

"you just look so good." his lips attacked your neck and painting it with dark hues. "i just can't control myself." your hands gripped and pulled at his hair; messiness setting in and making him look absolutely euphoric.

his hands got lost up your shirt and was just grabbing and pulling roughly. he couldn't take it anymore and just ripped your shirt down the middle, your chest now exposed, rising and falling quickly.

"you look so nice, babydoll." he fawned at you, his hand coming to brush your hair back out of your face.

"you should wear this kind of stuff more often." he winked, laying a more softer kiss against your lonely lips.

[you're mark]

Hyuck

all day...games...after breakfast...games...after lunch...games...after you fell asleep in his arms for nap, you woke up to the constant keyboard clicking...after dinner he was right back in his chair with the rest of the boys on a conference call on his phone; shouting following you down the hall and into the living room.

you were done though. you wanted to have your time with hyuck. it was your turn. you went to your dance bag, grabbing your old costume skirt from a previous dance competition. you went to the bathroom and changed quickly. you added the finishing touch which was one of his shirts; his weakness for seeing you in his clothes running through your revengeful mind.

no time was wasted as you went to the shared bedroom. "no go to the left, jae!" "the other left." your boyfriend yelled at his computer screen.

your soft steps went unnoticed until you were right next to him. you set your hand softly on his shoulder. he only looked at you for a second though. "hey, babe." he spaced back out, not even noticing your attire options.

"jaemin if i have to tell you one more time on where to go i am goi-" your fingertips grazed up the side of his neck, slowly tugging on his hair at the back of his head.

his eyes closed as he leaned his head back and let out a deep sigh. his hands became limp at the keyboard and his friends began calling out for him. you had gotten him exactly where you wanted him.

his gaze became more glazed over as both of you became caught up in each other. "im so lonely, hyuckie." you whined and his hand began trailing up the back of your thigh.

"you just had to ask." he smiled a little and his eyes finally caught his t-shirt hanging from your body.

he turned his chair and leaned forward to grab your body and put you on top of him. "LEE DONGHYUCK WHERE ARE YO-" "im busy. bye." and he hung up quickly as they tried to make him stop.

"now where were we?" he asked as his hand came to both sides of your face, guiding you to kiss him softly, hands then coming down to just go back up his shirt.

yet when he took his shirt off your body, he was met with a pleasant surprise. a white skirt laid bunched up at your hips. his hands came to your exposed ass and began forcibly grind you on his lap.

your soft touches drove him absolutely wild as he wanted to make you more vulnerable as the minutes ticked by.

yall shoulda known where I was bout to go with this...

Jaemin

you went and grabbed one of your skirts you had bought awhile ago and slipped it on with some thigh high socks. you went out and started to clean up a little bit. you began to tidy the living room where jae sat on the couch watching a random show he found.

you bent over and began to clean off the coffee table. "oh sorry, am i in the way?" "a little." he said, craning his neck around you to continue watching the show.

you wanted to face palm and walk off. yet, you were going to push on. you grabbed your phone, checking random emails as you sat in the seat next to him. "hey, jae?" you asked and he only tilted his head toward you, his pinkish hair being contained by a black baseball cap.

"im gonna go out with jeno for a little bit. i'll be back in a couple hours." you said and grabbed your keys from infront of him and trying to walk over his legs.

his arm flew forward and wrapped around your body, pulling you down towards him quickly.

"you're not going anywhere dressed like that, princess." he said, gaze looking down at you in his lap.

"well i want to do something then." you sat up in his lap and crossed your arms over your chest. "then do something. but you're not going to go do something with my friend dressed like this." his touch slowly going up under your skirt.

"well come on, princess. do something." his hands then went behind his head. a smirk sat on his lips and he felt as if he won. he really did and at this point you were desperate.

"please, jaemin. just touch me." you pouted and he wanted to coo at your cute ways but he bit his lip and waited. "i don't think you need me ye-" you grabbed his hand and put it on your clothed heat.

you grinded on his hand desperate for some friction. you were ready for him but he didn't want to give you that satisfaction yet.

he wanted to keep you in this skirt forever and you be his little princess that only he could do this to.

he froze in his position, his eyes locked onto his hand that disappeared under your tiny skirt.

his other hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down towards his lips where he was ready to give you what you were wanting and waiting for.

Chenle

this baby wouldn't know what to do when he saw you in your tiny skirt.

he would feel turned on definitely but didn't want to act out of line and touch you if this wasn't your clear and true intention.

you would have to guide him a little bit on what to do but once he started going, he found it hard to stop. you were a new drug-like anomaly he was completely addicted to.

this was still new to him so you doing this for the soul purpose of getting this kind of reaction...well...he didn't mind it all too much.

he asked you for permission to touch you even when you guided his hands onto you.

