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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

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BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party.

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,”

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

“i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound.

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body.

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing.

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver.

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching. the look on his face is priceless—like he’s not sure if he’s about to follow a dream or walk into his worst nightmare. perfect, you think.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different.

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting.

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe.

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible.

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a full out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up.

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough.

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips.

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting.

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed.

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening.

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes.

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.”

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control.

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window.

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open.

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body.

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.”

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you.

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something.

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch.

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right,

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?”

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind.

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick.

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell.

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm.

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers.

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone.

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace.

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear. “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else.

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes.

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes.

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb.

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him.

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you.

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you.

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of her attitude that only made him want you more.

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this.

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place.

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties

5K notes · View notes

mafiadad5 · 3 months ago

Text

cyber sex || Lee haechan

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ now playing- cyber sex: doja cat

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Audioguy!haechan x fem!reader

ִ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Genre/ warnings: smut, college au, 18+ mdni!, needy sub haechan/ soft dom reader, cyber sex, unprotected sex, praising, auralism, creampie ig?, oral (fem receiving), marking (if you squint), begging. Kinda nerdy looking haechan… Lmk if I miss anything.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Wc- 8.2k

authors note- omg… lmk what you think guys. Part 2 maybe I have some ideas…👀. No proof read cus lol. I hope you enjoy! <3

══════════════════════════

One day your friend joked to you and told you about these corny little audio guys that were on sound cloud. You were captivated to say the least, and curiosity filled your brain so that night you found yourself on sound cloud searching. Most of them were very laughable like your friend suggested, but then you came across this one profile.

"hcillusion119." You muttered out loud, biting your lip in curiosity as you clicked on the profile.

The first thing you noticed was instead of one of those anime boy banner things, it was just black with his username splat in the center. Ok, so far so good. The next thing that you noticed was how the profile description were just the words: "just listen, you won't regret ;)"

You giggled to yourself from how full of himself this guy was, so you decided to listen to an audio, expecting to laugh just like the other times, but this one was different. His voice wasn't what you had expected, it was whiny, but not in a high-pitched, irritating way. There was something desperate in the way he guided the listener through every step, an intensity that hooked you in. You had to admit, this was nothing like what you heard previously.

After the first audio you thought you would be done with it, but it kept creeping on your mind, causing you to go back to the one you were most familiar with, but after a while you started exploring his other audios and soon found yourself subscribed. No one knew you were into this, and you were too embarrassed to even play his audios if anyone was in the same proximity as you, this was your little secret— he was your little secret.

"Hey guys. We're gonna be doing something a bit different today, so just sit back and listen to me, okay?"

You sat there quietly, your body relaxing as his smooth voice seeped into your ears. It felt like he was speaking directly to you, and you couldn't help but nod along as if he could see you.

"I just want to start off by saying that we've reached 20k followers up here. I'm very grateful for all of you guys and I'll make sure to put out great content. That being said, to show my gratitude I will be hosting a little giveaway, or I guess it's like that. I want to pick one of you to have a private call with me on insta. Crazy huh? Only the best for you guys. To enter, all you have to do is comment on this post what you like about my content...and please, don't be weird... joking haha. The winner will get a private message tomorrow at 8pm. Good luck."

An embarrassing smile painted your smile as you typed out your comment on the post. You knew you probably weren't gonna win, and honestly you weren't even sure you could handle it if you did win, but something in you burned at the thought of what could happen—what it would be like to hear his voice in real time, just for you.

It was impossible to focus on anything else the next day, you even made an anonymous insta account just incase you won. The time went agonizingly slow, you honestly thought you couldn't wait any longer, but finally it was time.

You sat on your bed after a long day of class and work, checking your notification center obsessively, heart racing with both hope and dread.

8:05 came, then 8:10, and still nothing. By 8:15 you were ready to give up, the little spark of hope you had starting to flicker out. Just as you were about to close the app, your phone buzzed, a bright orange message appearing at the top of your screen.

hcillusion119- hey, sorry for the late text, I'll make it up to you when we call, but I want to let you know that you won.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the notification, your heart leaping into your throat. No way. It had to be too good to be true. You fumbled with your phone, nearly dropping it as you jumped up in shock. After pacing around your room for a solid five minutes, trying to wrap your mind around it, you finally opened the message.

unknown825: omg tysm TT

hcillusion119: no, thank you :)

hcillusion119: will you plz choose a date and time?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you considered your options, a thousand scenarios racing through your mind. You could cancel, let someone else, someone braver, take the opportunity. Instead, you found yourself typing.

unknown825: umm, well are you available tonight at 10?

There. You've done it, now there was no turning back.

hcillusion119: yea im available tonight. you're not very patient are you lol? what's your insta so I can call?

unknown825: I just like to get things done. my insta's the same as my user on here.

hcillusion119: ok, did you get my dm?

unknown825: yes, I'll talk to you then.

You barely registered your response before throwing your phone onto the bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it. This was real. It was actually happening. You had less than two hours before the call, and the weight of it started to settle on you. What if you said something dumb? What if your voice shook? What if you just... froze?

The minutes went by slowly, agonizingly. You checked the time over and over, becoming more and more nervous with each glance.

9:45... almost time. You laid down in bed, trying to calm your racing thoughts, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

9:59.

You took a deep breath, staring at the screen as you scrolled through Instagram, pretending to distract yourself, but your heart was in your throat.Any moment now, your phone would light up, and you'd hear his voice—this time just for you.

Incoming call from hcillusion119

You took a deep breath, letting it ring for a moment before picking up, the silence so intense you could almost hear a pin drop.

Then his voice broke through.

"Hey."

A chill ran down your spine, sharper than you'd expected. Hearing his voice in your ears felt different this time—more personal, more intimate.

"Hi."

Your voice came out low, almost shy. You sat the phone on your stomach, unsure of what to do with your hands. The awkward smile on your face wasn't helping you feel any less flustered.

"How are you doing today?" he asked, his tone casual but warm.

"I'm good, exhausted. What about you?"

"I'm good too," he replied. "tired as well."

"Why are you tired?" You responded.

"Well, I just moved... like yesterday, so."

"Oh, cool. Where did you move to?"

"I can't tell you that." he said with a teasing edge to his voice.

"Oh, right... I guess I understand."

The conversation wasn't flowing like you'd imagined. It was awkward. You questioned why you were so nervous in the first place.

"What's your name?" His voice dropped lower and softer, catching you off guard.

"I can't tell you." you mimicked, trying to match his playful tone.

"Ahh, I see what you're doing. Well unknown825, why are you so tired?"

"I had school and work, so I'm pretty worn down."

"School?" He sounded curious, his tone lighter.

"Yeah, I'm in college. You're not like... an old man right?"

He laughed, the sound soft and genuine.

"No, I'm in college too."

"Oh cool."

Silence fell between you again, the awkward kind that made your heart race for no reason. You didn't want to keep bombarding him with boring questions, but you also didn't want the conversation to just end. Still, you felt that sinking feeling that maybe you should've canceled after all.

"So, what's your favorite audio?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Stress Relief."

"Ah, who would've thought?" He chuckled, his voice dropping an octave. "So you like to be talked through it, huh?"

You hummed in response, turning onto your stomach as you clutched the phone.

"Do you like being talked through it?" You asked, your tone slightly teasing.

The line went quiet, and for a second, you wondered if you pushed too far, but then you heard him lick his lips, a small noise you wouldn't have caught if you hadn't been listening so intently.

"Yeah, I do." he admitted, voice deeper now. "Can't help it when I hear a pretty voice like yours."

Your cheeks flushed as a smile crept across your face. "So what are you saying? You want me to talk you through it?"

"I never said that." he interrupted quickly. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to handle it, Miss Stress Relief."

He laughed softly.

"No, you're the one who wouldn't be able to handle it." You shot back, your voice in a mocking tone.

"Are you trying to challenge me?" His tone shifted, there was an edge to it now.

You hummed again, licking your lips before replying. "I never said that,"

You could feel the tension building, the invisible line between the two of you tightening with each word exchanged. You were both teasing each other.

"but I know you want me to." you continued, voice low. "If you asked nicely... maybe I would."

Silence.

The only thing you could hear was his breathing—slow, but heavy. Even that sounded beautiful, like every part of him was designed to captivate you. You waited, the pressure coiling tighter in the pit of your stomach. Then his voice came again, softer this time.

"Talk me through it."

But there was a command in his tone.

"I said nicely."

There was a pause, and you could almost picture him struggling with the request before he spoke again.

"Ca—Can you please talk me through it?"

"That's more like it." You whispered, smirking. "See what happens when you listen? Now... are your pants down? If they aren't, pull them down."

You waited, hearing the soft rustle of fabric on the other end. He was listening, and the thought made your pulse quicken. Thrill ran through your body, you had never done anything like this before.

"What do you want me to do next?" His voice was quieter now, the assertiveness from before completely gone.

"I want you to touch yourself, but not too fast, okay?"

You paused, waiting for his breathing to change—waiting for him to obey.

"Are you doing it?"

"Yeah." he breathed out, almost as if the word escaped him unintentionally.

"Good. Now, I want you to keep going, but don't finish until I tell you to. Can you handle that?"

There was a pause, his breath quickening.

"I can handle it." he replied, though his voice wavered just a bit.

"We'll see."

You could feel the heat radiating through the connection, charging the atmosphere around you. His breathing was heavier now, more ragged, each inhalation betraying just how hard he was trying to please you.

"Tell me how it feels." you encouraged, your voice silky and low.

"It feels... so good." he stammered, his words interrupted by tiny gasps. "I want you. I want to feel you. I want you here with me." He spoke again.

A shiver ran down your spine at the vulnerability in his tone. The yearning in his voice made you only think about him—how he sounded, how he felt.

"Touch yourself harder, let me hear you." You whispered.

He followed your command, his voice becoming strained and desperate Each moan a mix of pleasure with restraint, and you could practically visualize—lost in passion, chasing the edge of that sweet release.

"Are you going faster?" You asked, your heart pounding with anticipation.

"No... I- I won't until you tell me to." he responded, voice trembling, you could hear the struggle in his words.

"You're such a good boy. You can go faster." You could feel a rush of satisfaction at how he gave himself over to you.

"Fuck." He let out in a breathy moan. You could hear his hand moving faster, driving you to insanity knowing how desperate he was for you.

"Just like that." you murmured. "You want it, don't you?"

He gasped softly, almost pleadingly. "Yes, I want it so bad."

Before you could speak again, he interrupted. "I don't know how much longer I can hold back." His voice full with need.

"You can handle it, right? Well.. that's what you told me." You reminded him, your tone teasing. "Were you lying to me?

"No, but—" You could hear the struggle in his voice, the way his breaths quickened as he fought against the sensation.

"Please." A groan reached your ears, confirming your suspicion. "Please, I need—" His voice was whiny, but it was obvious he was trying to keep it in.

"Need what?" you interrupted, a smile on your face. "Permission?"

"Yes." He responded immediately, his breath rigid.

"You're close, aren't you?" you teased. "Beg for it. Use that voice and tell me how much you want it."

His breathing became frantic as he pleaded. "I want to cum so badly, please. I can't hold back anymore. I'll do anything you want... just please, let me finish."

You hummed softly, his voice seeping into your ears. His voice was a mix of desperation, coming out in broken gasps.

"Please... I'm begging you." The urgency in his tone echoed through your mind making you give in.

"Finish for me." You said softly.

The sound that escaped him was pure ecstasy. His voice melting into a series of gasps and whimpers— loud and desperate, sent shivers through you.

You wanted to be there, to feel him come undone against you.

"You did so well."

"Thank you." he murmured softly, trying to catch his breath, coming down from his high.

"Well... it's pretty late, I should get going." You spoke.

"Yeah cool, I understand. Have a good night." He responded, still sounding a bit winded.

"You too."

And with that you hung up, turning off your phone completely before closing your eyes, drifting to sleep as you thought about what just happened.

══════════════════════════

A week had passed and you still couldn't shake that night. You didn't know whether to feel disappointed or proud of the night you had with a complete stranger on the internet. It was truly something you had never done before.

Walking into class you noticed an unfamiliar face talking to your professor as you walked to your seat. He was cute, you can admit that, but his sudden appearance already irritated you. You groaned as you saw your professor point your way, and the stranger started walking toward you. Currently you're working on a project that requires a partner. Luckily, you ended up working alone due to the odd number of students, but you could tell that was going to change as he walked towards you.

Your eyes immediately dropped to your phone, hoping if you pretended not to see him, maybe he would just walk past, but of course you're not that lucky.

"Hey, I'm Haechan." His voice pulled you from your thoughts. "The professor told me to partner with you for the project."

Your heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. His voice—it was familiar, uncomfortably familiar. You felt a strange chill creep up your spine, but you quickly brushed it off. It couldn't be him, right?

"Hi, I'm Y/n." You replied, your voice coming out more clipped than you intended.

His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he looked at you in silence for a moment.

"Do you know what you're doing, or am I gonna have to teach you?" You didn't mean to speak harshly, but your words came out sharper than expected.

"I know what I'm doing." He answered, his voice low as he took a seat beside you.

You swear your blood ran cold every time you heard him speak. You listened to your fav audio guys voice a lot, you couldn't lie and say that it wasn't almost the same. It made you feel a little weirded out, only making you think of the night even more every time he spoke, but you just tried to ignore it and focus.

"So, we need to do a few things by the end of next week." You spoke.

He nodded but remained silent, his eyes locked on you in a way that made you feel exposed. His lips parted slightly as he continued to stare.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the tension. "I don't like strangers coming in my house, can I come over yours to work when we don't have class?"

"Yes, that works. Can I have your phone so I can give you my number? You know, to keep in touch." He asked.

You nodded in agreement, taking your phone and opening the phone app, handing it to him.

You looked away for one second, expecting him to quickly type in his number, but instead, you saw him swipe across the screen, heading straight for your Instagram.

"What are you doing?" You asked, irritation in your voice as you snatched your phone from him.

"I was tryna give you my insta like I said." He answered defensively, voice cracking slightly as he stared at you offensively.

"You said number." You replied, narrowing your eyes.

"Well I meant insta." He responded hastily, putting out his hand demandingly.

"Who do you think you are?" You snapped. "You're going to give me your number, it's way more practical." You handed him the phone again, this time watching him like a hawk as he slowly typed in his number, his eyes darting up at you now and then with that same suspicious glint.

"See how easy it is when you listen." You grinned, Haechan looking at you with glistening, suspicious eyes as you started typing on your computer.

"Why do you have SoundCloud and Spotify?" He asked suddenly, staring at your phone screen.

"What?" You hummed, not breaking contact from your computer.

"Why do you have SoundCloud AND Spotify. You only need one music app, right?" He asked, emphasizing his words sassily.

You turned to him, rolling your eyes, exasperated. "Why are YOU so noisy."

At this point you were clearly irritated and just wanted to get your work done, alone.

"Do you have something to hide?" He asked, leaning a bit closer, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he stared up at you.

You looked into his annoyed before sighing and turning back to your computer.

"I just listen to unreleased music up there, happy?" He hummed in response, not entirely convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to his phone.

"Are you busy tonight? I need to come over so we can discuss a new plan and get started." You didn't break any contact from your computer, typing steadily.

"You're not very patient are you?" He chuckled, scrolling through his phone.

"I just like to get things done." You responded.

He looked up from his phone, eyebrow raised as he stared at you suspiciously, as if he heard that line before.

"Yeah, that's fine. Come over at 6pm, I'll text you the address." He answered, looking down at his phone again.

"Ok, now get off your phone and give me your email so we can start working." You said.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes but complied, turning off his phone as he rattled off his email address.

══════════════════════════

You stood at his apartment door, annoyed as no one came to let you in. You turned around, getting ready to leave. The day had already been stressful, and now you were almost at boiling anger.

"Where are you going?"

His voice stopped you in your tracks. You didn't want to turn around, didn't want to acknowledge him—everything in you screamed to leave, but something about his voice pulled you back.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. Haechan stood in the doorway, his frame leaning casually against the doorframe, eyebrows raised as if he hadn't just kept you waiting.

"What took you so long?" You walked toward him, your tone sharp as you fought to keep your composure.

"I was jerking off." He said sarcastically, a cocky smirk landing on his face as you looked at him with annoyance and disgust.

"Ah!" He yelped suddenly, launching himself toward you in mock attack, his hands making an exaggerated gesture as if he was going to grab you.

"Stop that was disgusting Haechan, what the fuck is wrong with you, seriously?" You asked, voice in obvious irritation.

He rolled his eyes, moving out the way so you could walk in. "Learn to take a joke."

Even though you had just got there he was already getting on your nerves.

You walked into his studio apartment, even though it was small, he made it look quite spacious and comfortable. His room was quite dark, purple and blue led lights surrounding his desk that sat next to his messily made bed, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.

"It's so dark and scary in here." You joked trying to shake off your earlier discomfort, setting down your belongings and taking a seat on his bed.

Haechan said nothing, his face unreadable as he sat down in his desk chair, spinning it slightly to face you.

"So, why do you have a big microphone and a gaming headset?" you asked, pointing to the equipment scattered across his desk.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... why the big setup? You recording something? Streaming? Or... something else?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze darting to the microphone and then to the floor. "I just like good audio." He muttered defensively.

"Good audio for what?"

For a moment, he said nothing, only licking his lips as if buying time.

"Huh?" You spoke in a mocking tone, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. "You can't answer?"

"God, why are you so noisy geez." He spoke defensively, getting up from his chair and snatching the cord from the computer, grabbing the microphone, throwing it in a drawer with more force than necessary.

"Oh, so when you ask questions I'm supposed to just answer, but when I ask you it's different?" You stood up, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

"Yes." He crossed his arms too, mimicking you with a smug expression.

"Do you have something to hide Haechan?" You asked softly, inching closer to him, his sparkling eyes looking into yours as you moved closer.

"Ha, no." He chuckled lightly, though it came out shaky, his shoulders stiffening as he backed up against the desk, knocking into it with a soft thud.

"Shit." He whispered, turning around quickly, scrambling to pick up all the items that fell, growing startled as he turned back around to see you standing in front of him.

"Why are you so nervous Haechan?" You murmured faintly, your voice drifting into his ears, making his mind race.

"I'm- I'm not" His voice cracked, betraying him as he forced out a chuckle, but it died quickly.

"You sure about that?" you whispered, leaning in just a bit more, your eyes locked on his. You could practically feel his pulse as it quickened at the base of his neck.

His eyes flickered down to your lips before darting back up.

"You act like you're so tough, like you got everything figured out, but here you are, all jumpy and flustered." You teased.

Haechan let out a slow breath, his hands grabbing the edge of his desk, trying to hold himself up. "You think you know me?" His voice was low, barely more than a growl as he tried to regain control of the situation.

You smirked, backing up just a little, giving him space to breathe. "I'm starting to get the picture."

He stood there, silent for a moment, watching you with wary eyes. The tension between you was heavy, but before either of you could say anything more, his phone buzzed on the desk.

He glanced at the screen, then back at you, something unreadable passing over his face. "You gonna stay and work, or you leaving?"

"Let's just get this done." You said, taking a deep breath, breaking eye contact as you turned toward the bed.

The room felt different now, charged with something unsaid. You settled back onto the bed, pulling your laptop onto your lap, feeling Haechan's gaze on you.

"Hurry up and pull out your laptop. I don't wanna be here all night." You spoke, turning to him.

His tongue grazed the inside of his mouth as he looked at you with irritated eyes. "Ok."

══════════════════════════

It had been over a month since you and Haechan have become friends, and you could say that he was bearable now— ok, you were kinda in love with him. How could you not be? His witty personalty, his face, his voice it was hard to not fall for him, especially when you saw him everyday. You and him were always together, hanging out mostly everyday, even after the project, so it wasn't a surprise when you got a text from him.

hey, can you come over im boreddd?

yeah

doors unlocked, just come in.

"Welcome home." He joked as you walked in.

You smiled, setting down your stuff at the door, removing your shoes to join him on the bed. He was wearing his signature outfit, a black shirt and gray sweatpants—thick frames sitting on his face, his black hair messily in a middle part.

"So what do you want to do?" He asked, turning to you.

"I don't know Haechan you invited me over." You responded, scrolling on your phone.

"Let's just watch a movie." He said.

You nodded in response, prompting him to get up to grab some snacks.

Your eyes scanned the room, stopping at his computer. Soundcloud was wide open, the screen pretty much screaming for your attention, and there you saw a familiar banner.

"What chips do you want." He asked, looking over to you, noticing you staring at the computer. You broke contact with the computer, looking at him, still a little taken aback.

"Uh, it- it doesn't matter." You said, looking back at the computer subconsciously. His eyes joined yours, staring at the computer screen then back into yours.

"Oh oops, is it too bright?" He asked, walking over to his desk and exiting out of the tab, turning down the computer brightness.

"Yea thanks." You giggled, turning back to look at your phone.

Your head flooded a thousand thoughts.

Ok, you could be overreacting and he could just be a pervert like you and you both happened to listen to the same guy, or it could be something he just stumbled across, but everything lined up so perfectly.

You turned the phone away from him, turning down your brightness as you opened Soundcloud. You went straight to his profile and the banner was obviously the same, no denying that, but you looked around the account for more hints. You couldn't find anything else, it's not like you could ask him anyways, right?

You were about to give up, but you took another good look at the profile, his banner catching your attention. You sat examining the username that was in the center 'hcillusion119." What could that mean?

"Hey Haechan."

"What?" He turned to look at you.

"If you had to choose a number what would it be? Make it in the hundreds."

"I don't know, maybe one hundred and nineteen."

Your eyes widened as you stared at your phone. No way...

"What are your initials again?" You asked, looking at your phone.

"LDH, Why?" He asked.

"Huh, where did the D come from?" You turned to him with questioning eyes.

"That's my real name Y/n. My other initials are LHC, Why are you asking?" He answered with a snarky tone.

You sat staring at him for a second, the user name replaying over and over again in your mind. That was it— the hc stood for Haechan. Of course he would choose a name like that: 'Haechan Illusion 119', it was right in front of your face.

"I have to go to the bathroom, take a second to get back normal because you're acting weird." He said, interrupting your thoughts.

You turned to him nodding, going back on your phone like there wasn't a care in the world. You sat there waiting patiently for the bathroom door to shut and lock, waiting a few seconds before sprinting up, taking a seat in his computer chair.

Thankfully, he didn't lock the computer, so you could easily access everything. You turned the brightness up and quickly typed in the website, before you even typed in the whole word it came up. You clicked on it, and there it was— that banner, those audios, and a 'edit' button.

Your eyes widened, you always had a feeling that it was him, especially when you heard his voice, but something was telling you that it was too good to be true— this explained everything.

The microphone, why he was persistently trying to get into your insta, why he asked about Soundcloud on your phone, everything was piecing together. You quickly typed instagram on the search bar, praying that it was logged in, and thank goodness it was. You went straight to his dms, a whole bunch of randoms of course, but then you saw it: 'unknown825'. You sat still for a second, staring at your username, clicking on it. You laughed to yourself quietly, you didn't know whether to feel relived, nervous, or...

"It's you, isn't it?" he said from behind you, startling you.

You turned around, heart racing. "I- um-" You stuttered, locking eyes with him, still sitting in the chair as he drifted towards you.

"You know, the first day we met in class I had a feeling it was you, but I didn't wanna jump to conclusions— goodness you looked like you were about to fall apart every time I spoke though, how could I not get suspicious?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Haechan." Your response came out a little less convincing than you thought.

"I tried to get into your insta, but there was nothing. I looked on your computer, nothing as well. Soundcloud? logged out. God you're good at hiding this." He inched closer and closer to you, your breathing getting heavier with every step.

"I couldn't just ask, expose what I do if it wasn't you. You thought the same thing too right, wanted to ask, but you couldn't? You had nothing to lose regardless, but I took you for one of those kind of girls— the kind that acts all innocent in front of everyone, but has a deeper, dirtier secret that you're hiding." His voice was seductive, yet mocking as well, you cant say that it didn't hurt your ego a little to spoken to like a little slut who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

"What, the cat got your tongue? What happened to you being so dominant?" He teased, sitting on his bed next to the chair, grabbing the arm rest and turning you to face him.

"You know, if you're wrong then you look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

You tried to make yourself sound as convincing and possible, tried to make the situation seem like it didn't bother you, but honestly you were a little uptight about it. It's all fun and games when it's on the phone and you could just block each other and not talk ever again, but in person it was so much more.

"There she is, the Y/n I know and love. You know, I've waited for this moment. The moment where you would finally be so fucking desperate to know if it was me, been waiting for you to go through my stuff. You wouldn't do it though, surprisingly, so I just gave you a little push." He smiled, placing his hand on your knee.

You shoved his hand off of you. "What are you talking about, gave me a little push?" You asked, giving him questioning eyes.

"You think I would just keep Soundcloud wide open on my computer Y/n, be serious? I thought you were smarter than that." He smiled cockily, titling his head as you looked deeply into his eyes.

It was a setup. He set this whole thing up to catch you on purpose, and you fell right into his fucking trap.

"You're despicable. You did it, you caught me... now what?" You asked, leaning back in the chair, crossing your arms.

He took a look at the computer that was behind you, pointing to it, prompting you to look. You can't lie and say that you and hcillusion119, well, Haechan didn't do this call thing often, and that's exactly what he was hinting at— the call that took place two days ago.

"Remember what you said we would do if we were together, what you would do to me?" He asked, his sweet, desperate voice melting your brain like ice cream on a hot summer day.

"No Haechan, I don't remember."

Of course, you remembered. How could you forget? Every late night conversation was carved into your mind. Each call felt like an escape, an intimate secret between just the two of you, leaving you aching for more. Now, the weight of his presence made it impossible to deny your own desires. You were curious...no, desperate to know if what you shared over the phone would be even more intoxicating in person.

"Let me remind you... please?" he whined, his voice tugging at something deep within you. He leaned down, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed yours, guiding it to his cheek. The warmth of his skin sent shivers through your body, and without thinking, your thumb began to gently stroke his face.

His eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, his breath coming out in shaky sighs. "I'll be your good boy." he whispered, barely audible.

Your heart raced, the thrill of finally having him in front of you, not just a voice through a phone but real, and within reach. You could see the way his lips parted slightly, the rise and fall of his chest. It felt good to finally be close, to finally have him like this.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly withdrew your hand from his cheek. His eyes snapping open, filled with need, searching your face as you got up from your seat. His gaze followed you, not wanting to even be an inch away from you.

"Go to the headboard." You murmured softly.

Haechan reacted instantly, rushing to the head of the bed, pressing his back firmly against the headboard. He adjusted his glasses, his lips slightly parted, eyes locked onto yours.

You crawled onto the bed, your movements slow. His breath hitched as you came wanting more, needing you. You reached him, your body hovering just above his, your fingers grazing the side of his face again.

"Tell me," you whispered, leaning in close enough for your breath to ghost over his lips. "what did I say I was gonna do?"

His eyes sparkled, you could see him unraveling, caught in the web of everything you had both imagined during those late nights. You both knew that you imagined each other's faces on those calls after you met in person for the first time, and now it was all a reality.

“You said... you'd make me beg." His voice was a trembling whisper

"So beg me." You whispered, your voice soft, lips brushing against his ear, sending a wave of heat through him.

You felt him tense under your fingertips. His eyes, wide and pleading, locked onto yours with a desperation that made your heart pound. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, voice small, almost a whimper.

You smiled at the sight of him completely undone in front of you. You slowly lifted his glasses up onto his forehead, pushing the messy strands of his hair away from his face. Your fingers lightly grazed his skin, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"That's not how you ask." You teased, your voice low as you leaned in closer, just enough for your lips to brush his, but not meet fully.

He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling with need. "Please... Can I please kiss you Y/n? I need you," he breathed, his voice barely holding together. "I want your lips on mine so bad."

Your smile deepened as you leaned in, teasingly grazing your lips against his again, just barely. His lips parted, waiting for you to close the gap, but you pulled back, watching as frustration and longing flooded his expression. He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with desire as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"Please." He whispered.

You finally gave in, pressing your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss. The moment your lips met, it was like something electric passed between you both. The kiss deepened as his lips moved urgently against yours, tongues tangling together as if you were both trying to consume each other, neither wanting to pull away. You melted into him, your body pressing closer.

The kiss broke only when you both needed air, both of you gasping as you parted. Haechan's lips were swollen, his breath shallow, his chest heaving as he stared at you, his eyes filled with lust.

"Can I touch you?" He whispered, his voice needy.

You nodded, your heart racing even faster as he shifted you higher in his lap, his hands trailing slowly, up your sides. His fingers caressed your skin through your clothes and you felt his breath hitch as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin softly at first, then harder.

His lips moved down, sucking and biting gently at your skin, leaving marks. His hands explored your body, grabbing, squeezing, and pulling you closer, his touch growing more possessive with every second. His hips moved beneath you, the friction of his lap against you sending waves of heat pooling in your stomach. You gasped as he rocked you back and forth, grinding you against him.

Small, breathy moans escaped your lips as his mouth moved from your neck, traveling down to your collarbone, where he kissed and nipped at your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips firmly and guiding your movements against him.

"Fuck... feels so good." He whimpered, his voice strained as he broke away from your skin, his head falling back against the headboard. His eyes were half lidded as he watched you move.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned, his body reacting to every touch, every movement. His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt him twitch beneath you as he pulled you even closer, his hips bucking up against you.

"God Y/n." He whispered breathlessly, lips finding yours again, the kiss hungry and desperate, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I wanna taste you." He desperately spoke, looking at you with begging eyes.

Your fingers slid through his hair as you watched him, his breath quickening, his hands resting on your hips. He was desperate for your permission.

"I wanna taste you." He repeated. He was looking up at you, his lips parted, pleading. "Please Y/n... I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

You let out a soft hum, your fingers tracing along his jaw, watching as his body visibly tensed, waiting for your response. You could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He was completely under your control, willing to do anything you asked.

"You'll do exactly what I want?" You whispered, your thumb grazing over his cheek as you leaned closer, teasing him with the lightest touch. He swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

"Yes—yes." He breathed, his voice barely holding together. His eyes were wide, shimmering with anticipation, his grip on your hips tightening, almost as if he were afraid you'd pull away. "Please, just let me. I'll make you feel so good Y/n, I swear."

Your lips curved into a small smile as you stroked the side of his head, leaning in just enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath. "Then go ahead baby. Make me feel good."

The moment the words left your mouth, his eyes lit up. Without wasting another second, he gently pushed you onto your back, his hands moving with urgency as he pulled down your pants and underwear in one motion.

He paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto you with awe, like he was seeing something he had dreamed about for far too long. His hands traced along your thighs, and you could feel the faint trembling in his fingers as he spread your legs, positioning himself between them. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you, his lips parting slightly as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your skin.

"You're... perfect." He murmured, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, his lips brushing your inner thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You could feel his desire, his need to please you.

Slowly, he began kissing his way up your thighs, his lips trailing delicately. Every kiss sent a spark of heat through your body, and you could feel your pulse quicken as he got closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his breath fanned over your core.

"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice low. You could feel the restraint in his body as he tried to hold himself back. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you saw nothing but hunger in them.

"You're so beautiful Y/n." He whispered before lowering his head between your legs, finally giving you what you'd been waiting for.

The first touch of his tongue against you was slow, he was savoring the taste of you. He let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands held your thighs apart, his grip possessive but gentle as he worked his tongue in slow, sensual strokes.

"Oh my god." You moaned out, your hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue moving with more urgency now. He flicked his tongue against your clit, earning a gasped out of you, your back arching off the bed as he sucked lightly, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

Haechan groaned against you, the vibrations from his voice adding to the sensation, and you could feel his desperation growing with every second. He was completely lost in you, every lick, every suck more intense than the last. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue moving faster, more eagerly.

Your breaths came out in shallow gasps, your body trembling beneath his touch, and you could feel the heat building in your core, your stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue.

"Haechan... fuck." You whimpered, your grip tightening in his hair as he continued to work his mouth against you.

"Please Y/n, I want you to come for me." He groaned against your skin, his voice filled with desire. His tongue moved faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "I need you."

You cried out, your entire body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, your grip tightening in his hair as you rode out your high, legs shaking. Haechan didn't stop, his mouth still working against you, drawing out your orgasm.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips swollen and glistening, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he looked up at you.

"Did I do good?" He asked softly, his voice still breathless, his eyes searching yours.

"Mhm." You hummed, your fingers gently stroking his cheek brushing away a few strands of hair. "You did so good for me."

He smiled in response, leaning in to take your lips into a kiss.

Somehow, it was more passionate than the last. You two devoured each other, tongues tangling, your body heating up as you felt Haechan grind against you, trying to feel some type of friction.

"Fuck, I need to feel you... can I please feel you Y/n?" He whispered, his breath tickling your earlobe.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. "Do you think you deserve it?" You asked teasingly.

His eyes locked onto yours. "I do... please, let me feel you." He pleaded.

You couldn't resist the sincerity in his eyes. With a playful smirk, you gestured for him to adjust, his back pressing against the headboard as anticipation swirled between you.

"If you think you deserve it, then take off your pants." you instructed, your voice firm yet inviting.

His eyes widened like he was in a dream. Without hesitation, he slid down his pants, exposing his readiness to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Of course you're not wearing underwear." You laughed, crawling into his lap, his eyes filled with excitement and shyness.

"You're so fucking dirty." You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, drawing a soft moan from him as you gave a gentle tug.

His glasses slipped to the bridge of his nose, but he seemed unconcerned, his attention solely on you. Any other time he would've voiced a rebuttal to your comment, but he needed you so bad he couldn't even find the words.

"Please." He murmured desperately.

Slowly, you adjusted yourself, guiding him to your entrance. Both of you moaned as you took him in, inch by inch, until he was fully in you.

He threw his head back against the headboard, overwhelmed by the sensation of your warmth surrounding him as you moved. "Fuck." he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening.

"What, can you not handle it?" You teased.

"I—" He tried to speak before it was cut off by a small moan escaping as you pulled him deeper. "Can I move you?" He asked.

A soft nod was all he needed. His hands found your hips, guiding you, lifting you in a rhythm that soon had him whimpering your name, his movements becoming more desperate as your heat wrapped around him.

He had dreamed of this moment—the chance to feel you, and it was everything he'd imagined and more. "Fuck, feels so good." He whimpered.

His pace quickened, driven by your shared need, each whimper and sigh from you encouraging him to go deeper, faster.

"Fuck Haechan, you're so big." You moaned out, the words shooting straight to his pelvis.

"Are you gonna be good for me and cum?" you whispered into his ear, your words sending a shiver of pleasure through his body.

"Yes, fuck, I'll be good for you." He moaned out, overwhelmed by the sensations pushing him closer to the edge. His glasses fogged with each heated breath.

His movements grew messy, each thrust sending him closer to the edge, you tightening around him.

"Fuck, gonna—cum.” He gasped, his body trembling beneath you.

"Cum for me, I'm almost there." You said, your stomach tightening as he hit your g-spot.

"Feels so good." He whimpered, the feeling of you clenching around him making him go almost insane.

"Fuck— gotta pull out." He could barely get the words out, eyes squeezed shut, he felt dizzy. Even though his mouth said one thing, his hands kept moving you, keeping himself deep inside you.

"It's okay baby, fill me up." You moaned, the permission tipping him over the edge.

"Fuck I'm coming." He let out a choked whimper, finding his release, filling you full of his seed. His hands covered his mouth as he tried to hold in the cries that wanted to be let out.

"Uncover your mouth." You spoke, wanting to hear every precious sound he made, reaching your high shortly after.

His hands fell away, gripping the sheets to ground himself. His moans turned into cries of pleasure as he twitched beneath you, riding out the last waves of pleasure together.

"Shit." You said breathless, exhausted and satisfied, your head resting in the crook of his neck, your shared breath slowing to a gentle rhythm.

"Look at what you do to me." He muttered, obviously still winded.

"Look at what you do to me" You said, gently cupping his face, smiling as you took in the mess you both became—his glasses fogged beyond use.

He smiled lazily, resting his head on the head board as he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes.

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lcvemiyuki · 8 months ago

Text

“when they get jealous” | hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: haikyuu boys x reader, when they get jealous over someone else

warnings: disgustingly cute, kenma x reader + tsukishima x reader are established relationships, fem!reader, osamu x reader (y/n is perceived as shorter than osamu)

characters: kenma, tsukishima, osamu

a/n: more! bc these also have been stuck in my head... (not proofread sorry!)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Kozume Kenma

'he would get distracted to the point of jeopardizing a game'

It was a weekend afternoon, and Kenma had carved out some precious time to play solos in the gaming room. His specialty was first-person shooter games, and he stayed absolutely silent to focus; a pin drop could be heard from how quiet it was. Only the sounds of his game controller clicking resonated softly in the soundproof room.

You two shared the room, with back-to-back monitors and a personalized setup on each side. Occasionally, you would enter and play a game or two, leaving when you knew he had a stream scheduled.

Today was one of those quiet days, with Kenma fully immersed in his game. His noise-canceling headphones ensured nothing but the game’s audio reached his ears.

You entered the room, aware of his headphones, and left rabbit-cut apple slices next to his keyboard. The colors from his monitor illuminated the slices, casting a soft glow on them as his slender fingers worked like a well-oiled machine.

As you moved, your figure momentarily blocked his sight, and he glimpsed you holding a phone to your ear, a smile plastered on your face as you talked. Kenma's eyes lingered on you for a few seconds before his monitor demanded his attention again. Usually, you would make some sort of light contact to remind him you were there, a gentle touch or a pat on the shoulder.

But this time, you didn’t.

Instead, you turned to your side and plopped down on the plush chair, fully engrossed in your conversation. Kenma wasn't overly nosy, but he couldn’t help but peek out from the side of his monitor to observe you.

‘Who has your attention?’ he wondered.

Knowing he couldn't keep glancing your way without compromising his game, Kenma adjusted his headphones so that only one side covered his ear, leaving the other exposed to the outside world.

Kenma's focus split in half; he tried to concentrate on his game, yet every time he heard your wholehearted laugh, his eyes darted to you instantly. Your joy was infectious, and it pulled at his curiosity with an unfamiliar force.

“Tomorrow? Yeah, that sounds great!” Your voice rang out, clear and cheerful. Kenma's brows furrowed as he strained to make out more of your conversation. His concentration slowly dissipated, the multiple noises becoming a chaotic blend in his mind.

“I can’t wait to see you!” Your exclamation, followed by another giggle, broke his focus entirely. He turned his head fully for just two seconds, enough time for his character on screen to be targeted and shot.

The screen flashed red with ‘GAME OVER’ in bold letters.

Kenma's eyes did a double take as the realization hit—he had gotten distracted a bit too long.

He never lost a game—ever.

He yanked the headphones off, letting them hang around his neck as he leaned back in his chair. A long sigh heaved out, his worn-out hands finding their way behind his head as his legs spread apart for a more comfortable position.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, bro. Tell Mom I can’t wait to see you guys!” Now free from his game’s immersive audio, Kenma heard you loud and clear. His eyes squeezed shut, feeling a twinge of annoyance at himself for getting so distracted.

That really cost him a game—yet he couldn't help but feel his heart rate slow down after realizing you were just talking to your brother.

Lost in his thoughts, Kenma didn’t hear you approach until he felt the soft, slightly wet touch of your lips pecking his. His eyes slowly fluttered open to find you staring down at him with a confused look.

“You lost, Kozu?” Your eyes now drifted to his monitor.

He could only softly scoff at himself, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in his tone. “Yeah, I guess I did.” His lips pursed together, noting the twinge of sweetness they tasted.

He would never tell you the real reason, though.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Kei Tsukishima

'his smile looks indifferent, yet his eyes shot daggers'

The sound of someone’s cough echoed through the museum as you and Tsukishima passed through another grand exhibit. The exhibits grew slightly crowded at times, prompting you to lightly grasp the edge of his coat, careful not to fully grab him. His strides were slightly faster than yours granted his slight eagerness. Tsukishima turned his head, peering down at your hand clutching his clothes.

“Is this your way of trying to keep up?” His light eyebrows raised slightly in amusement before he reached back, taking hold of your hand to guide you instead.

“Excuse me!” a slightly loud voice echoed in the room, causing you to close your mouth before you could respond. You turned to face the source of the shout, only to find a young man staring right at you.

Tsukishima halted with you, turning his head around with a hint of annoyance at whoever was shouting.

“Do people not know when to lower their voices?” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. As he was about to finish his sentence, he noticed the man making his way toward you specifically. Tsukishima didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes were solely focused on you.

Turning his attention to you, Tsukishima also noticed how your squinting eyes suddenly morphed into one of pure surprise.

“Y/N? Is that really you!?” the man exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

As the man launched into an animated recount of his recent adventures, Tsukishima stood by, feeling a pang of irritation.

Soon enough, a few others caught up to your classmate. Tsukishima couldn't miss the way it took them a few seconds to avert their eyes or the eager way they held out their hands to shake yours.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, ‘How shameless.’

“This is my—” you began to introduce Tsukki, but he beat you to it, turning fully to face the group. “I’m the boyfriend.” His smile was anything but genuine.

His tone might have been friendly, but you could tell Tsukki was irritated.

Quickly realizing he might be upset about the abrupt interruption of your date, you hastily said your goodbyes to your old high school friend.

“Aw, c’mon Y/N, how about a reunion selfie before we let you go?” your old classmate nudged, pointing at the phone he was holding.

You awkwardly laughed, trying to think of a way to politely decline. But before you could say no, you felt a gentle but firm pressure on the small of your back, guiding you forward. You turned to see Tsukishima's long fingers splayed out against your back, his touch insistent. The action caused you to straighten up in response, feeling the solid reassurance of his hand.

You quickly took the selfie with your old classmate, offering a polite smile for the camera. Before you could say another brief goodbye, you noticed the three guys in the back all staring in your direction, only to quickly avert their gaze to some random object in the building.

Curious about what had caught their attention, you turned your head to follow their line of sight. Your heart began to race as you saw the reason for their sudden shift in focus.

Tsukishima, now several meters away, was turned slightly to the side, but his eyes were locked onto the guy next to you. His usual could-care-less demeanor was replaced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Tsukishima's glare was menacing as if silently placing a bounty on his head. His hands were comfortably placed in his pockets; his black glasses failed to mask the daggers he shot their way.

There was no mistaking it—he was jealous, and not just mildly so.

You quickly excused yourself, murmuring a final goodbye to your old classmate. You made your way over to Tsukishima, your steps quickening with each passing second.

As you reached him, you hesitated for a moment before gently placing a hand on his arm. His eyes flicked to yours, then quickly shifted away, focusing on anything but you.

“Tsukki,” you said softly, “Sorry that took so long.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, his tone begrudgingly agreeing.

“Were their stares bothering you?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“They were just...annoying,” he said, his voice clipped. “Like, read the room.”

A mischievous smirk played on your face as you interlocked your hand with his. “Is that why you were death-staring them like they were your sworn enemies?”

“Obviously. Anyone would with how noisy they were,” he replied, trying to sound indifferent.

He would never admit to it, but you could read him all too well.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Miya Osamu

'wouldn't care if a purchase or two gets put on the line'

One day, Atsumu, his doting twin brother, waltzes into the semi-busy shop with open arms.

“Take a whiff, boys—the infamous Miya blood mixes with success,” he says smugly.

Osamu doesn't even welcome them once he sees who it is—he simply deadpans and shoves the curtains to go in the back.

With a bright smile that reaches your eyes, you quickly greet the customers. The two unfamiliar gentlemen behind Atsumu had a muscular and tall build—likely hungry athletes in need of rewarding food.

‘Time to sell the whole shop,’ you think with determination.

Although you weren’t an official employee at Onigiri Miya, you wanted to help Osamu as much as you could. That included selling his delicious food to hungry customers.

You devise a quick game plan and target the first tall guy, hastily approaching him. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly as he examines the menu, trying to decide what to eat.

“Hi there! If you’re looking for something delicious, you can’t go wrong with our classic tuna mayo onigiri,” you suggest cheerfully, your enthusiasm catching his attention.

The tall guy’s face lights up at your recommendation. “That sounds perfect, thanks!” he says, his serious expression softening.

Just as you’re about to show him another flavor, Osamu suddenly walks directly between you and the customer, almost bumping into you. “You should try the natto,” he says, grabbing a natto onigiri from the display, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

The customer looks a bit taken aback, clearly put off by the sudden change. “Uh, I’m not sure about natto…” he says hesitantly.

You frown slightly, trying to salvage the situation. “Well, we have plenty of other options too—how about the umeboshi?” you suggest, stepping around Osamu to point at another onigiri.

Osamu, however, doesn’t move, effectively blocking your view. “Natto’s a specialty here. You should give it a shot,” he insists, practically shoving the onigiri into the customer’s hand, his eyes darting briefly to you and then back to the customer.

The customer looks uncomfortable, but Atsumu, ever the opportunist, steps in with a grin. “Look at ya, ‘Samu. Can’t stand to see Y/N sellin’ your onigiri to my pal, huh?” he teases, clearly enjoying the situation.

Osamu’s scowl deepens as he grabs an onigiri from the counter. “Shut up, ‘Tsumu,” he mutters before stuffing the onigiri into his brother’s mouth, effectively muffling his cackle.

Atsumu’s eyes widen in surprise, slightly coughing from practically choking on a rice ball.