"can...can i-" "you don't have to ask lele. just do what feels right." you smiled a little, beginning to kiss up his neck softly. "even if you know it's completely wrong."

boyfriend lele vibes are strong in this one uwu i just had to put it in

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theravencawsatmidnight · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Chains

Pt 8. Ending

Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment.

Nsfw. Virgin reader. Vanilla

Tags. @galagcica @haikyuu-but-low-iq @kozushiki @mocha-babes @kayisweird @lunebabie @zopzoop @derpeedoo

You were sitting on Kyos lap facing him holding his cheeks kissing him all over his face. Kyo had his hands on your rear trying his best not to tug at your panties and just kiss you . He was still thinking about what happened earlier , and you could tell. His kissing was getting sloppy .

You pulled away to sit on his fingers and lap giving him a shy pouty look. “Kyo…”

“Im sorry sweetie.. its just.”

You kissed him on the lips. “Just nothing. Wanna feel good… wanna feel good with Kyo..”

He sighed kissing you back giving you the ‘ok’. You could feel his fingers along your slit travelign up and down lightly in slow strokes. He chuckled at the little whimpers you made no matter how hard you tried to hide them from him.

“Can i have my hand back sweetie?”

“No..”

He smiled, kissing you again and again while his fingers worked on getting you wet for him. You leaned into him sighing lightly at the feeling, holding his sleeve, kissing it and rubbing against his fingers whining every time they slipped over your clit. Kyo kissed at your neck pulling you closer to him.

“Sweetie.. Lift up for a second”

You held him tight moving up so he could help you out of your panties and sit you on his lap again. You just had his old jersey on now but he quickly got rid of that too, tossing it with the other garments.

“K-kyo.”

“My pretty girl” he pulled you to him, slipping another hand under you again to slip a finger in you just to be stopped short. “Sweetie? Are you a virgin?”

“Yes i uhm..i still want to , just be gentle please..”

Kyotani did not know how to process this for a minute, every girl who threw themselves at him was always some slut. He's never been asked to take it slow before. “Okay sweetie, if at any point you wanna stop, tell me.” he kissed you and slipped another finger in you. The rings hit your flesh creating goosebumps.

You squeezed him tight getting used to the new feeling, eventually he got you to slowly grind against his fingers and helped you reach your first orgasm helping you through it. You pawed at his lap watching his erection get bigger each time.

“ i think.. Im ready”

“Your sure?” he asked , removing his fingers from you to see your juices dripping off of them. He bit his lip and before he could say anything you were taking his erection out and rubbing it.

“Swee!!..-”

You leaned into him giving him big eyes. “Im sure Kyo..”

He kissed you as he gripped your rear lifting you up. “Okay sweetie. Tell me if you want to stop okay?”

“I will Kyo..”

Kyotnai had nails dug into his sleeves while he lowered you down on him. He was hurting you , he stopped a couple times to ask if you were okay and you always nodded between shaking breaths assuring him you were fine and to keep going. It took him a few minutes to sit you back down on his lap. You cried when he broke through. Biting his shoulder drawing blood. He held your body close coaching you through it just like he did for the tattoo. It helped.. It really really helped.

It started out with you on his lap and ended with you on his bed and Kyo on top of you finishing on your stomach. He squeezed you panting hard trying not to put his weight on you too much. You giggled kissing his head and he laughed too. He never wanted to leave you, not ever.

Kyo helped you clean up and asked if he could get you anything to help make you more comfortable. You jokingly asked for a stuffed animal expecting him to not have one but he did in fact have one. A old wolf plush and a Sendai Frogs plush he pulled outta his closet. Kyotani helped you get dressed in his boxers and one of his shirts before putting you to bed. He kissed your head watching you drift off.

“Night sweetie”

“Night kyo..”

Kyotani left to get dressed and to throw your clothes in the wash. He sat on the dryer just listening to the washer for a minute. So much has happened over a few days for him. Multiple times he thought he was going to lose you , he still had no idea how you stayed with him. He was grateful to have you, grateful Yahaba made up with him, grateful his business was working and was hopeful for the future. He returned to you soon after the clothes finished to place them next to the bed, he got in behind you wrapping his arms around you trying to fall asleep. He was not looking forward to the morning,

You woke up first because of your alarm and the sound of excited dogs. Your body was sore but you did not mind too much. Kyo squeezed you in his sleep and you giggled kissing his arm all over.