Trying to pretend the twins weren’t going at it, mouthing silent threats to each other on each side of you two, you try to make a pitch once again.

“I hope you try out all, but it’s up to you!” you quickly put all three into the man’s hands and in doing so, your hand encloses them and gives it a slight pat.

The shuffling stops as you feel two holes being burned into the back of your head.

You could hear a soft chuckle as Osamu's large hands suddenly and slightly encircled your neck from behind. His weight leaned lightly against you as he crouched down a bit to join the conversation.

"Y/N's putting in quite the effort to sell you these, man. I'd say take them and enjoy," he remarked, his face close enough to yours that you could almost feel his breath against your ear.

With a subtle maneuver, you sidestep out of his grasp and guide the customer towards the register; the mess the very owner put you through just to sell these damn onigiris. You mentally roll your eyes as Atsumu continues to tease Osamu in the background.

As soon as the trio of athletes bid the shop goodbye, the door chiming softly behind them, your attention soon fell on Osamu.

You could feel a slight tension in the atmosphere, the remnants of the earlier exchange still hanging in the air. Osamu stood behind the counter, his back turned to you as he methodically rearranged the onigiri displays. His movements were precise, almost mechanical as if he were trying to distract himself from the task at hand.

"Why the face, Y/N?" Osamu feigned confusion as he went around the stalls to continue his organizing.

You stood by the register with your arms crossed, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. "Oh, really," you began, "I mean, I get Atsumu—you guys always go at it—but that guy was just like any other customer, 'Samu."

Osamu paused in his task, his expression shifting into a thoughtful gaze as if pondering something. His fingers tapped absentmindedly on the counter before he finally met your gaze. "Yeah, but there's always something more to it," he said cryptically, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You tilted your head, intrigued by his response. "More to what?"

He chuckled softly, a glint of something indescribable in his eyes. "More to everything," he replied enigmatically, leaving you with a curious smile as he continued to work around the shop. His words lingered in the air.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

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cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

Text

You Are In Love | Matthew Knies

summary: john tavares' sister is the social media manager for the leafs. she loves her job and the friendships she forms with the team - but what happens when her older brother invites her new crush to live with them.

14.2 + K

a/n: okay I write this like over a year ago so it’s not the best! also i originally wrote it with an original character in mind - so if you see a name instead oh y/n….no you didn’t.

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"he doesn't have a place to stay, so I offered him the other spare," john's voice was grainy over your cellphone speaker but you heard his words loud and clear. "It's the right thing to do."

"yeah!" you we're kind of in...shock. "The kids will love it..." they would - you weren't lying. that doesn't change the fact that you were kind of nervous.

your brother must've been able to tell by your tone, "you okay?" he asked.

you cleared your throat. "yeah."

"he's a good kid and he's your age - you've met him right?"

you have in fact met him. you have worked for the leafs for about a year. they had needed a new social media manager and somebody to run their teams tiktok account. When john told you, he said the team wanted more fun and interactive content on their pages and recommended you.

you had the degree and the charisma so you were hired with no questions. The fans loved the style of content you were posting, and the team had a great time answering your questions and lip syncing to stupid audios.

you were introduced to the newest maple leaf only a week ago. matthew knies had answered one of your daily questions before a practice and you were totally in awe. convinced you had never seen a better looking guy your age, you immediately developed a crush on the rookie.

so yeah, "I've met him two or three times. very polite."

"yeah," john says. jace runs into your legs and you grunt out from the force of your nephew slamming into your shins.

aryne walks into the living room with baby rae in her arms, she was feeding her. "is that john? is he on his way?"

"are you on your way?" you relay his wife's question. you can hear his turn signal in the background.

"yeah, 10 minutes away."

"10 minutes," you tell your sister in law. she smiles at you, ruffling jace's hair as she passes. your nephew has climbed into your lap, playing with the string of your hoodie.

"so," you begin, "when does he move in? do I need to get the bedroom ready..or?" you tried not to make yourself seem to eager to know. your brother couldn't know about your crush on his teammate.

"no no, i'll do the room. don't worry," john says, "he'll be moving in, probably in the next few days. I'll get everything ready when I get in."

you hold in a sigh. "okay, well, i'll let you go, I've gotta wake Axton up and help out with dinner."

"okay, I'll see you all in a bit. love you guys."

"love you," you say, "Jace say bye daddy." you hold the phone up to the little boys ear and he says just what you told him to. John and you laugh and then hang up.

yourself and aryne get dinner started after axton woke from his nap. aryne and you had always gotten along great, which is lucky considering she's married into the family. you're just glad she wasn't some stuck up girl like the kind of girls you'd grown up with. she was like the sister you've never had, which is why she could tell something was on your mind.

"you're quiet," she observes, slicing her knife through the carrot sticks. "you okay?"

"yeah," you say it too cheerful and immediately cringe at yourself, eyes not leaving the potatoes you'd been peeling. "just you know, nervous about the new...roomie. it's like college all over again," you try and laugh it off but aryne raises a brow.

"why would you be nervous?"

there really wasn't a point in lying to her. not only was she like a big sister but she acted like a best friend. "aryne I'm convinced i'm in love with him. he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen." you groan, hands falling into the pile of peelings in defeat.

"oh god," she says. she puts her knife down as jace and axton run through the kitchen giggling. "boys! no running please."

"Don't tell john," you say. "It's nothing serious - just a crush!"

"You know me," aryne says, hand on her hip. "our secrets stay our secrets." she goes back to her chopping. "besides," you look towards her with raised brows, "he's a cutie, maybe you guys will -"

"enough!" you throw a peel at her.

"hey!" johns voice calls through the house, and the sound of four feet running towards him can be heard. baby rae giggles and coos in her high chair as your brother enters the kitchen.

"hey," he repeats, kissing aryne on the lips and squeezing your shoulder on his way past. "what are you two gossiping about,"

"nothing," you say, putting the potatoes in the pot as you and aryne begin boiling the soup.

—

matthew had moved in a week ago. you were right, jace and axton adored him. so did you but you didn't mention that to anybody except aryne and only after two glasses of wine.

you're sure he is actually the sweetest guy like ever. not only does he treat your nephews and niece with the most gentle care, but he has so much love and respect for your brother and sister in law for letting him stay in their home. aryne says she sees him looking at you often, but you don't believe her. matthew was just as lovely when he spoke to you at home and at work - which is weird saying 'see you at home' to two leafs now - but you digress.

It was wenesday morning practice, and you were working. it was question day, so last night around midnight when you happened to remember - you grabbed the bristol board and sharpie and wrote: 'who's your celebrity crush?'

you stood near the entrance of the rink, cup of hot tea in your hands, with the board propped up against your legs. your co - worker, maddie, was holding the work phone, ready to record the players heading onto the ice, answering the prompt as they came from the locker room.

morgan rielly came first and chuckled at the sign.

"cmon mo, give us an answer," you laughed along with him.

he hummed for a moment but settled on, "megan fox."

you and maddie were getting a lot of the same answers, megan fox or margot robbie with an odd ball thrown in every now and then.

"here we go," you laughed knowingly as mitch marner slowed down to read the sign. he dropped his head back in defeat, "can I say my fiancé?"

you groaned, "mitch no."

and then you noticed another body slow down and read the sign as well. you tried not to blush when you smelt the cologne on matthews neck, a dead giveaway that it was him.

mitch rubbed his jaw, "you guys make these too hard," mitch concludes, "you're trying to put me in the dog house."

matthew laughs and your knees get weak.

maddie scoffs, "it's not hard, you're just difficult."

"exactly," you agree.

"alright, let me see the phone," mitch grabbed the cellphone, directing it in your direction, a giggling maddie behind mitch's shoulder. "alright, kniesy , get your interview pants on."

and matthew goes along with it. you didn't think he was comfortable enough - too shy maybe but no. he held a fake microphone towards your mouth and asked "who's your celebrity crush, Ms. Y/N Tavares?"

you felt your face wanting to get hot and you internally scolded yourself. "oh you know.."

"it's not difficult," mitch mocks you and matthew laughs.

you grab the non existent microphone, which just ends up with you pulling Matthew's glove closer to your face, holding his hand in place. "oh my god, It's Dylan O'brien you freaks." matthew laughs as he looks down at you. "now let me do my job and ask you the questions."

mitch gives a laughing maddie the phone back as william nylander walks out, followed by john. your brother barley stops to look but laughs, walking away as he calls out his answer.

william ponders briefly but says, "madison beer." mitch sucks in air fast, "good one!" mitch starts to walk away, "i'll say margot robbie!"

"boring!" maddie shouts with a laugh.

matthew stands with his hand on his hips and takes a deep breath but then he just like, walks away which is...rude.

"hey," you say, "are you going to answer?"

he looks back with what looks so be a slight smirk, "I can't tell - it's a secret!" and you swear you see him wink at you, but based on maddie's reaction of turning to you all wide eyed and open mouthed - you are certain matthew knies definitely winked at you.

—

matthew was sitting on the family room couch, scrolling through his phone as you came down the stairs. at the sound of your foot steps, he looked up and towards you, a small smile overtaking his lips.

you sent him a closed mouth smile back. "hey."

"morning," matthew said. he couldn't help but notice how fresh you looked. you had just showered and gotten ready, and matthew was smitten at the smell of your strawberry honey shampoo mixed with whatever sweet fragrance you sprayed on.

"are the kids up yet?" you didn't hear them, so you knew the answer already.

"don't think so," he hums, "just us so far."

you nod in agreement. "well, I was gunna head for some tims coffee before anybody had woken up, but, I mean, did you want to come with me?"

he was up off the couch before you could finish, "yeah." he said it so casually and the way he whipped on his hat so perfectly and grabbed his keys was just....ugh.

you two made small talk until you were both seated and buckled into matthews car. he passed you the aux cord wordlessly, which was just, wow. you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard and took the cable from him, hitting shuffle on your playlist.

"so," he started, pulling out of the driveway, flicking on his signal for the passing cars on the street. "how long have you been working for the team?"

he glanced at you quickly before pulling onto the street, the gps pulled up on his phone between his (massive thighs) legs, letting him know where to go.

"probably about a year now...and maddie joined me about 3 months ago. she's great and has helped a lot." after all, what if matthew wasn't winking at you but maddie - what if all this time he's been trying to get know maddie. how humiliating would that be - god he probably doesn't even think -

"do you like it?" matthew brought you out of your depletion. the way he had said it was almost like he could read your thoughts and he was telling your brain to shut up.

matthew didn't know you were johns sister when he first met you. not until you were introduced as so. sure, you both had dark hair and the same eyes, but you were a girl and matthew was clueless so why would he assume that the girl who thought was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen was related to his new captain.

it wasn't until auston matthews said, "have you met johns sister yet?"

"I don't think so," matthew said, "was I supposed to?" he had been confused because why would johns sister be there.

"our social media girl? you know, the hot one with dark hair." auston said it so nonchalantly but matthew felt his face drop. it couldn't be.

"fuck." was all he could say because fuck was right. he was lusting over his captains sister.

"yeah, I love it actually," your answer to his question snapped matthew out of his thoughts. "everybody is so lovely, and the friendships i've gained with the guys, it's amazing...even when mitch drives me up the wall."

he could just tell by the tone of your voice that you truly loved working for them. his phone alerted him they were two minutes away from tim hortans.

"the guys like having you around," matthew says. "or at least I do anyways, It's nice."

"thanks. means a lot." you look over at him and admire his side profile. he is so handsome. the music stops and changed over to the next song. with furrowed brows, matthew glances to the screen and then smirks. "big swiftie?"

you were kinda shocked that's what he said first and didn't slander her. "yeah," you said carefully. "are you?"

he laughed, "duh."

you gave him a skeptical look as the car pulled into the entrance of the coffee shop. he glanced over and saw your face in disbelief and rolled his eyes playfully.

you laughed out in shock, "hey! you can't blame me for being skeptical."

"you're right," he surrenders one of his hands, the other using the wheel to steer them into a parking spot (which was super hot.) "what If I told you i'm in my 1989 era? would you believe me?"

he unbuckled his seatbelt and you stared at him fondly. a look that had matthews stomach doing flips. "yeah. i'd believe you."

"good." he jumped out of the car and rounded to your side to open the damn door like some gentleman and you swooned. a swiftie and opening the door? was he just full of green flags? "you're definitely in your lover era," he states, "the vibes are too strong for any other era."

you laughed. "lover is great."

and when you both made it inside and started the order, you felt like crying when matthew ordered timbits for the kids, got john and aryne a drink and asked what you wanted and then payed for it all wordlessly - you swore you were in love.

as you waited for the drinks you could feel matthews eyes looking down towards you, because hell he was tall and had no choice but to look at the top of your head. "do you always get that drink?"

you rolled your head back to look into his eyes and nodded. "yeah, you can try it if you want."

"i'll stick to my hot drink," he smirks. "hot coffee over cold all day."

you have him a perplexed look. "what?! you're wrong."

"I'm not!" he laughs, moving to grab the tray of beverages as the teen calls it out from behind the counter. "my taste it clearly superior if we're even having this conversation."

you chuckle, "sure big guy."

back in his vehicle, your music resumes from where it left off, the stunning cords of corniela street flowing through the speakers once more.

"that would be a good question for your account." Matthew starts and you raise your brows in question. "ask the boys what their favourite Taylor swift song is? I bet the fan girls will love it - mitch too."

you think it actually would be a good question and take a mental note. "I agree."

It was after a team breakfast when you chose to go around with your mini - microphone to ask the boys questions for this weeks video. the team was all dressed comfortably, which is a nice change for the feed, most of them happy and full of delicious food so it was easy to get them to comply for the video.

It was just you today, maddie had the day off so you went around with your phone in one hand, paperwork under one arm and mini mic in the other hand.

"nick, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" nick robertson looked at you with raised eyebrows. he kissed his teeth and his hands on his hips before leaning down to the microphone.

"anti - hero." you thanked him and he laughed. "was that a good answer?"

you smiled, "yes."

and you kept moving, asking any player who you laid eyes on.

"joseph, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "love story"

"willy, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "look what you made me do."

"mitch, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "my fiancés is cardigan so cardigan."

"auston, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" you asked the forward, with a smirk on his lips he looked down at you.

"I don't know any." he was teasing you, obviously.

"yes you do," you laughed, "think hard."

"I am."

matthew could hear your laugh from across the room and his eyes landed upon you and auston. he was looking at you with a look that Matthew didn't like and you were laughing at what he was saying and that made him feel a bit...funny.

before he couldn't even think about what he was doing, he marched over there, abandoning his conversation with kerfoot and joining you and auston.

"hey," matthew says. "are you doing questions today?"

and just like that, you smiled that bashful smile and your cheeks got warm and matthew felt good.

"yeah!" you said, microphone swiveling towards matthew as you captured the two of them on video. "matthew, what's your favourite taylor swift song?"

he smiled and wanted to scream. you had used his question. it filled him so much joy and pride because auston may find you hot and make you laugh but you were using his questions and blushing at him.

"well, y/n," matthew started, taking the mini - microphone from your hands and bringing it to his mouth. you giggled. like an actual little girl. "my favourite taylor swift is cornelia street."

you spit thickened and you felt like you couldn't swallow. oh, you think, that's the song you had played in the car when he proposed the question. it was so...sweet.

"mines probably you belong with me," auston speaks and you have to blink hard because you forgot the goal scorer was even there.

matthew was looking at you with a look that makes you hot and bothered. you're sure now, this isn't been in your head. he was flirting.

"thanks, yeah," you take back you're microphone, "thanks. I better go ask o'rielly the same question, he looks left out."

and then you just left, matthews eyes burning into your retreating figure.

you were so screwed.

—

after that video went out, fans were absolutely loving matthew knies. and fair enough, you think. he was especially popular with the leafs female audience, and once again, you couldn't blame them.

fans wanted more matthew knies - they loved him and loved when you posted videos with him or about him. you also happened to love it too so it was a win win.

"it'll be quick!" you say quickly, "don't you want me to succeed at my job? give me content." you pass your brother the phone.

matthew laughs at your words and you smile.

"do you think you have the idea of it john?" you and already explained when to stop the audio and when to pan to who about 8 times now.

"yeah, yeah." he says. "why can't I be in the video?"

"well one, the audio is only two people," you point out, fixing your hair, "and two, the fans love matthew. you're outdated old man."

your brother laughs.

"okay, ready?" you ask matthew.

he crosses his arms and it makes his chest look even broader. "oh yeah, y/n/n, cmon now."

john doesn't catch on to the lovetseuck look you're definitely giving his teammate - thank god. probably too busy thinking over his instructions again.

"okay, john," you say.

the tiktok starts and the audio begins. you instructed him to focus on you for the first portion. you begin lip syncing to emma chamberlains met gala interview with jack harlow.

"i'll see you in there,"

video stops. you tell him to pan to matthew then, who delivers his line perfectly in your opinion.

"cant wait. love you, bye."

he chuckles when the video stops and you can't help but smile at him. you tell john that both you and matthew will be in the next shot.

"love you," you lipsync with a smile and as instructed, matthew walks out of view, and the last seconds of the video you give a shocked look to the camera - playing out the original interview clip perfectly.

matthew laughs and you and john join him. "ugh, perfect."

john gives you a high five and moves to collect his bag out of the trunk of his vehicle.

matthew joins you as you watch the tiktok over. his body is warm against your back, breathing soft and it tickles your exposed neck, making your stomach tingle.

"they'll love it," you say, "my bosses and the fans."

"how could they not?" he says, eyes looking into yours. "we killed it. you killed it, like usual."

"don't praise me matthew it turns me on." you say before you can even think of who you're talking to. what the fuck, your face drops, why did I say that? "I mean -"

matthew looks at you with a look you can't quite decipher and then he says, "good." he smirks and just leaves, grabbing his bag and walking into the players section of the arena with john. leaving you dumbfounded.

after making sure the audio was properly synced up and that everything looked okay, you posted the tiktok to the maple leafs account with the caption: when the knies/tavares household pulls up for work.

your favourite comment was one you found that said they shipped you and matthew - but you kept that information to yourself.

—

matthew couldn't help but glance at you discreetly once again. he had actually lost count of all the times he found himself admiring the side of your face, only lit up by the movie playing infront of you.

he was slightly smirking when you looked over at him, "matthew, pay attention." you scolded, pulling the blanket up to your chin and rolling towards him on your side. you weren't touching, but the heat of his body made you shiver.

"sorry," he breathes, eyes moving back to the movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen this before, It's a classic." you stated.

"I don't usually like romance movies," matthew says.

you sit up slightly, "how to loose a guy in 10 days isn't just a romance movie," matthew laughs as you try and mimic his voice, "it's funny and unique and creative and- ugh, just look-" you are distracted by Matthew McConaughey teaching Kate Hudson how to ride a motorcycle. "if I was that annoying and somebody still fell in love with me, I'd be smitten."

"you are that annoying," matthew is giving you a look when you scoff and roll your eyes at him. just then the two of you are both laughing, matthews head falling to your shoulder.

"I can't believe you," it's a whisper as it leaves your lips, eyes downcast as you look into matthews eyes. his head is still on your shoulder, looking up at you like a giant puppy dog. "i'm not annoying."

he smirks and you have to refrain from kissing him. "you're not annoying, no."

you smile triumphantly before pushing his head off you softly, to which it's his turn to scoff into the dark room. "rude."

"you love it."

"i do," matthew says back. he watches your face heat up as you try and keep focused on the tv. he's in trouble.

you had always found him attractive, but something about him helping the kids make mini pizzas had you wanting to fuck the shit out of matthew knies.

he was so gentle with the boys, and you're heart just melted everytime.

john and aryne had gone out for the night for a date - which was much needed. the leafs had an off day, which was rare, so you made your brother and his wife take the time and focus on them - with the promise you and matthew would watch the kids. well, you promised you watch the kids. you told matthew he should go out with hang with his friends but he declined. 'I'd much rather stay here with you...and the kids of course'

oh okay matthew i'll just fall more in love with you.

"wow, jace look at your pepperoni smiley face!" you're holding rae as you praise your nephew and he giggles, showing you his little teeth. "is it ready for the oven?"

"yes," jace said.

"okay, hold my hand to get down." his little palm grabbed yours and he slid off the kitchen chair.

"matthew, is axton almost done?" jace pulled on the leg of matthews sweat pants with a giggle.

matthew looked down and laughed at the kids sweet expression, "just about buddy."

you rounded the island to looked at your other nephews pizza. "wow!" you smiled and axton gave you a toothy grin.

"axton wanna show your aunt how you put the cheese on?" matthew asked him and you gave an encouraging nod when the blonde looked back up at you.

his chubby little fist grabbed a handful of shredded mozzarella and let it fall on the pizza with a laugh.

"good job baby!" you said, ruffling his hair. "is it ready to go in the oven?"

"yes," he gurgled.

"alrighty," matthew picked him up, swinging his little body out of the chair and placing his feet on the ground. "let's get these in the oven, don't touch okay guys. it's very hot."

"listen to matthew - I gotta put your sister down for bed, okay? i'll be back soon" you told them and they nodded. matthew watched your retreating figure with a grin on his face. he had put the two pizzas in the oven and sat with jace and axton in the living room. the boys were playing with toy cars and then suddenly jace bounced over onto matthews lap with a cheeky grin.

"what's up dude?"

"do you love my aunt y/n?"

"what?" matthew asked, tickling his stomach to make the boy laugh. "where'd you learn that from?"

"I learned from mommy." he said. "she says to aunt y/n that you love her."

oh, he thinks, am I that obvious about my feelings.

"i love everybody in this house. even you jacey." matthew says and jace, satisfied, leaves his lap, playing with his toys again, the only sound being the toy car wheels running on the hardwood floor and the hum of the over cooking the pizzas.

matthew thinks about you then, and how perfect you are. your smell, your smile, you're body...he needs a cold shower and a reality check.

later after you ate dinner and put the boys to sleep, you and matthew were busy in the kitchen. matthew was putting away pizza toppings and wiping down the counter top while you were elbow deep in soap suds.

you heard matthew chuckle to himself and you quirked an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder.

"what's so funny over there?"

he looked up at the sound of your voice and shook his head. "nothing, just -" he collected a handful of dirty dishes left over on the island and brought them over to the filled sink. "-earlier, jace asked me If I loved his aunt y/n."

your hands stopped scrubbing the plate you were working on, looking up towards him on your left. he was leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you.

"oh, god," you chuckled breathlessly. "sorry, he's just, curious."

"I don't mind, really." matthew says it quick and it makes you swallow hard. "At least he doesn't think I hate you...which is good. because I don't."

"right," you laughed, "I don't hate you either."

he looks at you all soft and you just want to grab his face with your hands, soap and all, and kiss him.

"y/n..." his arms uncross and it looks like he's about to reach out and touch you. "I've been waiting-"

the code beeps at the front door. "we're home." aryne says, smile happy and cheeks warm. stomach full of one glass of wine...or two glasses.

you try not to let your face show disappointment as matthew does the same.

"the kids go down okay?" john asks, tossing his keys on the counter.

"yeah," you clear your throat, eyes darting back to the sink. "everything is great."

"thanks again," aryne says, hugging your waist from behind. "you guys are the best."

"of course." matthew said. you glanced at him softly out of the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.

—

with the playoffs, it was harder to get content like you usually strive after. the boys were busy with extra practices and they were extremely focused on trying to win games - which, you know, was good.

so you got the most content with fans before the games, taking pictures and videos for the account - which was just as fun.

the guys rocked the first round and you texted matthew every night when they were in tampa, congratulating him on his goals and the teams performance: you tried not to scream of joy when he had sent back the kissing face emoji.

fast forward to a rather difficult round two. thankfully the leafs had pushed it to a game five, which was...good you suppose but still nerve wracking nonetheless.

you had been standing with aryne when it happened. often when you worked, you tried to join aryne and the kids during the warm up to capture some family content for the page. you were entertaining jace as the boys played, your eyes weren't even watching the ice or anybody but then the crowd stood in a rather negative uproar - and not the kind of disappointment when flordia scored a goal - it was different.

"oh no," aryne winced and your eyes shot up, seeing matthew laying on the ice looking rather...uncomfortable.

"what's happening?" you asked her. the trainer had reached matthew and was speaking to him with a hand on his back.

"he kinda got...slammed down. his head hit the ice."

it took a few minutes but he slowly got up, but had headed straight down to the tunnel. the game resumed but you had been too distracted by what happened to pay attention. 20 minutes passed and he still hasn't returned, which wasn't good.

"maybe you should go check on him?" aryne suggested.

you stopped biting at the skin of your thumb. "no, i'm okay." you said it quick and not even you were convinced at your own words.

aryne sighed. "y/n..."

you didn't budge.

"he doesn't have any family here besides us...I'm worried too and axton keeps asking about him - and I can see that you're stressed. go."

you took a moment but nodded in agreement, "okay, yeah," you grabbed your pass around your neck as a nervous habit, "yeah, are you okay with the kids?"

"of course," she said.

"I'll text you."

It didn't take long to reach the assessment room. that's where you found matthew and the team doctor and trainers. they turned at the sound of you entering the room and the trainer sent you a tight lip smile. the doctor was doing another test on matthew but you could tell by his eyes. something was wrong.

"is he okay?" you asked billy, the usual trainer, in a whisper.

"concussion for sure," he sighed, "even if the season keeps going, he won't be able to play."

you felt like crying for him. his nhl dream is cut short for the season. "oh." you whispered.

"y/n?" matthew asked. you tucked some hair behind your ear and moved towards him.

"hey.." you sat down in the stall next to him. billy was directed by the doctor to speak outside, giving you and matthew a moment alone. "how are you feeling?"

"like shit," he sighs, head falling back against the stall. "This sucks." you think you see his lip quiver and that makes your heart ache.

"It does," you agree, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing it soothingly.

"how come you came down here?" matthew asked, "i'll be fine."

you shake your head and look down, tears collecting in your waterline. "oh you know...the boys were wanting me to check -" you look up towards his face and he looks at you so concerned - the guy with the concussion was looking at you like he was concerned about you.

"I was so worried." you admit finally, tears welling in your eyes. "i'm just...sad for you."

"don't cry," he says softly, "I don't want you to be worried about me. I'll be okay." he tucks a piece of hair being your ear, hand trailing down your pleather jacket. "I mean, I got a killer headache but it'll go away," you gave him a look. "besides, if you worry too much you'll give yourself a stroke and then our new social media manager won't be you and then I can't flirt." he was trying to be funny.

"don't crack jokes," you try and scold him, "it's not funny." you can't help but smile though.

his fingers play with your keycard around your neck. "I feel better seeing you though. anytime I see you I automatically just feel like 100 times better."

"matthew," you whisper, "you're too concussed to be flirting like this."

"yeah, but," he grabs your cheek softly, "I mean it. y/n, I really like talking with you, and flirting with you, and hanging out with you. the other day in the kitchen...I was going to tell you but then your brother came in- I know I like you."

you smirked, "like as a friend or.."

"shut up.." he mumbled through his grin.

you kiss him, gently as you didn't want to shake his brain anymore than it's already been shook. his lips carefully move against yours in a way that feels so soft and comfortable you could cry again. matthews hand drops from your face and down your chest, forearm wrapping all the way around your waist until he's pulling you to stand, dragging you towards him, slipping his thick leg between both of yours.

he grunts out and the buzzer goes off throughout the area, signalling the end of a period. reluctantly, you pull away, hands caressing the side of his face. "did that hurt your head?"

the way you ask it so genuinely makes matthew feel like he's healed. he smirks lazily up at you, "no -i'm feeling really good."

the door clicks, signaling its being opened and you jump away from him, running a hand over your hair in attempt to look natural- and if matthew had to cover his crotch that was nobody's business.

later after a disappointing end to the game, successfully ending the leafs season, you all made it home. aryne had ordered pizza as john said he wanted something greasy - which was nice. the entire time at the table, you kept catching matthews eyes, to which he'd smirk and look away. you're positive your cheeks were permanently red for the duration of dinner.

and when you slipped your foot up matthews leg and he had to cough to cover his gasp, well, you couldn't help but smile cheekily to yourself.

you were laying in bed. glancing at the clock at the top left of your phone screen you groaned put. 1:38 a.m.

without thinking much of it, you opened your text messages.

y/n tavares

you can't tell john

his replay came almost immediately.

matthew knies

I won't

matthew knies

why are you still awake?

y/n tavares

just been thinking a lot

y/n tavares

why are you still awake. you aren't supposed to be on your phone

matthew knies

🤷. it's my hourly wake up. aryne was just in here to check on me

matthew knies

why's got you thinking so much that you can't sleep?

y/n tavares

you honestly

matthew knies

me…why?

y/n tavares

because we kissed

matthew knies

—

the next morning was quiet. everybody woke up around 9, even the kids which was nice. you all had breakfast together not long after waking, and then right around lunch, john and aryne took this kids to aryne's mom's, leaving yourself and matthew alone.

you walk down the staircase after returning from your room, pulling the hoodie you had retrieved over your shoulders. matthew was sitting at the kitchen island, twidling with his thumbs. he wasn't allowed screen time for 72 hours because of his concussion, resulting in a very uneventful morning.

you smile softly at him as he meets your gaze, a sudden nervousness washing over you. I mean, you two like totally made out the day prior, and you hadn't stopped thinking of his lips since.

matthew was the same way. not a second had gone by without thinking of you and the kiss, hell, it was all he could really do without his phone - even after the texts he shouldn't of responded to anyways - he would do anything for you.

"hey," you start and he smirks lazily at you.

"hey," matthew repeats. the two of you hadn't had a moment alone since the kiss and suddenly everything felt really real.

you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie, sitting down at the empty barstool beside him. "how are you feeling?"

"better now that you're here." he says easily, leaning in closer to you. you blush under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you watch his eyes flicker down to your mouth and up again. "how are you feeling?"

you frown slightly, "I'm fine?" you laugh.

"I mean, like, since we kissed." you don't say anything at first so matthew continues, "I like you, like, a lot and everything I said last night...I meant. but I didn't even ask you how you were feeling or if you felt the same way. I just want to check on you."

oh, you think, that's actually really sweet. "matthew I haven't stopped thinking about you since the moment we met. I've had a crush on you like this whole time," you say shyly and matthews smirk grows, "I was so nervous when john told me you were staying here because I thought if you were around me too much you would get sick of me and then you wouldn't fall hopelessly in love with me," you laugh. "but i suppose I was wrong."

"you were definitely wrong," he agrees, tucking a piece fallen hair behind your ear. he moves down your body until he's interlocking fingers with the hand you had resting on the table and he squeezes it three times. "when I first met you, I didn't even know you were johns sister."

"no?"

matthew laughs, "no! and then auston asked if I had met johns sister. he said you were the hot one."

you laugh, "auston thinks im hot?"

"hey!" matthew laughs, "too late for that. anyways - I thought there was no way that the most beautiful girl i'd ever seen was the sister of my new captain. I thought there was no way that...this would happen."

he gestures between the two of you and you smile sweetly.

"guess i'm the luckiest guy in the world, huh."

"I think we both are pretty lucky," you slide off the stool, and matthew spreads his thighs as you move to stand between them, your hands wrapping around his neck as his rest on your lower back, dangerously close to the round of your ass.

matthew smirks.

"so," you state, "with that being said - I want you. like, all the time. even when you go back home, I don't want whatever this is to end."

"I don't want it to end," he agrees, "I want to like date the shit out of you."

you giggle and matthews heart flutters. you're so beautiful, he thinks.

"so you don't have like a girlfriend at home or anything?" you're joking but you do glance at him with a serious look and matthew's face drops.

"god no," he says, rubbing a hand over your ass. "and you don't secretly want auston right?" but he's truly joking and you roll your eyes playfully.

"nah, the guy I want is right here," matthew leans in and presses his lips to yours, squeezing you tightly and pulling your body closer to his. you sigh into it, fingers running through his hair.

"i'm going to miss you when you're gone," you say against his mouth.

"i'll miss you," he says quickly, "but in the mean time, i'll make sure to get as much as you as I can."

you lean in to kiss him again until your phone beeps with a text.

"it's john," you say, "he says there leaving now. they'll be home in 30."

matthew smirks, "mhmm what could we do for 30 minutes...?"

you giggle, running up the stairs towards your room, matthew following.

"mhmm, that feels so good." your words are a breathless sigh against the darkness of matthews bedroom.

his bright eyes flicker up to meet yours, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he spread your legs, giving himself free range to keep pleasing you.

once matthews concussion was cleared, he headed back home for a month to visit and catch up with his family and friends. that meant leaving you and your new relationship behind. he texted you constantly, so anytime john was near, you made sure the phone wasn't accessible to him.

both you and matthew were absolutely smitten for one another.

it was his first night back from his trip back home, and seeing him again for the first time made you horny - like, immediately. but of course, you controlled yourself around your family to keep the secret a secret. and you had controlled yourself for 10 long, excruciating hours. john and aryne had gone to bed around 9 and as soon as 10 was about to hit, you snuck down to matthews room.

so here you were, with matthews mouth working wonders on your pussy - the squelching of your wetness and breathy moans were the only noteble noises in the room. "fuck, matthew, keep doing that."

he groaned against you, and it had pushed you over the edge, cumming hard all over his face and his fingers he had buried inside you.

shirtless, he crawled up over your naked body, kissing your neck up to your face until you could taste yourself on him. "fuck," he said.

you pushed him onto his back, and he smirked, watching as you climbed on top of him. you pulled his cock out of his underwear, letting it slap hard against his toned stomach. using your slick, you coated his dick before using your hand to line him against your entrance.

you sunk down, moaning loud enough so that matthew had to cover your mouth with his big hand - which obviously turned you on more.

you started rolling and bouncing on his dick fast, gripping your tits as his free hand thumbed at your clit. "fuck, i'm gunna cum soon." he told you.

you moaned, "me too."

he smirked up at you all hot and sexy, "you gotta be quiet."

you smiled breathlessly, continuing to jump on him, taking all of him inside you. between your two bodies was soaked in your juices, making the noises in the room even more intense.

matthew grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back without leaving your warmth, where's he started to fuck you at unfathomable levels, having your mouth hang open in a silent scream.

you were almost there, the coil in your stomach was about to snap until the light in the hallway flicked on. matthew stopped his movements, his one hand covering your mouth incase any noises slipped out.

his door was locked, of course, but what if. you start to pray it's somebody just using the bathroom but matthew starts to move inside you again, giving you a smirk. fuck, you think, this is so hot.

your eyes roll back and you grip his shoulder as you cum, tightening around his length as he plummets into you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see the light flicker off just as matthew shoots his load into you, effectively bringing your attention back to him. "ugh god." he says into your neck.

how the hell were you supposed to face anybody in the house tomorrow: how the hell were you going to walk after that.

you and matthew had a habit of discreetly slipping out to get the mail. you actually did always end up getting the mail - but it was never about that. you two just wanted to spend time with one another, away from prying eyes and questioning.

matthew's body was big and warm pressed up against yours. the heat of the setting sun was relaxing, setting the tone for when matthew could finally slip his hand into yours.

you sighed, head dropping to his shoulder as you approached the community mail box, about half a block away from the house.

"you okay?" he says softly and your heart just about wants to melt.

"yeah," you lean your head back to look at him, "I just needed this." you squeeze his hand to prove a point. "I missed you when you were gone."

"I missed you too," he stopped walked and wrapped you in a hug. "like, wayyyyy too much - I think I jerked off like 5 times-"

"ew!" you screeched out a laugh. "you're gross."

the ways he's smirking all hot and his tan skin and he's bulked back up already from the weight drop at the end of the season and it's just...so good. it gets even better when he kisses you, right in the middle of the sidewalk. and you think you want to marry him.

—

"anything exciting happen over the weekend?" maddie asked you, her soft lips tugged up in a knowing smirk. unlike the rest of the world, she knew about you and matthew and the blossoming relationship.

"nope," you say, setting up the daily question sign, along with your ring light and tripod: ready to capture the team.

"right..." she says, "so no...I don't know - 6 foot 3, hot, muscular, brunette hockey players pay your vagina any visits?"

"maddie!" you scold, "you're being too loud." you look around to make sure nobody was in earshot.

"what!" she laughs in defence. "it's like i'm watching a romance novel, I need to ask the right questions."

you start recording as the players exit the dressing room and make their way to the rink, passing you both, slowing down to read an answer the question provided.

"what's your favourite movie?"

you were getting a nice range of answers, which was good. from oppenheimer to when harry met sally - the boys did not disappoint.

you felt a nudge to your ribs from maddie, which made you raise your brows and look up from the work on the laptop. she gestured towards the players tunnel so you followed her eyesight, only to land on matthew walking out.

immediately, you felt hot, smiling as you made eye contact with him.

he smiled back, coming to a stop to read the sign. he walked closer until he was standing as close as he could to you with still being in camera view. "what's your favourite movie?" he asked you.

you suddenly became shy, tucking some curled hair behind you ear. "oh, I - I don't know."

"yeah, you do." he said immediately, that cheeky smile once again on his lips.

you looked up towards him gobsmacked, you you just knew maddie was watching you two with an open mouth and heart eyes. it's the way he was looking at you: so adoringly.

"probably how to loose a guy in 10 days." you say.

"okay mine too." he tells you and then directs his eyes to the camera. "how to loose a guy in 10 days."

and there's no way you can keep that interaction in the video and post it because the way he talks to you is so...hot.

"okay," you repeat back to him.

"okay," he says back, gloved fingers gently squeezing yours behind the bristol board before leaving you to stand alone, giddy as you watch him skate.

—

"careful, you're gunna get soap in my eyes," you scold matthew as his hands scrub your scalp with shampoo.

"close them then," he tells you and you gasp out a laugh, slapping his strong wet chest with your hand. he smirks, his fingers working wonders over your head, you eyes having no choice but to close in pleasure.

the two of you were taking advantage of the empty house, john away at an event for his foundation, aryne and the kids out visiting her parents and grocery shopping. as soon as the door clicked leaving the two of you alone, matthew practically raced you to the shower, stripping and stepping into the spew of water.

"alright, rinse." he tells you, directing you around to let the warm water wash away the suds.

"your turn," you say. you're stretching trying to reach the top of his head and he laughs down at you.

"having difficulty?"

you give him a look and it makes his smile wider. "help me," you eventually whine out. he obeys, his large hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling you up to wrap around his hips.

as you begin to happily wash his hair, you feel his soft lips trail down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, and moving to take your nipple into his mouth.

"matty," your head falls back.

he stops, unwrapping your legs from his waist, placing you gently back on the floor. "I love when you call me that." your hearts swells at the look on his face, continuing to beat hard as he grabs your face and kisses you.

kissing matthew was always amazing. his lips were so plump and soft, making for the perfect make out everytime. what feels likes hours pass, his lips not once leaving yours. you swear if you looked down, your fingers would be pruned.

a soft knock on the bathroom door breaks you two apart and you gasp, slapping a hand over matthews mouth. he raises his eyebrows at you, unimpressed by your slap, but you ignore him.

"hello?"

"hey," aryne says on the other side of the door, "we're back."

"okay," you say, trying to ignore the way matthews big hands we're feeling you up.

"where's matthew?" his hands stop kneading your ass and he gives you a bewildered look.

"oh, umm, I think he's in his room." you say quickly.

"okay," she says, "I'm going to go see what he's feeling for dinner."

"no!" you say too loud and way too quickly. it has aryne frowning, hesitating by the bathroom door.

"no?"

you meet matthews eyes. "yeah, no. I think he's sleeping."

"okay," aryne doesn't sound convinced and that had you worried. "alright, well, i'm sure he won't mind whatever I decide."

"tell her i'm down for tacos." matthew whispers and you shush him.

"I think he mentioned something about tacos earlier, If that helps." you tell her matthews wishes anyways which earns you a cheesy grin from the man.

"okay," aryne says, "alright, anyways, I'll see you when you're done."

"yup," you say, listening to her footsteps as she walks away from the bathroom. immediately you groan, head falling to your boyfriends chest.

later after everybody has eaten dinner, the kids have been put to bed and matthew and john went downstairs to watch their highlights and game plays, you and aryne sat on the living room couch, cuddled up in pyjamas and glasses of wine: aryne sipping her red and you trying not to chug your white.

"so," her demeanour shifts from fun conversations and discussing what funny things the kids did at their grandparents to a more serious, inquisitive tone and immediately you feel worried. "how long have you and matthew been seeing each other?"

you spit your mouthful of wine back into your glass, sitting up in the couch a little straighter. "what," you splutter out, "I am not seeing matthew- I-Why would you even think that."

her face doesn't change, still the knowing smirk on her lips. "y/n, I'm not stupid."

"aryne - matthew and I - I don't even like him that much honestly," you try to be nonchalant, sipping your spat out wine with red cheeks.

"oh," she sits up, "so in the span of what, 7 months, you've gone from being totally smitten and in love to not even liking him?"

damn, she got you there. "yup." you lie, crossing your legs.

"please," she says. "also, you two weren't slick today."

you give her a look.

"I mean, at first I didn't think anybody was in the shower with you - but then when matthew had come downstairs form his 'nap' with damp hair - and smelling like your shampoo, I knew."

you didn't know why you wanted to cry. but you did, and when aryne looked at you again she frowned. "don't cry," she says, wrapping you in her sisterly hug. "why are you upset?"

"because," you sniffle, "you're right. we've been seeing each other since before the summer."

aryne laughs, "I knew it."

"how?" you say into her shoulder.

"y/n, he looks at you like you created the universe - like you could do no wrong. and you look at him the exact same. I just knew."

her words give you goosebumps - did he really look at you like that?

"you can't tell john."

she pulls back from your cuddle with raised brows, "you know me, y/n/n , cmon."

the two of you cuddled on the couch in silence after that, the proposal playing quietly on the tv.

"for what it's worth," aryne says after a moment, "I think matthews amazing, and you two are most definitely perfect. It makes sense. and I would never tell him, but your brother wouldn't be mad at you - he loves matthew, and he loves you."

"I know," you hum.

and that was it. the movie was watched until you both fell asleep under the thick knitted blanket you shared, cozied up on the couch, glasses on wine now empty and sitting on the coffee table.

john and matthew came upstairs, talking amongst themselves until they stumbled into the living room, going quiet at the sight of you two cuddled on the couch in a deep sleep.

"oh gosh," john chuckles quietly, moving towards his wife. "do you mind getting y/n to bed?" he asks matthew as he gently shakes his wife awake.

"sure," matthew says.

john wakes aryne, and she groans, letting her husband drag her to bed, nothing more than a quiet goodnight passing her lips.

as they left, matthew moves towards you with a full heart. your lips puffed out as your breathed, on the verge of a soft snore. he crouched down, a hand running over your hair to wake you gently.

your eyes flutter in confusion at first, but then they spot your boyfriend and you smile. "hi."

"hi." he says with the smirk you love so damn much.

"I fell asleep," you state, letting matthew sit you up.

"I can see that," he says, pulling you to your feet.

you naw on your lip as you two begin walking to your room. "aryne knows." you tell matthew.

"knows what?" confused, he questions you.

"about us." you clarify. something flashes on matthews face that you can't decipher. you think he may be mad, but then he breaks out into a grin. "why are you grinning like that?" you can't help but smile as well.

"that means you can sleep in my room tonight," he says, dropping you to his bedroom. "john and I will be leaving for practice, and aryne won't be confused why you aren't in your own bed - because she knows."

"you're right," you whisper, admiring how excited he was. "let's go to sleep then. take me to bed."

—

october 17th

it was late when john and matthew got home from their game, party decor from matthew's 21st birthday still hanging in the kitchen, cake still on the counter.

john had nodded a goodnight at the rookie, wishing him one more happy birthday before heading up to bed to join his wife in a deep slumber.

all the lights were off, saved for the one under the microwave...and apparently the backyard light, matthew notices, the warm glow illuminating the kitchen through the glass patio doors.

making his way over, he opened the door, peeking around the corner.

you were sitting on the patio couch, bundled up in your favourite oversized hoodie, and a pair of what matthew can tell are his sweatpants.

"hey," matthew whispers and you jump slightly, hand held to your chest.

"you scared me," you laugh. he shuts the patio door softly behind him, making his way over until he was sitting next to you. "i've been waiting for you."

"here I am," he smiles, bringing you into his chest. suddenly you are grabbing a throw blanket, tossing it over the two of you to protect you from the nippy october air.

"I had all these candles lit and was gunna order your favourite food and wear that set you like under my clothes and wear one of those coats, that you know, cover it, but then," matthew loved when you rambled, "the frickin wind kept blowing the candles out, and the thai placed was closed and well I got cold so I had to change out of the coat,"

you are wearing a slight pout and matthew just chuckles sympathetically, kissing the side of your head. "that's okay."

"I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday." you concluded.

"having you next to me is perfect enough," matthew admits and you look up at him softly.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips, leaving you hot and bothered when he pulls away. he really knows how to kiss. "I have one more gift for you," you smirk and matthew raises his brows.

"I don't need anymore gifts - oh," matthew watches as you sink to your knees infront of him, unbuckling his belt. he lifts his hips to help you pull his pants down his thighs, revealing his already semi hard dick in his boxers.

matthew shivers as you reach in with your cold hand and pull his dick out, it hardening completely at your touch. he groans when your tongue licks the underside of his dick, all the way up until you reach the head. you kiss the tip softly, licking the pre - cum from his slit. "fuck baby," matthew says.

you look up at him through your lashes, a smirk on your lips and matthew thinks he could cum right then and there.

you take him into your mouth, bobbing your head as you suck him off. your hands cover the portion of his dick your mouth can't reach, the combination leaving a hot wet mess on his dick. matthew is groaning, calling out your name until he's reaching climax.