“Kyooo…gotta get up..”

“Skip sweetie..” he nuzzled his face into your neck sighing heavy

“I gotta.. Draw my entry for the Gallery though, and what will i do if i skip?”

“Hang out at my job with me of course. “ he teased nipping your neck.

You sighed turning over and kissed his chest.

“What gallery?”

“My school is participating in this gallery at the local art building in town. My teacher asked if i would join in, im hoping.. I get picked up.”

“Picked up?” he asked you, moving your hair from your face.

“I want to graduate with a job already lined up, im hoping someone will like my designs enough to want to partner with me to sell them on clothes.” you nuzzled into his chest. “But im nervous too cuz.. Business people just see money”

“Where is this gallery again Sweetie?”

“Up the street from Mattsuns shop” you rubbed your eyes and Kyo got a grin on his face.

“Can i come?”

“Of course!” you hugged him tight and he kissed your head.

“Dress code?”

“I think so but.. I dont think its mandatory”

Ho ho ho…

Your phone buzzed again and you whined loud. “Kyoooo let em up…”

He just laid down on top of you . “five more minutes”

You played with the dogs for a bit petting each one and giving them kisses on the nose, you even shared your breakfast with them when Iwaizumi was not looking. Kyo had washed your clothes but you wanted to wear his, the pants were too long so you made them into shorts and picked out a random band tee you tied under your chest and found your shoes in the living room. God you were so cute in hi clothes what the fuck.

He couldn't stay long though. Kyotani was greeted with several texts and calls from Yahaba ordering him to get to his place immediately. He gave you a kiss and promised he would be at the show for you and left. Iwaizumi brought you to school and he left for work to see Oikawa had opened with no problems.

Kyotani made it too Yahabas house to be greeted by him in the door, arms folded and foot tapping. Kyotani rolled his eyes, noticing the extra car parked out front. Bokuto was already here. He walked into the house past Yahaba to see Bokuoto sitting at the table trying not to look at Kyotani. He sat down across from him and Yahaba met in the middle between them.

“So explain… what happened.” he said, rubbing the irritation in his face.

“Well., i was out getting somethings and i saw Mad Dog, and i just i dont know. Got upset, all i could think about what the Tourney and the accident.” Bokuto rubbed his eyes and ran hid hands through his hair. “I hit him first Yahaba”

“And you?” Yahaba looked over to Kyo.

“I hit him back” he took in a deep breath sitting back in the chair to rub his sleeve.

Yahaba rubbed between his eyes. “At least no one saw it…”

“y/n was with me”

“.....what?”

“Its true…” Bokuto added

“SO YOU JUST FOUGHT IN FRONT OF HER!”

“I almost punched her Yahab jesus christ, i still feel awful about it”

“She stayed with you?”

“Yes, she did, i dont know how but can we please fix this . i need to go to work and catch y/n’s art show”

“Is she okay Kyotani”

“She is now.” he looked away rubbIng his head. “I fucking hate myself.”

“Kyotani…” Bokuto said. “Im sorry, i let my emotions get the better of me and i should have more control than that. Akaashi gave me one hell of a lecture when i got home. I don't want to fight again.”

“I dont either”

Yahaba was still hung up on you putting yourself between these two and coming out without a scratch. Fuck you really were special.

“So can we agree to move on.” he finally asked them.

“Yes”

“Mhm”

“Good. shake hands and get out of my house.”

The two got up shaking hands and they both felt a wave of relief wash over them. Finally.

Back at the college everyone was eyeing your outfit but you did not give one fuck. Yuki and Kii paid you no mind and you spent most of the day in the art room with a towel of crumbled up sketches in a trash bag neck to you. Why was this so hard? You signed in to your arm looking at the empty canvas, lightly tracing over your red panda tattoo.

“Mmm……”You traced some more getting an idea. It was different, new, and stood out. Two opposites.

At The Dog House Kyotani had finally gotten there to see Oikawa running the front and Iwaizumi putting clothes out. He told them everything was fine now and about the gallery show you were in. both men were excited to go and Kyo even texted Mattsun about it.

“Are you gonna wear a suit for once ?” Kawa asked Kyo

“Uhm no, no im not.”

“Why not!!!”

“Because i want to stand out when i tell y/n i want her to partner with me at the shop”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa both got very big smiles and Kyo rolled his eyes, he couldn't help but smile too . he was so ready for tonight, to see your face and your reaction. He was going to tell you he loved you too.