"i'm gunna cum," he says and not a moment later, he's shooting his load in your mouth. you swallow all of him, sliding off his dick with a pop.

you giggle at his relaxed face, very much pleasured out. "happy birthday," you whisper, climbing on his lap so you are straddling him.

he grabs your hips and kisses you.

"did you like your gifts?"

"I did," he chuckles, "although the hoodie you got me may have some competition with the gift I just received," you blush and throw your head back with laughter.

he brushes his lips against your exposed throat and instinctively your hips roll against his crotch looking for friction. matthew moans again.

"i'm not fucking you out here, it's cold." you decide and matthew groans with disappointment. you laugh, hitting his shoulder. "i'll fuck you inside though."

"i'm sold," he says, picking you up off his lap and setting you on the ground. you grab his hand and he says, "earlier you said you had to change out of your coat..does that mean you're still wearing lingerie underneath these sweats?"

you give him a sultry look, "guess you'll have to find out."

"you're killing me," he says, letting you drag him back inside.

matthew is a very happy birthday boy when not 5 minutes later he sees you are still clad in midnight blue lacy garments. happy 21st birthday to him.

—

you had been intently trying to finish up some work on your laptop from the comfort of your own bed before the work day ahead - key word: trying.

not only were you tired (it was almost 1 a.m.) but you were grumpy because maddie was sick, so a bunch of extra work was dumped on you and your boyfriend wouldn't stop annoying you.

matthew wasn't even doing anything that outrages, just playing with your hair and kissing your neck and he kept trying to show you funny videos on tiktok that aren't even that funny.

he tickled your side and you pushed his hand away. "you're annoying me," you say.

he doesn't buy it, so he did it again. "pay attention to me," matthew all but whines and you have to refrain from snapping at him.

he wasn't even doing anything that annoying. in fact, if it was a regular day, you would welcome everything matthew was doing with open arms, happy that your boyfriend wanted your attention. but it wasn't a normal day, the stress of the work load slowly building.

"babe, you know I want to get this done and you keep distracting me! it's annoying." your tone was sharp, a warning.

"i'm not even doing anything that bad," matthew argues like a naughty toddler, sitting up so he can look right into your eyes.

the bar of your patience has overfilled, except you don't get angry - just overwhelmed: throat tightening.

when matthew sees your eyes start to get watery, he frowns, "hey, i'm sorry." he knows you've been stressed, with like...everything and that wasn't even including the stress of having a secret relationship, which was something he was apart in. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

you sigh, sniffling. "you're not even being annoying - it's just everything is stressing me out and overwhelming me."

matthew uses his thumb to wipes your tears. "I think you should take a break for the night. we can finish tomorrow, right?"

"yeah," you huff, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you. are you mad at me?"

"i'm not mad at you." he laughs because your question was, well,...ridiculous. he grabbed you, pulling you down to cuddle into him. a few minutes pass of him playing with your hair in a way that didn't annoy you, pressing kisses to your hairline that has a way of fluttering your eyes, sleep on your doorstep.

your almost sleeping when matthew speaks up.

"hey," he whispers. you look up at him with gentle eyes and he pauses briefly. "you're my best friend, you know that?"

you smile. "am I?"

"yeah," he says in a sassy tone that he does that drives you up the wall but you don't even care in that moment - because you have the sweetest guy ever. "besties." he mimics a typical girly voice that you can't help but roll your eyes playfully, "besties," you agree.

he smirks all hot and you feel it all the way down to your toes. when matthew lays you down on your back and slips his big strong hand underneath your waistband - you don't protest, suddenly wide awake.

seeing the other wives and girlfriends wearing WAG jackets while you didn't and couldn't was never a nice feeling. there's nothing you wanted more than to wear Matthews name on your back - but instead, you stood with the teams phone to capture moments for the account: very much jacketless.

you were taking a video of TJ Brodie's kids watch their dad excitedly, giggling happy as their dad passed you a puck through the camera hole for you to gift to them.

you beam down at the blonde kiddies as his wife tells their kids to wave to their dad when suddenly you see a maple leaf player slam their body into the glass beside you. looking up, you make eye contact with matthew.

he smirks, and you try not to seem to excited in the arena full of fans, your friends and your brother. you roll your eyes at him, waving the phone as to tell him you're working but he just rolls his eyes playfully back at you. he does a couple warm ups in-front of you, which you record, because hey, it's good content.

he uses his stick to pick up a puck, gesturing you to open the camera hole. which, you do, of course. he puts his hand through, holding out the puck for you to take.

"why are you giving me this?" you ask him.

he shrugs, "just giving back to my fans."

you laugh sarcastically, taking the puck and shoving it in your jacket pocket. "how kind."

he winks before skating away.

unbeknownst to the two of you, john watched the interaction from the blue line as he was stretching, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. since when have the two of you...sure, you'd always been nice and civil to one another, friends even, john would say. but there was something on matthews face as he skated away from you that had johns heart strings being pulled.

inbetween periods, matthew had pulled out his phone, which he thought he did sneakily, and smiled at his screen, typing out a message. john couldn't help but think he was texting you - but, no, because he had to be imagining it. there's no way that the two of you have been building and involved in a romance - in his own house, at his work, that he didn't know about.

but then, at the end of the game, in the players tunnel we're you'd usually wait for them, john couldn't help but notice your face light up when you saw his teammate, and the way you squeezed his arm, congratulating matthew on a good game: john was pretty much convinced.

later that evening, him and aryne stood in their on suite, brushing their teeth as they two of them got ready for bed. john spit out his last bit of toothpaste and turned toward his wife.

"have you noticed that matthew and y/n have been...I don't know...extra friendly?"

aryne spit out her own toothpaste and giggled.

"what's so funny?" john asks her. "am I just going crazy? is that why you're laughing?"

"no, no," aryne reassures him, "you've just now noticed that matthew and y/n have been flirting?"

and john is taken aback for a moment and suddenly, anything you and matthew have ever done together, and they way you both speak to one another, always ending up sitting next to one another, hell, even the way you looked at each other...oh. "I guess I have noticed." he says momentarily.

"good for you." aryne rubs some expensive moisturizer on her face.

"are they like...In love?" he asks with a funny look on his face.

"I'm not sure," aryne thinks, "but they are definitely having se-"

"okay! I don't need to know." john says. the two of them make their way into their bed. that makes him think back to about a month ago, when he saw you cooking the in kitchen.

"hey," john says, eyes trained on his cellphone as he walks into the kitchen, back from morning skate.

"hi," you and aryne had said in sync. his wife hovered over the stove, cooking eggs and bacon while you stood at the island, chopping fruit.

he looked up then once he heard his daughters giggle, he smiles as he watches you pass her some fruit, the baby as happy as ever getting attention from her aunt.

but then - "is that matthews shirt?"

you looked up with wide eyes because yes, it was. "oh," you look down at yourself, "yeah, I didn't even realize."

suddenly aryne piped up, "I think i mixed up the laundry. I thought it was a sleep shirt."

if john saw the exchange the two woman gave each other, he didn't say it.

you definitely knew that was his shirt, john is sure if it now. with his arms behind his head, he breathes deep. "why haven't they said anything?"

"what do you mean?"

"like...if their dating, or in love - not just hooking up. why have they kept it a secret?"

"I don't know honey," aryne rubs a hand over his chest and he closes his eyes. "they were probably scared. I mean Matthew probably didn't want you thinking that you've gone out of your way for him, letting him stay here and he repays you by banging your sister -"

"aryne!" john says and she giggled.

"and y/n - she doesn't want to upset you."

"she could never upset me." john says immediately. "If they are dating...well, Matthews a good kid. he's the best possible guy for her - I don't want her to feel like she has to hide it from me."

"you should tell her," aryne flicks off her bedside lamp, letting the room become overcome with darkness. "they're cute - we should let them do their thing."

"yeah, i'll talk to them tomorrow."

the next morning, you and matthew had been cozied up on the couch. any opportunity that the two of you had in the early morning to be cuddly while everybody else was sleeping, you and matthew took.

matthew had been whispering something into your neck, making you squirm and giggle when footsteps were heard bounding down the stairs, making you and matthew scrambled apart just as john rounded the corner.

he had a look on his face you couldn't quite figure out - he almost looked...in pain but also uncomfortable but at the same time happy.

"hey," you start in hesitation, "what's going on."

he shifts awkwardly before moving to sit on the love seat. "you guys can like...continue whatever you were doing. like cuddling or whatever."

you are sure matthews eyes are as wide as yours. "what?" you ask, your tone of voice perfectly depicts your level of shock.

"I know you guys are...doing stuff." he gestures weirdly in between your bodies.

"oh my god." you cover your face. this is like having the birds and the bees talk with your parents - expect it's with your brother and your boyfriend is also there to hear it. "doing stuff? what?" you repeat.

"listen, I'm not mad."

you look up towards john with raised brows. "you're not?" matthew says before you can.

"no, god- " john leaves forward so his elbows rest on his knees, "matthew you are the nicest guy ever. you are great with my kids, and you'd be a great...are you guys like dating or is is strictly just -"

"dating." you say loud and quickly.

"you'd be a great boyfriend, especially to my sister." john continues.

"I didn't want you to think that, I don't know, you've gone out of your way to bring me into your home, and i've repaid you by sneaking around with your sister." matthew says sheepishly. aryne was really on the nose with that one.

"I don't think that." he says immediately and you can feel matthew sigh in relief beside you.

"and y/b, I could never be mad at you. you're an adult and i'm your brother, I don't control you, nobody does. I just wish you didn't feel the need to keep it a secret."

you wanted to cry because you really loved your family.

"I just didn't want you to treat matthew any differently."

matthew looks at you with a look of confusion. he didn't know that, he just thought you didn't want john to know - not that you were trying to protect him. "really?" he asks you.

"yeah." you whisper.

"I wouldn't of," john says. "i'll still treat you the same." john watches your face relax at his words and it fills him with a nice feeling.

"alright," john says, hitting his knees and standing up like a typical dad, "so you two can get back to cuddling or...whatever, just don't french infront of me."

matthew laughs loud beside you and your mouth drops in shock. "french? who says french. you...old man."

john laughs as he walks away, leaving you and matthew alone once more. almost immediately, matthew wraps you in a hug, pulling you down on the couch.

"this is good, right?" he asks you gently, hand gently tracing your face. his eyes are so soft that you can't help but smile.

"yeah," you say back, letting matthew kiss you gently on the lips.

the sound of four tiny feet come bounding down the stairs, making you pull apart before the kids jump onto the two of you, laughing, begging matthew to turn on Bluey before breakfast. you watch in admiration as he interacts with them, and everything feels good.

—

christmas was approaching- way too fast for you liking. this time of year was only hectic in the Tavares home - that wasn't even including the load of extra work you needed to complete for upload during the small holiday break provided by the NHL.

matthew had the 22nd off (as the team had played their last game the day before) and suggested the two of you head out to do some last minute shopping - which was a relief because in all your work stress, you've barley had time to shop for anybody besides your boyfriend - so immediately you took matthew up on the offer.

the two of you had gotten into matthews car and headed downtown to begin the much anticipated long shopping day - hoping to check off your never ending list of presents.

a few hours after your arrival, matthew had grabbed the back of your neck, directing you in the direction of a hot chocolate stand, because 'you can't christmas shop and not get a warm drink' as he claims.

matthew had pretty much gotten everything he wanted to get for the family (his and yours) as did you, which calmed you down so much compared to your hectic stressed filled past couple days.

matthew had your hand wrapped in his large one, swinging them between your bodies as you made your last walk down the strip. you both sipped your hot chocolate carefully after matthew burned his lip on his, pouting until you kissed it better (you love your big baby).

you came up upon one of your favourite market stores. they always carried to most beautiful, antique looking items and most of the time you ended up loving something in the cute shop - and this time was no exception.

you had gasped slightly, your hand squeezing matthews as a reflex. "oh my god, how amazing." you were face to face with the most beautiful winter snow globe, filled with tiny fake snowflakes and a cute little village - it was right up your alley. "oh I love it."

you could feel matthews front press against your back, hovering over your shoulder to look at the antique. "it's nice." he agrees. matthew tugged your hand, "hey, I think I see Santa if you want to go sit on his lap and ask for it for christmas."

your head snapped back at him so fast your slicked back ponytail almost wiped him in the face. "ha ha, you're so funny."

he smirked in satisfaction at his own joke and tugged you into his side, kissing your temple - ignoring the way you swatted him away, claiming he was going to mess up your makeup.

christmas morning

a bunch of tiny knocks on your and matthews bedroom door makes you groan out, eyes squinting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

a moment later the door opens, revealing the kids in their christmas pyjamas: eyes full of excitement.

"wake up aunt y/n!" jace says, jumping up onto your bed. you sit up, nudging matthew as you rest against the headboard.

"matthew," axton's little voice whispers. "it's christmas."

"hey buddy," he whispers, picking up the blond boy and sitting him on the bed between the two of you.

"santa came!" Jace said excitedly.

"did he?!" you asked, "are you going to show us?"

"yeah!" the boys cheered, they had dragged matthew out of bed and downstairs quicker than you could put your robe on. aryne was waiting by the bedroom door with a cup of coffee, made the way you love it.

"good morning." she hums.

"hi," you say, taking the mug and wrapping your hands around it as the two of you descend down the stairs and into the warmly decorated family room.

"aunt y/n look at all the presents!" the boys say, practically vibrating as they resisted the urge to tear up all the wrapping paper in that very moment.

"wow!," you say with as much enthusiasm the early morning would let you, taking a seat beside matthew who immediately wraps his arm around you, bringing your body into his own. it wasn't long before you dragged a throw blanket over the two of you, cuddling into him tightly.

"alright boys, everyone's here you can start." john says, holding onto his daughter. the kids laughed loudly as they started, and you swear you've never felt excitement or happiness the way you did when wtaching your nephews open gifts.

the four of you helped all the kids open their gifts when needed, which was often because they wanted to play with every new toy they opened (which was so darn cute).

an hour or so of present opening had passed, leaving the kids to entertain themselves with their new toys from santa, while the four of you got to exchange gifts with one another.

you tore open your gift from aryne, opening the white box to reveal a demin jacket with a bunch of leaf decals on it. you knew what it was immediately. "you didn't." you pull out the jacket to look at it fully, the back displaying exactly what you thought it would: Knies 23.

"oh my god," you laughed, "did you know?" your question was directed towards your boyfriend, who held his hands up in surrender.

"my lips are sealed." he laughed as you hit his chest playfully, letting him kiss your cheek two times quick.

you couldn't help but feel giddy inside, and you bet your bottom dollar anytime you weren't working, you'd be repping your man on your jacket for the whole world to see. "I love it, thank you honey bunny," you give your sister in law a squeeze and she hugs back just as hard.

"alright, mine next," matthew says, handing you a neatly wrapped square box. you raise your brows in suspicion and start to unwrap it. "you didn't wrap this."

you knew him too well, matthew thinks. "just open it - don't jostle it around," he scolds before laughing.

"you're insufferable," you say. you are left with a plain white box, leaving you no option but to gently open the lid and - oh my god. "matthew..." you whisper, gently taking your gift out of its protective styrofoam. "you didn't."

"what is it?" john asks, trying to peek over your shoulder as he bounced baby girl.

"oh, it's beautiful," aryne says as soon as she gets a proper look at the gift, her hand held to her chest.

matthew bought you the snow globe. "the person at the cash wrapped it for me - she insisted. she's a sweet lady," matthew says.

you knew he didn't wrap it. "yeah, beth is a sweetheart."

"of course you know her name," matthew laughs. the four of you laugh at his comment before aryne jumps up, helping one of the boys build a toy, john walking off to grab a bottle for the baby.

you're still staring at the snow globe when matthew looks down at you. he smiles involuntarily, admiring the way you looked so content and happy. "merry christmas," he whispers.

you look him in the eyes and it's just like the first time you saw him. you have the biggest crush on your boyfriend. "merry christmas."

you are so in love.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

link to playlist

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berrymarkie · 6 months ago

Text

gamer | l.hc

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genre : smut

warnings : fingering , spanking , hair pulling , multiple creampies , unprotected sex

hiii everyone! im so sorry for literally disappearing for a whole month. 😭 i just lost motivation for a while but i wanna start writing again! unfortunately, i lost access to most of the requests i received over the last month due to my own lack of experience using tumblr. i am still fairly new to the app so i am still learning how to navigate my drafts, requests, etc.

any new requests would be greatly appreciated!

well, this is nice. you come to visit your boyfriend and instead of you occupying his time, it’s a computer game. what could possibly make a game so fun? you swear he’s been playing for hours at this point, rarely even taking glances in your direction. you haven’t seen eachother in a week and he’s acting like he couldn’t care less about your presence.

“hyuck” you sing out, as you crawl to the end of the bed to be closer to where he sits. he hums in response, not even looking at you. “wanna cuddle?” you ask while giving him puppy dog eyes.

he looks at you for a moment and then turns to the screen again before speaking. “you know i’d love that. but, there’s a time limit on me getting this super rare gun.”

a gun? seriously?

“you can’t cuddle for just a little bit?” you whine dramatically. he chuckles and shakes his head. “im sorry, baby.”

you sigh and crawl back to the middle of the bed. laying down on the fluffy blanket you were previously wrapped in. you open your phone and start scrolling mindlessly, hoping to pass time so maybe haechan could finally give you attention.

you find yourself going through your camera roll, more specifically your videos. most of them being of your dog, sometimes pretty scenery outside. you come across one video in particular, a video haechan took on your phone.

shit, you look so pretty like this. want me to fuck you, hm? my pretty girl is so wet for me.

the audio plays quietly from your phone, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound effects on haechan’s game. you quickly swipe to the next video and see his face, his bare shoulders glistening with sweat as he roughly thrusts into you, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he looked perfect, so handsome.

great, not only are you wanting to simply talk with haechan, but now, you’re also horny. now craving something he most likely doesn’t want to give at the moment.

you want his attention, and you want it now. you decide to take off a few layers, hoping to maybe catch his eye. you crawl over to the edge of the bed and lay on your stomach. wearing just your bra and panties, you prop your ass up a bit higher, hoping he’d see that first if he glanced at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, not looking away from the screen. “im not doing anything, why?” you say, making yourself sound way more innocent than you are.

“oh really? then why are you half naked, staring at me.” he chuckles and finally looks at you, taking in sight of you. “uhm, it got hot? i think you’re looking into things too much, hyuck.” you coo at him and blink cutely.

“am i now?“ he shakes his head, his jaw slightly tightening. “mhm, you’d better get that gun anyways. it sounds… exciting.” you say softly, trying to fight back a stubborn smile.

he clicks his tongue and looks at you again, shaking his head and chuckling. you look back at him, raising your eyebrows. he suddenly gets out of his chair and sits down on the bed, pulling your legs across his lap, ass up.

“what are you doing? don’t you have a time limit?” you ask, your voice filled with fake urgency. “oh shut up.” he growls and spanks your ass roughly. you yelp and bury your face into the fabric of his sweatpants.

he rubs your ass before laying another slap across it. “you wanted it this bad?” he asks, his voice a bit deeper than usual. you don’t say anything in response, just shutting your eyes tightly.

you feel him pulling your panties off of you quickly, leaving yourself feeling a bit more vulnerable than before. he spreads your legs on his lap before slapping the back of your thigh gently. “you all worked up, hm?” he teases.

“hyuck…” you breathe out weakly. he hums softly and rubs his finger along your slit. he spreads the wetness all over your pussy before slowly pushing a finger inside you. you whine at the sudden action, hands moving to his free arm in front of you to grip on it gently.

“so wet. it’s all for me, right?” he whispers. you nod your head quickly in response. “talk to me, baby.” he says softly, starting to slowly move his finger in and out. “okay” you whimper and grip onto his hand tightly, your hips starting to squirm a bit.

he lets go of your hand and holds you down with his whole arm, not letting you move anymore. he starts to curl his fingers every time they go into you, speeding up the pace a bit more.

a soft moan escapes from your lips as he hits a certain spot inside you. “oh, did that feel good?” he asks and repeats the action, this time rougher than before, causing your legs to tremble. he repeats this a few more times before adding a second finger, stretching you out a bit.

“please don’t stop.” you whimper softly as your back arches. “oh i don’t plan on it.” he chuckles and continues to finger you. he starts to move his fingers in at an angle, causing them to hit that same spot perfectly.

loud, wet, squelching noises can now be heard in the room, mixing with the lobby music of the game still running on haechan’s computer. you whimper softly with each push of his fingers, you close your eyes tightly.

“im close.” you pant out as your whole body starts to shake. he starts moving his fingers faster, pushing them into your g-spot nonstop. his free hand moves to your clit, rubbing quick but steady motions.

“cum for me.” he says gently. you moan softly as you feel a familiar tightness in your stomach. you clench around his fingers as you feel yourself coming undone. his fingers don’t stop moving inside you, fucking into you roughly as you cum on them. your legs start to shake even more than they were before, he slowly pulls his fingers out after you completely finish.

he grabs your face gently to make you look at him. he then starts to lick his fingers clean, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. your breath quickens at the sight.

“hyuck.” you whimper softly, he smiles and pulls you to sit up, making you sit on his lap. he grips onto your hips tightly, making you grind into him slowly, your wetness seeping through his sweatpants.

“do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, rubbing one of your thighs while continuing to grind against him. you nod quickly, biting your bottom lip while looking at him. he shakes his head and pushes your hair away of your face.

“you can speak, you know? use your words.” he teases. you breathe in slowly and look at his lips, “yes, i want you to.” you breathe out slowly. he nods and tilts his head to the side. his hand moves from your side up to your chest, gently squeezing your boob through your bra.

“please, i need you.” you whimper softly while looking at him. your cheeks feel warm, probably a few shades pinker than usual. he smiles softly and nods, getting off of you to pull off his shirt. then, pushing down his sweatpants, his bulge very evident in his boxers.

he pushes his boxers down quickly, feeling eager to be inside you. "you ready?" he asks softly while slowly starting to rub his tip up and down your folds. you whimper softly and nod, spreading your legs just a bit more to give him better access.

he slowly pushes into you, a small grunt leaves his mouth as you squeeze around him. "so fucking tight." he whispers while he moves his hips a bit more. he leans down and nuzzles his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he thrusts into you slowly. your hands fall from his arms to the bed sheets, gripping tightly on the fabric.

he continues to thrust into you, hitting deeper with every movement. your breath hitches as you feel him pull out almost all the way. he suddenly pushes back into you roughly, not hard enough to hurt you.

“feel good, baby? fucking take it.” he grunts, his voice deeper than the last time he spoke. you nod quickly and grip onto his shoulder again, your other hand resting on his back. he starts to pound into you, gentle but still rough.