It was time for the Gallery and you were already inside setting up your space. You had to change clothes and put on a black dress with boots. Kyotanis clothes neatly tucked away in your bag. You were so happy with the finished sketch you loved it so much, you hoped Kyo did too , you also hoped someone would want to buy it ..

People were starting to come in and you quickly set everything up when your teacher came over.

“y/n, its going to be lovely, this is such a fancy high established place i have no doubt someone will want to pick you up”

“Thank you.. Heh.. i hope soo….”

Things were going good. People loved your piece and you got compliments on it, not many people understood its meaning or how you came to the conclusion to draw these two things together but you loved it. No one made offers though, unfortunately. You just wanted to see Kyo .. where was he?

“You look ridiculous Kawa” Mattsun said.

“The invite said SUITS!” he yelled at them as he parked his car.

“It also said not mandatory” Iwaizumi said getting out with his friends

Kyo got out stretching giving all these fancy people a smirk as they passed, hands on their chest gasping at the sight of him and his friends.

Everyone had regular clothes on, Oikawa was in a suit.

Kyotani was in ripped jeans, black boots and his shops shirt.

Oikawa was in a fancy black suit.

Mattsun was in skater clothes showing off his many tattoos

Iwaizumi was in jeans and a punk rock shirt.

“Ready ?” he asked his friends as he cracked his knuckles.

Everyone said yes and Kyotani could not wait to get inside this fancy place.

You were sitting by your art staring at all the people, everyone had stopped coming over to ask about it. No one was interested. You wanted to leave but you were required to stay till the night was done. You sighed checking your phone when you heard a very loud gasp.

“Oh my god…”

“You must have the wrong place…”

“This place is not for you lot”

“Ouch, im just here to see my girlfriend”

You got the biggest smile jumping out of your seat. “Kyoooo!!!”

People looked back and you waved. Kyotani pushed his way through and Oikawa apologized awkwardly to everyone as him and his friends past through. Kyo picked you up hugging you tight kissing your chest and setting you back down.

“Hows my happy girl”

“Super good now!” you squeezed him and said hello to everyone.

Mattsun checked on his tattoo on you and Iwai and Kawa said hello.

“Sweetie anybody pick you up yet?”

“No.. i .. i dont think people like it”

“Where is it ?”

You took his hand taking him and his friends back over to your space. His heart thumped when he saw it. Holy fuck. It was a very large drawing of a wolf and a happy red panda. The wolf was standing and looking straight on and the red panda was between its front legs with its front paws up looking very happy.

You leaned on Kyo hugging his sleeve waiting for him to say something. Mattsun knew instantly you were inspired by his style, he even saw his name next to yours for credits/ inspiration. Oikawa was speechless for once in his life and Iwaizumi was watching his friend with a big smile. Good for you Mad Dog.

“Sweetie…. “

“Do you like it ? its … it us heh.”

“I fuckin love it”

“Really?!”

“Sweetie” he picked you up again and kissed your lips not caring who was staring. “ i love you y/n. I want you to partner with me in my shop. I want to spend my life with you.”

“KYO!!!” you wiggled in his grip till he put you down. You whined grabbing his face to kiss him all over. “ i love you too!! Yes yes!!!”

“And ill buy this art y/n” Mattsun told you.

You looked over and he smiled taking out his checkbook. “Thank you for putting my name on it, im touched.”

Everything was working out for you, nothing could be better.

The years went on, you agreed to move in with Kyo after you finished up school and used Mattsuns money to start up your designs with Kyo in his shop. He put your name on the brand making it yours as well. You made cute hoodies with ears and dresses along with cute animal bags. Kyotani still made his punk clothes and he still had his friends working with him. Mattsun had your art up in his shop and Bokuto visited regularly to ask how you were and so did Yahaba. Everything was perfect. Well. almost perfect.

Kyo was at his register going over inventory. It was after hours and no one was there but him and you. You skipped over sitting on the register giggling.

“Im almost done sweetie”

“It will only take a second!!!!”

He sighed looking up to see you holding a sketch book with three tiny garments on them, two looked to be boys clothes and the last one a girl.

“So you wanna sell kids clothes?” he asked, taking the book and standing up looking it over.

“Well … i was hoping we could use them for our kids”

“Sweetie we dont ha-........................................” he dropped the sketchbook looking at you,

You giggled, rubbing your stomach. “We do now!!!!”

Stick around for the sequel!!!

Thank you for enjoying this story with me ❤️ i love this fic the very most it has a special place in my heart. Thank you for reading .

#PinkChains #kyotani x reader #kyotani 💕

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