“im close.” he whines out as his hand finds it way lower, eventually finding your clit and rubbing gently. you let out a breathy moan as his fingers come in contact with it.

he speeds up his movements even more, the rubbing of his fingers on your clit start to sync with his thrusts.

“im gonna cum.” you cry out. “yeah? cum for me.” he says softly, not slowing down on his movements at all. your legs start to shake as you get closer. your nails dig into his back as he thrusts relentlessly into you.

you shut your eyes tightly as you feel yourself cumming, you unintentionally clench around his cock as you do so, causing him to whimper and shake his head. before you know it, haechan’s warm cum is spilling deeply into you. he pants heavily, still buried inside you.

he pulls his head away from your neck and kisses your lips gently, his hands kneading your boobs gently. he continues to kiss your lips, the kisses becoming a bit sloppy as he pulls out of you.

he leans back and watches as his cum slowly leaks out onto the sheets, staining them. his breath hitches at the sight, he looks up at you after a while as well, taking in your tired appearance.

he lays down next to you, rubbing your waist with his hand as he breathes heavily. “was that good?” he looks up at you. “yeah, it was.” you smile tiredly.

“we should take a bath before you sleep.” he suggests while looking at you. “no, im so tired.” you whine and shake your head. “fine.” he sighs softly, laughing softly a bit after because of your laziness.

“goodnight. i love you, baby.” he kisses your forehead gently and closes his eyes. “goodnight, hyuck. i love you too.” you whisper softly, your eyes slowly closing.

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note . . .

thank you so much for reading! i hope this wasnt too bad 😭 i haven’t written anything in a while so this is probably choppy af. i plan on being more active from now on hopefully! (no promises) i also want to thank everyone for the love and support on all of my last stories. i didn’t think they would get as much attention as they did and im so grateful. thank you! 💞

#kpop #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct u #nct x reader #wayv #lee haechan #haechan #haechan smut #lee donghyuck #donghyuck smut #haechan x reader

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0097linersb · 8 months ago

Text

No Control (m)

ONE SHOT

Pairings: Wooyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut ( pwp)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Exhibitionism with a non-participating person, beware.

Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3

“Isn´t it a bit too cold in here?” You asked the boy next to you after ignoring the shivers running up your arms for the past 15 minutes for the sake of not moving.

“Don´t think so,” Wooyoung shrugged, not even looking up from his phone which he had been lazily staring at for the past few hours.

You rolled your eyes and decided to look around for the air conditioner´s control yourself, to at least get the air blowing in a different direction instead of right on top of you. After fumbling around the pillows with no success, your frustrated eyes met what you were looking for: across the room, on the table, inches away from San´s busy hand, there it was, the solution to all your problems in all its shining white glory.

“San,” You tried calling but the man did nothing indicating that he had heard you. You tried again, louder this time, “Choi San!”

“He won´t hear you. Noise-canceling headphones,” Wooyoung informed and got a groan in response. “You can always stand up and get it, you know.”

“No,” You groaned, with a pout on your face.

Your friend rolled his eyes and reached his right hand under the bed, you heard the sound of a drawer being opened and suddenly a heavy blanket was being thrown on top of you, “Here, princess.”

You happily unfolded the fabric, tucking yourself under it and humming in content.

“Leave some for me,” He scolded you, grabbing the corner of the heavy blanket and pulling it towards himself.

“You just said you weren´t cold!”

“I was lying ´cause I didn´t wanna move, just shut up and let me watch my TikToks.”

You rolled your eyes for the tenth time that day. Teenage movies and fanfictions have lied to you that being friends with men was all flowers and rainbows, that they would protect you and do anything for you like you were a helpless beautiful little princess. The only things you´ve ever gotten from San and Wooyoung were purple bruises and poorly mixed drinks. Well, they did fix your computer every time something stopped working but that was only because they needed you to play to complete the squad and you were way better than Yeosang.

After 20 more minutes of doing nothing, a loud groan filled the room – Coming from you. Wooyoung jumped in the bed next to you and San as expected, didn´t hear it.

“What the hell was that?”

“My phone died,” You whined, burying your head deep in the pillow to express your frustration.

“Just charge it?”

“My charger is in my bag in the kitchen.”

“Then just take a nap.”

“Nooooo, entertain me.”

“Do I look like a clown to you?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ok, I just set myself up for that one.”

“You absolutely did. Hand me the remote,” You extended your hand waiting for said device.

Wooyoung´s free hand fumbled around the bed for a minute before exclaiming in success, placing the TV´s remote on your palm before going back to his phone. You turned on the TV and put on one of the shows you were currently watching, volume not too loud so it wouldn´t interfere with the audio on San´s Discord call since the TV was right next to his chair.

You quickly got distracted by the show, even with Wooyoung´s videos playing loudly right next to your ear and San´s occasional screams at Yunho and Mingi through his microphone. It did help that you had absolutely nothing else to do and there was an incredibly attractive man on the screen in front of you.

Every once in a while, Wooyoung would show you a stupid video he was laughing at and San got up one time to go to the bathroom, but besides that, everything remained the same for the next hour or so. That´s it until you felt Wooyoung´s hand wrapping around your thigh.

Your friend was a touchy person so it didn´t immediately register as something out of the ordinary to you necessarily - although normally when he touched your legs, it was usually never too far up from your knees and not right in the middle of your thigh like at the moment, but you excused that because his hands and your body were under the covers so he couldn´t really see what he was doing.

Even when his thumb started to draw soft circles against your skin, you didn´t think much of it.

Your body did go into alert when he started to move the tips of his fingers up and down your thigh, though. You looked over at him, lying in bed next to you but his eyes were glued to his phone like nothing was happening – which made you think maybe nothing was and you were just overthinking.

Jung Wooyoung, your friend of almost 3 years.

Yeah, your friend.

His fingers continued to trace your skin innocently enough and you enjoyed the display of affection for a while, goose bumps naturally erupting down your body from the touch, even internally laughing at yourself for having your mind in the gutter.

In 2 years of friendship, Wooyoung never tried anything with you or gave any signs that he would be anywhere near interested, quite the opposite actually - You literally saw the man not taking a shower for over 3 days once during summer break. Also, San was right there in the room. You didn´t know where those crazy thoughts of yours were coming from.

But oh well, turns out you should trust your instincts more.

After a few minutes of mindless petting, Wooyoung apparently had banged his head on the floor earlier, because his fingers started suddenly traveling to your inner thighs and every time his touches went up your knee, they inched down deeper between your bent legs when coming back down. You were too in shock to do anything immediately, eyes wide as you looked at the man once again, who was still laughing at a video on TikTok.

He was so good at pretending he was doing nothing, you almost considered you were hallucinating.

That´s it until his fingers inched so deep down your legs, the tip of his fingers touched the bottom of your shorts, a breath away from actually touching your core. Your body jumped in surprise, eyes finding the same scene as before when you tried looking to your side.

What surprised you the most though, was the way your walls sort of clenched around nothing at the touch.

Fuck.

While you were trying to process what was going on, he continued his ministrations, his fingers tracing softly the inside of your thighs up and down, ghost touches that had you holding back a squirm with all you had.

Eventually, what you figured was his middle finger, traced over your slit on top of your shorts and you couldn´t hold back the little spasm in reaction. That´s when you decided to stop that madness, looking at Wooyoung, who this time was already giving you a sheepish smile.

“What do you think you´re doing?” You whispered like San could hear it.

“Didn´t you ask me to entertain you?”

“Yeah, with like a gossip, not with whatever this is,” You exasperated, his finger pressing down right on your clit over your clothes, and you had to bite onto the inside of your cheek to hold back any reactions.

“And what exactly do you think this is?” He raised an eyebrow, his conniving smile still plastered across his face.

“One of your stupid little games.”

“Oh really?” Wooyoung asked, his hand trailing up to your abdomen where he played with the waistband of your shorts. “´Cause I kind of just wanted my fingers inside you.”

It was sad the way you felt yourself pulsing between your legs at his words.

“Shut the fuck up,” Your brain was short-circuiting, and his fingers were inching down, now toying with the elastic band of your panties.

“You´re the one asking questions.”

“You´re the one with their hand down my shorts.”

“Was bored,” He stated with a shrug, looking up at you as his middle finger found their way inside your panties and dipping it down your slit, “And apparently someone was enjoying it.”

He pressed a finger slowly inside of you just to prove his point, smirk growing bigger at the way it slid in with so much ease. All the thoughts of it being just him trying to prank you flew right out of the window.

“San is literally right there,” You breathed, heart almost coming out of your mouth.

“It´s not like he would see anything,” Wooyoung argued.

“Wooyoung,” You warned once he started pumping his finger deeper, you could feel the way he curled it because of how slow he was going. He was just teasing you and it was already driving you insane.

“I will stop if you want me to, if not just shut up and go back to watching your movie.”

He gave you no time to answer, looking once again at his phone, waiting for your verdict. You were sitting down, your knees were bent close to your chest, forming a tent around your legs, which meant no movements could be seen from Wooyoung´s hand in between there. He was half lying down half sitting up, his shoulders supported by two thick pillows and one of his hands was out from under the covers to hold his phone. The position didn´t seem suspicious at all and he never once stopped slowly pumping his middle finger inside you while you were having your little mental debate, and exactly because of that, your rational line of thought was getting further and further away by the second.

You could deal with the consequences later, or Wooyoung could since he´s the one who started this mess out of literal nowhere.

With no words you looked back towards the TV, noticing the smirk opening up once again on Wooyoung´s face from the corner of your eyes. His Tiktoks started playing loudly once again and he used his now more than coated middle finger to draw circles on your clit, your whole-body shuddering at the first contact.

You wanted to keep an eye out for San, to stop everything if he happened to turn around, but it was physically impossible to keep your eyes open with the way Wooyoung knew how to use his stupid fucking finger. Your breath was already so shaky and you had to harshly bite down onto your lip to stop any sounds from coming out.

Wooyoung was not even in a rush, his movements languid like he was just having his fun and had all the time in the world, which was honestly annoying because 1. you were already close and it was humiliating and 2. you couldn´t whine about it.

You sensed he somehow knew you were close to the edge because he soon stopped circling your clit to now let two fingers inside of you, carefully looking for your sensitive spot – which he found abnormally fast considering most times you couldn´t even find it yourself.

“If you keep trying to be quiet I´ll stop,” He warned, browsing through Tiktok like he wasn´t literally about to make you cum under the covers, not even batting an eye in your direction.

You took a nervous look in San´s direction to check if he didn´t listen to Wooyoung´s words, but his fingers were still angrily pressing his keyboard. You could even listen to Yunho raging on his headphones.

“He´s not going to listen, look” He rolled his eyes before raising his voice: “Hey San, you need to turn around and see how pretty Y/N looks with my fingers so deep inside of her-”

“Wooyoung,” You slapped his shoulder in shock, eyes wide as you looked once again in San´s direction from any signs he had heart Wooyoung´s almost yell. He didn´t seem to have.

“Oh,” Wooyoung smirked at you. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“Hey San, you wouldn´t believe this. Guess who´s clenching around my fingers every time I mention that you´re in the room with us.”

Wooyoung let out a genuinely amused laugh and you would punch him if he wasn´t right, you didn't know why and it was an unconscious reaction, but a shiver went up your body when Wooyoung teasingly called San and a whine literally slipped out the second time he did it. Maybe you had an exhibitionist part of you that was never uncovered before.

“So you like that San´s here, huh?” Wooyoung teased, “Kinky.”

You were doing your very best to keep any noises inside but the closer you got, the harder it became. Wooyoung seemed to appreciate it because he would speed up slightly after each sound you let slip from your mouth, which meant you were about to lose this battle very soon.

“I wonder, do you want us to get caught or the thrill is just in the fact that he´s here unaware of the mess you are from just my fingers?”

“Wooyoung, I´m close,” You breathed out.

Why oh why did you have to open your godamn mouth? The second you finished the warning, Wooyoung completely stopped what he was doing, fingers going still inside of you.

“Now that´s no fun, is it? I´m enjoying playing with you so much.”

“Wooyoung for fuck´s sake-”

“Do you guys want to order something to eat?” San´s voice suddenly surprised you, making you almost jump out the bed as you now watched him taking his headphones off. “I´m getting kind of hungry.”

Your breathing was even more erratic from the scare, but San was just innocently staring at the two of you, completely clueless to the way Wooyoung´s fingers were still inside of you and your walls were spasming so much around them you could almost cum with no stimulation.

“Yeah, me too,” Wooyoung agreed, his eyes once again so naturally glued to his phone.

“Do you want me to order it or will you do it?” San asked.

Fucking Jung Wooyoung decided that was the perfect time to start moving his fingers once again instead of taking them out like any normal person would once their best friend was literally looking at the two of you.

You were already so sensitive from being edged before, you had to dig your nails deep into the fabric of the covers to not moan out loud.

“I can order,” Wooyoung answered and his voice didn´t even shake. “What do you feel like eating?”

“See if any of the restaurants we like are opened,” San suggested.

This can´t be really happening.

You saw Wooyoung opening the food delivery app, scrolling down the options with one hand while the other pumped into you teasingly.

“There´s that italian place on sunset, the shawarma one, Mc Donald´s, the chinese one we had with Seonghwa, pizza, mexican -”

You stopped listening halfway through the list when the man next to you started to once again circle your clit. You wanted to physically stop Wooyoung´s hand but there was no way of putting your hands under the covers to hold his pulse without making what was going on completely obvious to San.

“What do you think, Y/N?” San directed his attention to you.

“Whatever is fine,” Your voice was really shaky and you couldn´t even look at San´s face for any reactions because not only were you too embarrassed, it was also taking every single fiber of your body to not moan out loud.

You were so fucking close but you were not about to cum with San watching.

Would it be too obvious if you elbowed Wooyoung super hard?

“You can´t say that because every time we order something that isn´t exactly what you feel like eating you whine the whole night,” San lectured you.

“Pi- Pizza then.”

Could San see you were shaking?

“Nice, what toppings?”

You were so so close, you were in fact about to cum in front of your friends no matter how much you didn´t want to. Wooyoung has been teasing and edging you all night but the one time you truly wanted him to stop, he was giving no signs that he would save you.

“I feel like pepperoni,” Wooyoung offered.

“Hm, I kind of wanted cheese.”

“Oh my god, just literally order whatever,” You groaned, or maybe moaned, you don´t even know anymore.

Just please turn the fuck around.

“Damn, -”

“Sannie, could you do me a huge favor first? Can you bring me some antacid? My stomach is killing me,” Wooyoung frowned in fake pain.

He was not even a little bit ashamed.

“Sure man, be right back.”

The second San was out of the room, Wooyoung threw the blanket to the side and practically jumped in between your legs, moving so fast you barely processed it until he was laying down with his head between your thighs.

“You gotta be fast love,” He smirked up at you.

“Oh, that won´t be a problem- Oh fuck.”

You had not even finished the sentence and Wooyoung had already grabbed the bottom of your shorts and panties and pulled it to the side, his mouth immediately meeting your clit – and your thighs his ears consequently.

Wooyoung´s free hand snaked between you two and he pushed two fingers inside of you while his tongue worked circles on your clit, you could even feel his soft plumpy lips against your skin and it was driving you insane enough to bite onto the back of your hand so you wouldn´t moan loudly.

While before he was teasing you and moving slowly, now he was eating you out like a man starved and it took about less than a minute to get you shaking under him and grabbing his hair.

Wooyoung looked up at you clearly pleased with himself, face looking like a mess as he placed your clothes back in place. You barely saw as he rolled back to his previous place and used the hem of his shirt to clean his chin, your brain was way too dead to think about anything at the moment other than catching your breath.

“Dude, you´re so lucky. It was literally the last o- Oh,” It was comical the way San suddenly stopped, frozen in place. You followed his eyesight to nothing other than Wooyoung´s sweatpants, where a very apparent hard-on - that he either didn´t get the time to hide or just didn´t care - stood tall. “Bro, have some fucking manners, there´s a lady present.”

You choked around air and held back your laughter.

“You´re right. I´m sorry for tainting your innocence with this sight, Y/N. I´ll be in the bathroom for around 10 to 15 minutes correcting my mistake.”

And with that, Wooyoung climbed on top of you to get out of the bed and leave the room. San took upon him to give you one last apology and explain some biology to you.

“Sometimes boners are involuntary, we can´t control it. Sorry you had to see that, Wooyoung was raised by animals.”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fics #ateez fic #san fic #wooyoung #mingi #yunho #seonghwa #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fics

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hanglimi · 7 months ago

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opposite - yu jimin

jimin is sick and tired of the stupid, good for nothing student who keeps throwing parties in the dorm room above hers. but woah, she's the complete opposite of what jimin imagined, and really hot too.

TAGS - jimin x f! reader, fluff, college au

WORDCOUNT - 2100~

WARNINGS - substance use, swearing, suggestiveness,

A/N - this is really dialogue heavy, and i can't tell if that's a bad or good thing.

“oh my god, does this ever fucking stop?” ningning whined as she sat atop jimin’s bed, her feet crossed over each other, laptop thrown onto one of the multiple pillows.

jimin threw her friend a questioning look over her shoulder. the girl was acting crazy, and she had no time to engage if she wanted to finish the paper her professor had given her weeks before. the longer she left ning alone, the better chance of there being no continuation to the conversation.

“seriously, jimin! this is driving me insane.”

“what the hell do you mean, ning,” she groaned, laying her head down on her table.

“the dorm above you! i can genuinely feel the ceiling shaking with how loud the music is, and it’s been like this everyday this week!” ningning was practically hyperventilating at this point, and sure, while jimin thought she was being a tad bit dramatic, she also had a point.

but unfortunately, jimin had gotten so used to the girl above her, and her endless parties, that she barely noticed it anymore.

“here.” she reached down into her backpack by the base of her desk, grasping around in the pockets for what she was looking for. she finally felt it’s wire as she pulled it out of the bag and threw it over to her friend, glancing back down at her respective laptop.

“earbuds? really?”

jimin ignored her question, getting back to work. If she wanted to pass this class before the end of the semester, she had no time to idly chat with her friend, no matter how much she loved her.

“jimin!” ningning screamed again a couple seconds later, her head in her hands. “how the fuck do you live with this?” she curled into herself on the bed, as if that would help with the walls literally bouncing with each bass hit from upstairs.

“remind me to never come to your dorm again. from now on, we're studying in the library,”

jimin simply giggled at the comment, tuning out the bass boosted audio and her best friend’s whining.

“damn, jimin!” aeri said, snatching the girl’s phone from her, pausing her music so she could hear what was happening, “how loud do you need your music to be to actually hear it?”

jimin gave her a sneer, and reached back for her phone, but it was just so far across the table, and minjeong was faster than her, grabbing it, and pocketing it. aeri chuckled at her struggles before slapping a hand over her mouth, slowly turning her head towards the front of the library, hoping she wouldn’t get a third warning from the librarian just today.

“her eardrums are probably nonexistent because of the bitch above her,” ning noted as she scrolled on her phone, obviously distracted from what they actually came here for.

“you’re still on about that?” jimin drawled, dropping her head and leaning down in her seat, giving up on trying to retrieve her device. “and was i the only one still on task? it’s literally only been thirty minutes, guys.”

“on about what?” minjeong asked, leaning into the gossip, “who lives above jimin?”

“dude, if i knew what her name was i'd tell you.” ningning sat up, getting ready to entertain her. “all i know is that she throws a party like every other day, and plays overly obnoxious bass boosted music. and the RA of their floor just doesn't care.”

“jimin’s on the fourth floor, right?”

jimin nodded at aeri’s question. she just wanted to finish the discussion, and get back to studying, but her friends obviously felt otherwise.

“oh my god, jimin, i fucking know who that is! it’s that y/n chick,” aeri said, laughing, but her eyes widened as she heard the loud shush of the librarian.

“as i was saying, everyone on the fifth floor despises y/n, like genuinely hates,” she said.

jimin groaned as the three of them continued to talk about every single rumour y/n was involved in, and she pressed at her eyes with the palms of her hands until she started seeing dots.

“i’m literally the one who lives below her, and i don’t care this much,” jimin complained, adjusting her body so she was sat in the chair properly. “unlike you guys, i actually have things to do, so give me back my phone, minjeong”

they all groaned at her words, minjeong muttering as she handed the device to the girl’s outreached hand.

“you’re such a buzzkill, jimin,” aeri let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“yeah, fucking buzz killer,” ning followed up.

“buzz kill~.” minjeong sang, giggling a bit with the other two girls at the end.

“shut up!”

the librarian near the main entrance lowered her glasses down her nose at the outburst, glaring at their table. “you four girls over there! out!”

jimin made sure to flip her friends off as she snatched her things away from the table, walking back to her dreaded dorm, with a huge headache caused from the three.

it was never this bad.

like sure, jimin would often notice how loud y/n’s music was, but she never really got this mad about it. it was only a passing thought usually, but today, she couldn’t ignore it. and somehow, her body betrayed her, leading jimin out of her dorm, into the elevator, and facing the perpetrators door.

she knocked once, letting precious seconds pass as she stood in front of the dorm room, tapping her foot against the floor, slipping into the beat of the drums that was in the song playing from inside the room. no one answered, even though she could tell from the yelling that there were at least ten people in there. she let out a deep exhale through her nose, and raised her fist to knock, hitting the door again.

jimin waited there a little bit longer, still tapping her foot to the song as her mind wandered to how she would deal with the infamous y/n. she waited for what she thought was eternity before she got impatient, and raised her fist to knock again, but before she could make contact, the door swung open.

“who are you?” the girl who opened the door asked, while jimin strained to hear her over her overbearing chewing of gum. the stench of liquor infiltrated her nose from the open door, and there was a light fog covering the room, hazing up her vision of any furniture in the dorm. the loud music was piercing her brain now, closer than ever, and it was making her headache stronger.

“is y/n here?” she asked in response, but the girl only stared blankly at her, continuing to chew. jimin’s jaw clenched at the lack of reaction, but assumed y/n's friend couldn’t hear her over the music.

“is y/n here!” she repeated much louder, leaning closer to the girl’s ear, but the girl shoved her backwards immediately, and sneered at her.

“i’m not deaf yet, bitch. i was just trying to figure out if you were one of her exes,” the girl scolded, leaning an arm on the doorframe and turning her body to face the inside of the dorm.

“y/n! did you invite one of your flings to our party again?” the girl screamed into the fog while jimin scowled at the back of her head. apparently, y/n responded, because she turned back around to face her after a couple of seconds. “y/n will be here in a few,” and she shut the door.

jimin already hated the girl, and she didn’t even know her name.

the door reopened after a few moments to who jimin assumed was y/n, and her heart leapt out of her chest at the sight. the girl was the complete opposite of how jimin thought she would appear, and she couldn’t believe she fell for what aeri had said before. the clothes she wore leaned to the pink, feminine side–her tank top a cute combination of red, pink and yellow–and she wore a pearl necklace to accompany the soft vibe. the look was coupled with a pink cardigan over top, which was falling down to reveal one of her shoulders.

jimin was definitely gawking at her too long, because the girl cleared her throat in annoyance.

“what do you need?” the girl’s voice was also the complete opposite of her look, siding more with what jimin had thought y/n would be like originally. the deep, rough tones of it scratched her brain in a way she never imagined before, and she almost melted right there on the spot.

“oh yeah! i’m so sorry about that. my name is jimin, and i live on the floor below you, right under your room, which is actually pretty cool, huh.” jimin stuttered through her introduction, her face heating up at the intense staring contest y/n had her locked in.

she quickly averted her eyes, wanting to look anywhere else but the student's face, “anyways, it usually hasn’t been a problem but-”

the girl cut her off, rolling her eyes at the long winded explanation. “i get it, you want us to lower the volume of the music, right?” she drawled, and her tone grated against the headache jimin had, further enhancing it.

jimin nodded her head rapidly.

“well we can’t.” y/n started, lifting her hand up to take a look at her nails which were–once again a contrast to her voice–painted a mix of pink and yellow. “not that we can’t, just that we won’t.”

jimin cocked her head in confusion, “you… won’t?”

y/n stood there, still observing her fingers, “you heard me the first time, cutie,”

even though she was slightly infuriated, she felt her heart jump at the pet name, and warmth rushed up to her cheeks once again, but she quickly shook away the feeling, steeling her face in anger.

“what do you mean by ‘you won’t’” jimin said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“exactly what it means, babe. we’re having fun, and if it’s really bothering you that much, you can leave the complex for a couple hours.” y/n finally looked away from her nails to stare up at jimin, giving her a smile, as if she was trying to soften the words.

“uh, no the fuck not.”

the girl’s eyes flashed with something jimin couldn't recognise, and y/n stood up straighter, a smirk playing on her lips at the words.

“so you stand your ground, huh?” y/n noted aloud, eyeing jimin from head to toe. “how about you come in here, and we can party together?”

“fuck you.” jimin said.

“that’s what i’m asking for,” the girl replied in a dull tone, rolling her eyes.

the girl was annoying her, and the constant flirty jokes weren’t helping jimin’s case either. she couldn’t tell if she wanted to feel flustered, angry, or perhaps a mix of both.

“i’m gonna get the RA on you. you’ll be kicked out of the dorms, or probably even the school considering the amount of weed i smell off of you right now.”

“you wanna talk to the RA about me?” y/n laughed loudly at the statement, covering her mouth with her hand, as she turned around to face the fog.

“hey, chaewon! come here,” y/n screamed over the music that was still playing, and she stood aside after a bit, letting chaewon pop her head through the door.

“meet the fifth floor’s RA!” the annoying girl cackled, doubling over at the look on jimin’s face.

the girl was wasted–jimin could tell by the dazed look in her eyes, and how she had to lean against y/n to stabilise herself.

“don’t tell anyone i’m here.” chaewon slurred, and hiccupped, slowly raising her pointer finger to press it against jimin’s lips, but she missed, and ended up poking her in the eye. “or we’ll all end up in trouble.”

“shit!” jimin exclaimed, pressing a hand to her eye trying to soothe the pain.

y/n’s mouth curved into a smile, and jimin couldn’t tell if it was from her pain or chaewon’s actions. she lightly pushed chaewon back into the room while telling her to ease up on the drinks, and came back to face jimin straight on.

“see what I mean?” y/n said, shaking her head at jimin’s poor attempts, further belittling her.

jimin scrunched her forehead up in thought. she wasn’t going to accept defeat, and let this go–that wasn’t who she was–and she didn’t want to see y/n’s stupid hot smirk again anyways.

“if you lower the volume of your music, and keep it there” she gulped, “i’ll do anything that you want me to.”

“really?” y/n eyes widened, “if so-”

“nothing sexual, of course.” jimin cut her off before she had the chance.

y/n giggled in response, “well then.”

#hanglimi #kpop gg #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #aespa x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #karina imagines #aespa imagines

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menteycorazoncito · 1 month ago

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Jacked and Kind - Rúben Dias

ᥫ᭡: pairing: Rúben Dias x reader

ᥫ᭡: request: Rúben doing the "boy who's jacked and kind" trend and being very smug about it. Based on this request

ᥫ᭡: a/n: Finally, a Rúben fic with many to come. I has so much fun writing this. Like, have you guys seen this man? He was made for this trend!!!!

navigation | request guidelines

The golden light of the setting sun shone in your living room, adding to the already cozy atmosphere. It was one of those evening where you and your boyfriend spent doing absolutely nothing. Rúben had come back exhausted from training, so the two of you had settled into each other’s arms on the sofa.

You were scrolling through TikTok, like always, until you stumbled across a TikTok of a couple doing the “boy who is jacked and kind” trend. Intrigued, you went on the sound to see more videos. Beside you, Rúben looked up from his own phone, to see why the same audio was playing over and over.

“What are you up to?” he asked a bit suspicious.

You tilted your phone towards him, showing him the latest trend. “We have to do this.” you insisted.

Rúben leaned closer, “You want me to do that?"

“Obviously,” you said, already on your feet. “You are made for this - ‘Jacked and kind’, that’s literally you.”

“Are you questioning my strength?” he smirked, clearly amused.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin on your face. “So, are you doing it, or are you scared?”

“Scared? It’s like you don’t know me at all.” he said, this competitiveness ignited.

Rúben gets up as you prop your phone up on the vase of a nearby cabinet. He stretched his arms, showing off, to tease you some more before stepping closer behind you.

“Don’t you dare drop me!” you warned him before starting the TikTok.

“Never.” he reassured you.

As Sabrina’s song echoed from your phone. Rúben came up behind you, and secured his arms around your thighs. He lifted you effortlessly off the ground and onto his shoulder like you weighed nothing. Your hand gripped his other shoulder for balance, laughter bubbling out of you. Rúben grinned smugly as he showed off his guns for the video.

To be honest, you were enjoying this more that you would have liked to admit.

When the recording ended, he set you back onto your feet. Both of you walked over to the phone to see the end result and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you watched your boyfriend lifting you like you were the lightest thing in the world.

“See? Perfection.” he said with pride.

You quickly pressed your lips together faking disappointment, as an idea popped in your head. “Hmm… it’s off beat. We didn’t get the timing right. But it’s okay.”

His eyes darted from the video to you. “No no no, I don’t do things okay.”

“Seriously it’s fine” you tried to play it off by reassuring him. “No one will notice.”

“Give me your phone” he was not having it. He took it and set it up again to retake. “We are redoing this.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that made it’s way onto your face from excitement. The truth was, you loved watching him show off his strength, and being lifted like that made you feel giddy. Like a teenage girl with her celebrity crush.

Rúben however caught up quickly on what you were trying to do. “... you little shit.”

“Huh?” you asked, faking confusion.

“We weren’t actually off-beat, were we? You just wanted an excuse for me to lift you again.”

“No…” you lied, slightly blushing at the fact that you got caught. “I said it’s okay but you insisted.”

“Oh, so I’m the problem now?” he teased, “Come here…”

Before you could protest, his arms were around your thighs, as he lifting you in the air again.

As the recording ended, he put you back down to watch the video. He crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly.

“Jacked and kind indeed.” you thought out loud, not hiding your admiration.

He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. “Only for you,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

taglist: @httpsdana

#footballer fanfic #footballer x y/n #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer x you #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x reader #rúben dias #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias #ruben dias fic #rúben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #manchester city #ruben dias one shot

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joosthead · 15 days ago

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skin || j.k. x f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ joost wants to make a song.

₊˚⊹⋆ for @spentandpent’s contest 😅🩷 (2 months late)

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader. notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 10.3k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (established relationship, consensual audio recording during sex, f!receiving oral, mirror, ruined orgasm, overstimulation, squirting, vibrator, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, creampie), kind of really porny i can't lie. pwp. crying both out of (momentary) sadness and because cumming 🩷 reader🤝being total crybabies🤝juno

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “skin” by mac miller, “p power” by gunna

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: vibrator. go big or go home right 🩷 as always @howisjoostfanfictionforfree my partner in filth 🩷 @spentandpent for infecting me w the overstim brainworms 🩷 and lovely @xiaoflan for listening to me complain about this fic ! 😆🩷 i love and appreciate you all 🩷 the art for the header is by one of my amazing best friends <3

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

“Are you ready, mijn schat?” Joost asks in a soft voice, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Ready as I'll ever be, Joosti.”

One of his nicest microphones is set up on your bedside table, wires crossing every which way, his laptop on the ground and hooked up to it.

This was an idea that came about spontaneously, as most things regarding Joost come about; on the train home together, sharing his wired earphones with each other and listening to your playlist of liked songs when Skin by Mac Miller came on. His ears perked up and his eyes brightened at the first few seconds, and you knew you were in for it.

There’s a woman in the first few seconds—she sounds like she’s having a positively great time, mewling softly, panting in a way that sounds almost like you when Joost is fucking you good. This was on your playlist?!?! You couldn’t fathom a situation where you’d listen to this in public, but here you were, hearing it all as you watched Joost and his mouth drop open a bit.

Your cheeks warmed and he poked you in the side—“Oh my god,” he said, taking your hand and shaking it. “You know what this means, right?” You shook your head no though you knew the answer—”Our turn!!!!!” He said it so loud that an old lady beside you gave him a dirty look, and he just smiled at her. “Can we? Can we?”

“Joost.”

“I just want to hear what it’s like—if I made a song and your beautiful voice was in the background like this or you were my little producer tag.”

“Very creative,” you laughed, sarcastic. Secretly…you two aren’t exactly public about your relationship. He would post about your anniversaries, your birthday, Valentine’s Day, your vacations; they know you exist, and that he has a long-term girlfriend, but you were so private you were almost elusive. “You want my moan in the back of your song?”

Something so…obvious under his belt. Something so loud. It was unlike you, and you knew it would never be released, at least not in the raw form he’d likely want it to be in, but it was still something. Something that made your stomach turn in that way that felt good and not scary, even with how rarely you were in the public eye.

You existed in the backgrounds of Joost, Appie, Alanis, Stuntje’s Instagram stories; you existed as a tag of a username, a pixelated and blurred out face in Joost’s photo dumps to protect your privacy. You exist out of the spotlight, in the background, not as the beat of his song, but you figure—it is only a matter of time until you join him in the sun.

“Who better than you? I want you everywhere, schat. Your moan will become my trademark,” he reasons, and as always—master of persuasion, at least with you. “One time. And it’ll just be between us, okay? Or mostly for me, I love hearing you.”

You decided in a quick second that you’d do it—all Joost has ever done is protect you, and even with your easily overthinking mind, this sounds fun as all hell to the little devil in your mind that wants everyone to know that he’s yours, you're his. No one else’s. Being possessive doesn’t come naturally in any other part of your life other than Joost.

“Okay,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder, holding his hand in yours. “Let’s do it, Joosti.”

“Wahhh—I love you!!!” Joost exclaimed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and going back to happily looking out the window.

“Mijn meisje,” he says softly, and it makes your stomach turn, the smooth glide of his voice as you lie back onto your pillows. You imagine how it’ll sound in the mp3 file. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, shaking your head. “We would’ve had sex anyway—why not make something of it?”

“It’s a big deal to me.”

You nod, “I can imagine.” Joost fiddles with a dial on the side of the microphone, presses a button somewhere else, tidies the wires. “What do you think it’ll sound like?”

Joost snickers a little to himself before starting— “Agh! Joost! Fuck me harder!” he whines, high pitched and teasing. “Urgh, Joosti, you’re so huge inside of me!”

“I do not fucking sound like that,” you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder to his barking laughter. “Schat, you’re so tight, I think I’ll cum in three seconds!”

“Hey!” Joost says, laughing as he leans to you for a kiss. “Okay, it might be the truth but I think it’ll sound good. As long as it’s you, we should win a Dutch Grammy for this.”

Outside the window, it’s rainy; the roof is pelted with the droplets of water of an autumn in Amsterdam, loud and incessant and comforting. Your room in this old house is humid with the moisture, but you’re sure it’s mostly just the two of you and your warmth making it feel so stuffy.

“We haven’t even made it yet and you want a Grammy?”

“Why not? I know we’ll get one, don't doubt us,” he grins, slinking off the bed and crouching in front of his computer. Joost’s customary wired earphones are plugged into it and he places a bud in his ear. “Mic check, 1, 2, 3,” he says, Joost Klein style, the sound waves appearing on the screen. “This issssss me and my baby’s recording session number one—“

“Number 1? The only one, Joost.”

“Okay, okay. Recording 1 of 1. Our ears only.” Pausing a little, Joost gets that expression on his face that lets you know he’s about to say something strange and he does: “Do you think we can make ASMR mouth sounds from this? Dutch kissing ASMR or something?”

“I think we can make more than mouth sounds when it comes down to it.”

Joost laughs, lifting his computer and placing it on the corner of the table behind the mic; gets up close to it, whispering and tapping on the wood of your bedside table like the people in the ASMR videos you both watch at his behest before bed, “Explain to them what we are going to do, schat,” you laugh and he shushes you, “This is very serious work, we have to be quiet, shhhh.”

“Uhm…” you say quietly, stifling back a snicker as you get close to the mic from the side. “We’re going to record us fucking—“

“Bad word, schat,” Joost whispers, shaking his head at you disappointedly, “Think about the advertisers.”

Tapping on the metal body of the microphone, you roll your eyes and start again, “We’re going to have s-word—“

“That’s better.”

“And record the sound from it so Joosti can put it in a song,” you whisper and he nods, mouthing, “Good job!” and giving a thumbs up before he brushes aside your hair to put the other half of his wired earphones in your ear.

Immediately, you’re met with the sounds of your shared soft breathing and Joost’s hollow tippy taps on the base of the mic. When he goes quiet, the pitter patter of the raindrops upon your roof are loud enough to hear clearly. “I turned up the sensitivity so we don’t have to move it around while we’re recording,” he says, and you nod.

“I can hear that.” Every single sound and movement you make for the coming hours will be captured on this little waveform. Your voice echoes back to you in your ears, and you scrunch up your face. “I hate my voice.”

“I love your voice, mijn schat,” he says, getting on the bed in front of you. “Sounds even better when you’re saying my name.” Smiling at him, you settle back against your pillows in your prettiest pajama set, a camisole and a pair of loose shorts, both printed with small blue flowers all over. Joost takes the ribbed fabric of your shorts between his fingers, tickling your thigh, “This one is my favorite one.”

“Every one is your favorite one,” you counter as you open your legs for Joost to sit between.

“As long as you are wearing it, schat—of course,” Joost says, sighing wistfully as he takes the earphones out from both your ears and drapes them on the nightstand. “Are you sure you don’t want to film? You’re so pretty.”

You roll your eyes as he laughs—it was definitely a topic of conversation after the fact, recording video of it like you have a few times before, just isolating the sound after. You argued that the sound from a real microphone would be better, and he argued, “Why not both?”

You shut it down, telling him that your room would just become your own personal porn studio if he did both and would never go back to normal, and he died of laughter as the old lady on the train gave you a shocked look and moved away.

No filming. At least not today.

“Do you want your song, or do you want a video?”

“That is an extremely hard decision, baby.”

“Make it before I make it for you.”

“I want my song,” Joost says, simply and finally, and you nod.

“You’ll get your song.”

Joost lies down on top of you and the weight is comfortable as he holds himself up with one hand and cups your face in the other.

He hasn’t shaved in a few days, his stubble scratchy against your chin as he comes forward and kisses you, soft lips against yours, his body warm and heavy and already grinding his crotch against your center as he slides his hand up your side, bringing up the hem of your camisole.

You’re hyperfocusing on all the sounds; you’re both quieter than normal, just the smack of your lips against each others, the licking of his tongue into your mouth; the sound of fabric against fabric as he grinds his hips into yours and groans, half-hard already; the shifting of Joost lifting your tank top and exposing your tits to his dilating blue eyes, getting back up off you on his knees.

Joost runs his knuckles down the curve of your breast and over to the other, making your nipples pebble in the already cooling air, your muscles jumping and leaping with how sensitive you are. “How cute,” he murmurs, and your cheeks burn. There’s something different about him today—if you think about it, if you were a music artist and your girlfriend let you record audio of how good the sex is, you’d be cocky too.

The confidence looks good on him, a small smirk on his lips as you gaze up at him through your eyelashes and take off your shirt completely, tossing it to the side and lying back again.

Joost tugs on your shorts and you shimmy them down as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, the sensation tying a knot in your stomach with want for him. “Why aren’t you taking off your clothes?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as he lies atop you again.

“Just want to try something,” he says, placing a kiss between your breasts before he moves over to your nipple, taking it in his mouth and kneading the other breast in his hand.

Grazing it lightly with his teeth, you let out a small hiss at the sensation before he closes his lips around it and sucks; your mouth drops open watching him as he does it, intent and content with his place on you. You just got him back after a month and a half away in Berlin working on music nonstop—you have an inkling that you both feel like this is where he belongs.

For a while, you both lie there as he mindlessly suckles at your tits, as you play with his hair and pretend like there isn’t a pool in your panties waiting to be addressed further than this—you don’t want to rush him. “Art can’t be rushed,” or whatever he says when he’s too busy editing visuals or tweaking his tracks in progress.

Stifling back a sigh, you tug at the short hair on the nape of his neck, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak of your nipple. A tiny little mewl lets itself out of your mouth as he laps at it. Pulling back with a pop, nipping at the skin next to it—“Dude…” he starts. “You’re being… so quiet. Is someone a little shy, schat?” Joost grins, kissing you.

You furrow your brows. You are but you’re not going to get called out by the most outgoing person you know like this. “No, I’m not.”

“I think you are, you haven’t said a word.”

“I’m not,” you insist, smiling once you realize that you have the perfect comeback. “You’re just not doing enough to make me say anything.”

Joost’s entire face changes, falling completely flat with his eyes narrowed at you and you grin. “Oh, I haven’t done enough? Is that what you said, lieverd?”

“I don’t wanna say it’s not enough. But definitely not enough to give you your Dutch Grammy award-winning sound bite. The pace you're moving, we’ll get a participation trophy at best.”

“I’m not doing enough—I am lying on your tummy letting you berate me while I suck your boobs, don’t think I forgot about the last month!!!” he exclaims, voice rough and accusatory and silly, smile so wide as he jabs his finger in your face. “Don’t think I forgot!!!”

“You’re still on that?” you laugh, squishing his cheeks, getting his hair out of his eyes.

“Duh,” he grumbles. “It’s half the reason why I wanted to do this.”

“Forgive me, then.”

There’s been no time for you to call or Facetime him in this past month; only texting and one-sided voice messages from Joost pleading for you to send him a voice memo back but you’ve refused, either willingly or unwillingly. You’ve been so tired, your voice and energy all going to talking to clients and people in real life that you just couldn’t muster the strength to send him back any after a long day—Joost couldn’t call for long either, too occupied with the final touches on the album.

He asked you one night, sleepy voice rasping about how he just wanted to hear you, and he sounded so hot—you texted back that you couldn’t sound sexy and all he said was that he didn’t care if you sounded sexy. He just wanted you.

Still, you couldn’t let it happen.

Joost whined all the way up until his train home got to the station; all the way home in the car as you drove him and asked about his work; all the way up to now, pouting with his prickly chin on your bare chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

“If that isn’t enough, how far can I go to get my audio clip, then?” Joost asks.

The both of you are competitive as can be with each other.

So long ago, you bet him he couldn’t make you cum just from internal stimulation alone—he proved you wrong and then some. He bet you last year (and every year before that you’ve been together) that he could last all of November not cumming—you manage to prove him wrong anywhere from 2-5 days before his birthday on the 10th. Everything is a competition, everything is a game for you two, that’s what makes the relationship so fun.

If you give Joost an inch, he’ll take a mile, and you know that better than anyone.

“As far as you think it takes, Joosti.”

Wordlessly, he gets up off from you and sits on the side of the bed facing the wall, in front of the mirror that’s there now—obtained at a swap meet somewhere in the city and hauled back by you both; standing against your wall, the top rounded in an arch, used mostly for outfit checks and Joost to try on a million different clothing pieces before he decides on things he wears all the time.

“Sit between my legs, baby.”

“Why should I do that for you?”

“Because I want you to do it for me,” he says, looking back at you and patting his lap. “Here. Sit down or none of this will happen.”

Usually, Joost is never so commanding—he’d rather ask you, sweetly and nicely to please do something for him. There isn’t a demanding bone in his body. And yet…

You take the seat between his legs and look at yourself as he hooks his fingers in the white and lacy waistband of your panties and pulls them down your thighs, down your calves. His lips ghost over the nape of your neck as he watches you in the mirror—Joost is always intense, always strong-willed, but it’s as if he’s come back a changed man.

“I want you to watch me do enough.”

He hooks his hand under your right knee; you let him bring your leg up and drape it over his, spread wider than you’re used to. The same is done to the other leg; if you tried to close them, you’d be unable to.

“I’ll get those sounds out of you if it kills me, lieverd.”

The cotton of his shorts, Tears as always; your shared necklaces resting on the chest hair that pokes out of the neckline of his wifebeater—they rub against your backside as you adjust your position on him, Joost’s warm and clothed body making your naked skin feel piping hot.

He places his hands on your inner thighs, squeezing lightly. There is the feel; of his rough fingertips gliding against your silky skin, dancing across the jumpy nerves of the junction between your leg and the beginnings of the most sensitive parts of you.

“Do you know how hard it was for me not to hear your voice for so long, lieverd?”

With his gentle hands, Joost spreads you open, exposing the most private part of you to both of your eyes, his chin hooked on your shoulder and looking down directly at it. You almost shrink into yourself, bringing you closer to his chest against your back, rising and falling steadily. In contrast, your breathing is so erratic, you feel as if your lungs might tire.

The microphone will pick up your labored breathing, as much as you’re trying not to make a single sound; the mirror reflects your furrowed brow back at you as he dips his fingers inside, light and gentle, bringing the wetness back up to circle your clit slowly.

“Mooi,” Joost murmurs, gazing intensely down at your form in his hands, putty in and between his fingers. “Look at you, hm?”

You’ve done this so many times—watched as he’s fucked you, in the mirror or when you watch your bodies meeting, over and over again when he fucks into you, cock reaching your deepest parts. But today is something different, you can’t tell why, but it brings hot heat to your chest and cheeks, to see it so clearly.

You can’t deny it—it’s you in that mirror, it’s you with your legs spread for him, it’s you.

It’s Joost behind you, a mess of blonde hair, no glasses on today, his rough chin against your shoulder as he pets you slowly. 1982 exposing you, 1983 doing the rest of the work.

“Als een mooie bloem, mijn lief,” he murmurs, two fingers spreading your lips, another rubbing your clit so gingerly you want to swear at him to go faster, harder, but you know he’ll just do the opposite of your wishes in this mood he’s in.

“A flower?” you breathe out, and Joost smiles at you in the reflection. Still though, you know your words aren’t what he wants at the moment.

“Pretty flower,” he says, and the smile is gone.

The sound—the sound of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit, the wetness from your pussy all he needs to do so, not spit or lube or anything else. Just the slickness of the back and forth of his hands on you.

The rain beats down on your roof, louder now, the backdrop for those filthy sounds coming from you. “You’re still so quiet, I think the mic will capture the rain more than you,” he mumbles into your neck, kissing and nipping at it. ”The quieter you are, the longer we have to do this.”

“Is that really an issue?” you say, labored through the consistent circles of your clit. You turn away, looking at the side of his face—“Ah, my god,” you whisper, moaning softly as he brings his hand up to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and kneading your breast.

“Not really, but I question how much you can take.”

“I can take a lot, you know that.”

“If you can take a lot—why are you looking away?”

He moves your chin gently so you're looking at yourself in the mirror again, and he’s looking at you so intently, pupils so blown out you'd almost think his irises were black. You look down at your pussy to avoid how burning his gaze is; watch as he pets at your entrance, and slides his two middle fingers inside, the stretch warm and all you’ve needed the past several minutes.

Still you hold it back, chomping down on your bottom lip not to let any sound close to a real moan out—you’ve made the rules for yourself: not loud enough to be usable, the least amount of sounds possible, and the biggest one, proving to be the hardest as he continues…don’t say “Joost.”

When Joost starts curling his fingers inside of you, pace slow as ever and he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit—you have to stifle a whimper, both at the sound, and the appearance of it, his fingers disappeared inside of you. “You’re really going to do this, lieverd?”

“I never said I’d make getting your song easy.”

“I like a challenge.” Joost gives you a kiss to your temple and you smile even as he ceases his fingers moving. “That's why you’re my girlfriend.”

“Hey,” you giggle, and then stop giggling when he moves his fingers faster and it makes a truly blushworthy squelching noise come from inside you. He does it again—why would he stop, seeing the way your face screws up in pleasure in the mirror at the pads of his fingers on your g-spot?

For some reason, you expected him to be nice about it, let you have a little break—but two can play this game, you know that well.

Your wetness is louder than even the rain, his rhythm making the sound almost incessant. “Do you think we could make that the beat?” he thinks out loud and you give him a bewildered expression.

“You…no. One day I’ll understand your thought processes.”

“What do you mean? You already do.”

You never realized how loud it could be to do any of this. Can people hear you so clearly all the time? Your neighbours, your roommates, strangers.

The countless times you’ve fucked in backstage dressing rooms, club bathrooms, the backyard—this is what it sounds like? There is no mistaking it. On the audio recording, it’ll be even clearer. Your voice, high pitched and breathy. Joost’s voice, deep and low and rumbling against your neck.

“How many people do you think, schat? How many have heard us?…I think they would like it, how it sounds when I’m inside you.” You shake your head, heat rushing to your cheeks and the tension in your chest rising at the same time at his words.

“You're so wet, my baby, and this is only the beginning—what about when you cum? How loud do you think you are then? What will my fans think when they hear this, hm?”

“Jo—mmm, fuck,” you sigh, stopping yourself from saying his name.

This shame and arousal growing inside of you—they’re like two sides of the same coin for you, and they accompany that tightening in your stomach, so close to cumming. The impish and petulant devil on your shoulder tells you not to do it so quickly, not to let Joost get what he wants after you agreed so eagerly to this entire thing.

You screw your face up, thinking of… paperwork and saying bye to Joost at the airport and sad kittens in animal shelters—you have never actively avoided an orgasm in your life, but this is working quite well, and it seems to be obvious.

“Schat, are you serious right now?” You open your eyes to see yourself and Joost behind you, his lips a straight line, no amusement to be found on his normally jovial face. “What are you doing?”

“Being a challenge, I thought you knew,” you say, voice more wavering than strong—your eyebrows furrow, a sheen of sweat on your forehead as Joost continues crooking his fingers right into your g-spot. Almost immediately, you lose your focus on keeping your climax away, melting into the pleasure of his thick fingers fucking you open.

“Say my name, baby, that’s all I want from you.”

“No,” you say softly, turning your head and resting it back on his shoulder—he knows what you want, and he can’t resist you. “Please?”

Joost looks at you, blue eyes so warm you almost think he’ll give you what you’re asking—a kiss, his lips on yours, but he only gets so close that your noses brush, that all you can do is breathe into his mouth and hope he gets closer.

You try to adjust yourself, but he holds you in place with his forearms, still thrusting his fingers inside of you, your face contorting in pleasure with every single move he makes closer and closer to your face, tipping you right over the edge, right where your climax is and then—

Nothing.

As quickly as he moved them, Joost takes his fingers out of you, resting them wet on your thigh as you tense with what you thought was going to be an orgasm, a tidal wave of bliss flowing through you. In reality, the waves subside quicker than usual without him fucking you through it, and the sensation is ruined—almost completely.

Pathetically, you let out a whimper, can’t even let out the moan or the gasp of his name he wants so badly, that’s how miserable it feels. Joost’s never done that with you before—he’s always gotten you to the peak and rode down with you through it, kissing and licking and petting you through it and even past that point, mischievous and pushing your buttons when you swear at him to give you a break from all the bliss.

“Joost,” you pout, eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me? You weren’t doing what I wanted, schat, why should you get a good one out of that?” Joost scoffs, and though he doesn’t seem too serious, breathing heavily against your back with you, you can’t help but feel like you did something so wrong. “You’re playing too much.”

It makes sense now—he asked you for one thing—one thing.

Wasn’t much to ask, either. Microphone and equipment straight from his yet to be unpacked suitcase. Joost’s one reprieve from album mode until he’d take the train back for him and Tantu to do a final once over on every single track. This stage in the process takes weeks, sometimes even months—pushing too many buttons on the control panel, their soundboards and computers and plans all prodded and poked and pushed to the limit until the project is the amalgamation of their creative vision and perfection.

This time, you pushed too many buttons; through all of this, you’ve forgotten that Joost has been at home less than 24 hours, that the train ride from Berlin to Amsterdam was 6 hours long with no stops, no wi-fi, no you to soothe his worries, only album preparations far past his self-imposed deadlines and his own thoughts.

You’re both workaholics—it’s why you get along so well, but it means that you know better than anyone that the last thing you’d want to be after so long is annoyed, and annoyed on purpose at that.

When he’s as petulant as you’ve been so far, you know that you can get annoyed as well, asking him to just—stop. And he does, but you couldn’t do that for him. Joost has gotten frustrated with you before, sure, it happens enough that you’re not so affected by it anymore.

But he’s never been so frustrated before that he’s ruined your orgasm. For some reason, the expression on Joost’s face, the heat of the moment, the dull pulse between your legs at both your immense need for him and the emptiness you feel at such a clipped climax has you emotional and overanalyzing the last half hour, every bratty quip of yours, every response from him.

“I’m really sorry, I know you had a long few days, I shouldn’t have—” Water lines your eyes, and you try to blink it away when you ask in a weak voice, “Are you mad at me?” You feel terrible. Embarrassed.

Joost meets your eyes in the mirror, eyes widening in surprise at your emotions strung so tight; you break, a tear running down your cheek which you quickly wipe away because you feel like you're making a big deal out of things and it’s just—aghhh!!!!

“No, my baby, of course not,” he smiles, face sympathetic, lips pouting at his baby being so emotional. Such a reaction would usually make you roll your eyes at him, but he’s so sweet, you have to nuzzle closer to him. “Come here,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and letting you curl up in his lap. “You’re so cute, mijn schat,” he coos, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek as he hugs you tight.

Joost is so kind to you, it makes you feel a bit silly—not in a bad way, just one where you’d never think you’d be sitting on his lap, naked, being comforted about having your orgasm ruined by him. Almost five years of this kindness, you’re not sure you’ll ever be used to it.

“I just got a little frustrated that’s all, none of it was serious, okay? I thought it would be a little fun for us to try something new like that, but I should’ve talked about it with you before—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, wiping your eyes a little. “Just don’t look so serious next time, I really thought you were angry.”

“I got too in the moment, I guess.” Joost moves your hair aside and kisses you on the lips, tender and sweet. “I’ll make up for it, I promise you.”

With that, you nod, letting him kiss you, letting him suck your lower lip in his mouth and then lick into yours, touch so devastatingly slow it almost makes you whine again with anticipation. Joost places a gentle hand over your throat, giving it a small squeeze, and he laughs when you moan, quiet and stifled into his mouth at the pressure. “You know, you’re very pretty when you’re desperate,” he says softly when he pulls away, and your cheeks burn.

“I could say the same about you, Joosti.” He noses at the side of your face, and you melt at the feeling of his skin on yours. “Am I not pretty all the time?” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t start, schatje. Gorgeous, beautiful angel—is that what you want me to say? Lie down and hold your legs back.”

Quickly, you get off of him and lie back down on the bed on your mountain of pillows, and he takes his place sitting between your legs, wet fingers running through your folds as he takes a look at you, all of you. “Aren’t you pretty?”

He takes your left hand, kisses your palm then your fingers, then he places it firmly on the back of your left knee. He does the same for your right side, then lies in between your open legs, staring, examining. One finger down your slit, collecting your wetness on the tip—Joost leaves a bite on the meat of your ass, trailing kisses all the way until he kisses over your entrance, over your clit.

You breathe heavily with anticipation, but still, you find it in you to tease. “Doing a lot of silent things for an audio recording, Joosti.”

“Not silent—all of it is important, every second.” He shakes his head to

“Defeats the whole purpose of the audio? Doesn't it?” You smile, flexing your ankles, feeling your muscles stretch as Joost teases your clit with his index finger, makes you open your legs wider. “The whole point is to record how good you make me feel, right?”

“You want to be silent so badly for me, you want to play around so much—why are you calling me out for it? That I want us to have fun?” Joost rolls his eyes, but then smiles at you, trying to soothe the burn. “I like when you play,” he murmurs, then spits on your pussy, making you full body shiver when you do. “Play even more, let’s make this recording go hours.”

“And I’ll cum all I want?”

“Careful what you wish for.” Joost rubs the spit over your bud, spreading you with two fingers and petting at it with another. “Als een prinses, schatje. Spoiled.”

“Spoiled,” you mock, and he shakes his head at you, grinning.

You probably shouldn’t rile Joost up so much—it’s too late for you to save yourself when he dives in, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. The spit and silky softness of his tongue make you keen, how good it feels to have him on you, his lips sucking so much, so good, so wet.

The slide of Joost’s finger inside of you surprises you, how gently he pets against your spot internally as he laps at your pussy; you sigh, having to close your mouth on purpose to not make any sound. He sucks your clit between his lips, tightening, loosening, several seconds passing as he continues the pattern, making you groan with the feeling of him eating you out so well. It’s too much; you cry out when it hits what feels like 10 minutes with his tongue on you, but is really only 20 seconds at most.

Too much, so good—bucking your hips up, you squirm, futile against his strong hands holding you down by the backs of your knees folded almost to your chest as he drinks you in, the wet sound of his mouth smacking against you so humiliatingly wonderful you could cry. How are you supposed to stay silent now?

“I’ll never get enough of this, lieverd,” he says before diving back in, lips wrapped around your clit as you moan out at the suction, whining as you hold onto his arms for support, because pushing against him is no use—either way, who are you kidding? The last thing you want is for him to stop, especially after that first “orgasm”. Completely breathless, you stop trying, tired hips back on the damp bed sheets.

“Good girl, baby,” Joost praises at your defeat, your finally being subdued. The nickname makes you shudder, arousal pooling deep in your stomach, and you squeeze at his arms for some sort of comfort in response.

Joost nips at the thin and sensitive skin of your inner thigh and it makes you yelp, then he comes back and licks through you again, fucking his tongue inside of you.

There’s no sense of organization or pattern anymore with what he’s trying to do—he’s lost it. He’s lost it.

Your climax hits you like a freight train, your stomach and thigh muscles spasming, any control you had—lost. “Mmmf…fuck!” you exclaim, throwing your head back on your pillows as Joost keeps sucking your clit through your orgasm, white on the edges of your vision at how intense he’s doing it. “Ugh… shit!” you cry, panting out when he keeps going.

“It’s only a matter of time until you give me what I want, schatje,” he says in a quiet, sing-song voice, then attaches himself back to you. Your clit is practically numb with pleasure now, and yet, the waves are rolling through you, erratic and wonderfully uncomfortable.

You laugh out, tears at the edges of your eyes at how intense your nerves feel, how fried they are—“Joost, enough!” and he lets up off you. He sits back up and pouts at you, lips and cheeks wet with your arousal.

“‘Jooooooost!!!’” He laments, cursing at the sky in jest, and you laugh at how dramatic he is. “The line is ‘Joost!!’ Lieverd! Joost!!!” he says his own name in a weird, breathy moan that you’re half sure really will make it to a final draft of a song of his.

Holding yourself up, legs open and so wet between them, you purse your lips for a kiss, which Joost gives you. “You said we can make the recording go hours—I’m sure I’ll say it one of these times.”

“Okay, I’m glad I say the recording can go long—I will need a minute.” As Joost pulls back, you tilt your head to the side; he sounds… strange. Embarrassed, almost, and his cheeks are pink, and he can’t look you in the eye anymore, completely different from your ravenous and intimidating boyfriend from 45 minutes ago. “I think I came in my pants.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoff, throwing your head back and laughing.

Joost gets back up off the bed, stands. “Do I look like I'm kidding?” he says, pointing down to the wet spot on his crotch—he must’ve ground against the bed too much, how cute.

“You haven’t done that since we started dating,” you laugh, watching as he strips off his shorts and his underwear looks just as bad.

“Well, I did it again. Your fault. This sucks.” Joost shimmies down his boxers, picking them up and throwing them in the hamper; it hangs on the rim, he’s already soft, and he looks at you so dejectedly, then at the ground. You start to say ‘aww’ —he’s so cute and pathetic this way, but he wags a finger at you, saying, “Do not say ‘aww’ at my dick, you’re annoying,” and it makes you laugh harder until he’s laughing too, climbing on the bed and kissing you sweetly, pulling back only to take off his shirt and then immediately come back to you.

Laying atop you, he wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling at it gently with his teeth as you wince in the pain and the pleasure. Joost lays his tongue flat against it, laps at it, switches to the other one.

“I just love you,” he sighs, latching onto you again immediately after, and it makes you smile—insatiable, truly.

A few moments of this—letting Joost lave over your skin, the stiff peaks of your breasts, sucking hickeys into the meat of them—and he’s ready to sit back against the headboard together.

Your legs are open and his hand is between them in an instant, running his fingers along your skin. It feels strangely electric…not his fingers on you, but his arm against yours, the side of his sweat-sheened body against your hip, what it feels like to see “Thanks for today” on his collarbone and your name and lipstick mark tattooed on the other side of his neck forever.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Joost’s voice—“Why aren’t you saying my name, hm?” he says, gazing at your lips, his nose brushing against yours. You press a chaste kiss to his chin as he circles your clit, spreading your wetness around with his fingers. “It’s mean. It is sinister, what you’re doing.”

“You’re gonna have to work for it, I’m serious.”

“I will work overtime, I’ll be just like you,” he smirks, and shuts you up when he attaches his lips to yours, slips his middle fingers inside of you, grinds the heel of his hand on your clit as you gasp into his mouth, let him move down and suck at your jaw, your pulse point.

The concentration it takes not to lose it makes your eyebrows knit together. He murmurs, “Do you hear that, my love? Do you hear how wet I make you?” says it into your open and mewling mouth, the sound of it all—the squelch of your wetness at the behest of his fingers fucking your pussy. You’re beholden to him, and he enjoys it so much. The person you are at work and in life; normally so collected, preferring the comfortable quiet of your life together, now so bold to let him do this.

“Wat een mooi geluid, mijn meisje. You have me under your spell—what will happen when everyone hears this? Your siren song, hm? Is that what you want? Everyone to know how good I make you feel?”

The surprise on everyone’s faces that you could sound like this, all because of Joost—goofy, grinning, laughing Joost. Serious as ever about coaxing these sounds out of you as he kisses you slowly, tongue so languid on yours, tempting you, seducing you into giving him what he wants.

You’re almost delirious, the bubbling of laughter rising in your body as you grip onto his arm, so big, three of Joost’s thick fingers nestled inside of you and curling against your spot, stroking it with no abandon. You’re stretched thin around him, squirming and twitching with the rising peak coming to a head in your body.

He doesn’t even thrust his middle fingers in and out of you; only keeps them there, deep and to the knuckle inside of your pussy as he curls his fingers inside of you again and again, petting and petting and petting at the most sensitive part inside of you. At the same time, he circles your clit with his thumb—you could almost pass out with how good it feels, how hot you are in this room, rain beating on your roof, his mouth on yours and receiving every single moan and breath you put out.

The only thing absent is a crackling fire and a bottle of wine to fit the mood, but you can’t really complain.

“Happy?” he asks, smiling.

“Joost,” you choke out, eyebrows furrowing as you gaze at him, then close your eyes, touching your forehead to his, clutching his bicep, the challenge to yourself not to say his name all but forgotten.

“Yeah, baby?” Joost grins—in the pursuit of his craft, your boyfriend has turned evil.

“I feel like…” you start, face screwed in pleasure, words stolen from you by his curling fingers, confused at this feeling inside of you you’ve never felt before. “I just feel…”

“What is it, baby?” Joost teases, fucking into you, devilish. “Can you tell me? Can you use your words, like I’ve been asking you to?”

“I’m gonna…”

Burning hot and building up and up and up inside of you, in your stomach, in your chest, your tired thighs tensing the knot in your stomach tightens and tightens and tightens until it snaps, hard and fast; you don’t even realize the curses and almost chanting of his name tumbling out of your mouth as you look down and see—

Clear liquid runs down from your pussy, down your ass as you groan out, a punched out moan tumbling from your lips. The wet squelch around his still moving fingers even louder now—oh my god? There’s wetness beneath you now, a small laugh of disbelief coming from Joost as you gush all over his fingers and hand and writhe with your powerful climax, the bed under you wet, the comforter wet, everything wet, and all because of Joost.

You whine and he nods, smiling at you. “Schatje…I didn’t think it would work…”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, half laughing and half embarrassed at the mess you’ve made, panting and completely out of breath. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?! Mijn schat, that’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, I think.” He takes his fingers out of you with a sound that makes you cringe, and holds his hand in the air, fingertips dripping with your wetness, shiny and slick. You had no idea you could even do that, let alone feel whatever white hot pleasure was ripping through you while you did, and you laugh at his amazement with your hands over your mouth.

“We’ll have to change the sheets again,” you pout once you realize—you just changed them yesterday before he got here, and the other set of sheets is dirty. Ughhhhh.

“I’ll wash the other sheets—I would change them a million times over if it meant you doing that again.”

“We’ll run out of sheets before that happens, Joost.” He hates changing the sheets, but he’s so desperate for it, obviously.

“I’ll make new ones,” Joost says proudly, then kisses you. “Please don’t worry about the bed. I’ll take care of it, and to be honest, I would like you to mess it up even more.” Kiss on your lips. Your worries have melted away with it. “You were so good to me, yet I still didn’t get my song. Tell me, why is that, mijn schat? You want me to torture you for longer?” he says softly, kissing you on the lips.

“It’s not torture,” you breathe out and Joost laughs. “I said your name, what more do you want from me?”

“It’s not torture? Is that right?” he asks, and you nod, coming up to kiss him again, “I want to be inside you, lieverd, that’s what I want.”

Only now do you notice that he’s hard again—the same hand he used to finger you wrapped around his cock, your wetness his lubrication alongside the precum drooling from his tip. “That’s what you’ll get, then,” you say, sweet and smiling and so ready for it even after Joost has had his way with you for what feels like hours now.

It’s your wetness that’s darkened Joost’s arm hair and the hair on his stomach; your wetness facilitating his sharp sighs as he pleasures himself to the sight of you, the thought of you, the sound of you.

Beaming, Joost turns away to the side. “If it isn’t obvious to you, the audience,” he says into the microphone in a silly voice. “This is the first time I’ve made her squirt, and she still wants me so bad!! What the fuck!! I am sooo so lucky!!! What amazing sight, wow. Shoutout lieverd, for real!!” Your laugh is sure to be captured in the background, your small “Shoutout Joosti!” too. Joost turns back to you—”My one in a trillion, baby,” a kiss to your lips, your body being laid on the damp sheets again and your legs opening in response.

“mijn_schatje_loml_voor_altijd_TANTUPLSDONOTLISTEN.mp3” has been running for 1 hour, 33 minutes, 8 seconds, 3 milliseconds—feels like so much longer. Joost lies between your legs again on his stomach, his cheek on your thigh, his calves in the air swinging and happy and him batting his eyelashes at you “innocently.” “Dickhead,” you laugh, knowing he wants to put his tongue on you again, and he laughs too.

“Your favourite one, though, right?”

“Yes, my favourite one.” You roll your eyes at his giggles but smile nonetheless at him. “I want you inside me, Joosti, don’t make me wait, please.”

Joost holds up a finger—“One criticism—”

“Already?!” you exclaim. “What is it?”

Joost gets up off of you and goes to the dresser to the side of your bed. You tilt your head in confusion—there isn’t much in there he could need for the rest of this, but he seems to be determined. “I think it’s the cutest thing when you call me Joosti and I never want you to stop doing that,” he starts, rummaging through the drawer. “But I think for the sake of the song, or your part in it, it would be better if you just said ‘Joost.’ Can you do that?”

“I can do that, Joost,” you tease, your perfectionist musician of a boyfriend coming out in full force.

“Good, good, schat. Now can you say it while I’m using this on you?”

Joost turns around holding…Ole Reliable, the name you both call a taupe vibrating wand that was your best friend before you two started dating, is your best friend when he’s gone for longer than a month or two and your fingers aren’t enough when you two are FaceTiming…to Joost’s absolute displeasure. When he’s home, it hides in your underwear drawer—but trust, he knows where it is.

“Be serious, Joost,” you laugh in disbelief. There’s no way that Ole Reliable will be part of this with how much lighthearted vitriol Joost has treated it in the past, calling it his “mortal enemy,” his “biggest competition.” This isn’t real.

“It takes you like, 3 hours to cum after I’ve made you cum so many times, this will help,” he shrugs, and he’s right. You’re so overstimulated at this point that he’d have to fuck you for longer to get you over the edge, but the vibrator is a bit overkill—it’s powerful, and you’ve made your own legs shake with it countless times, with or without Joost.

“I think I’ll end up…squirting—ew, I hate that word—even more if you use it.”

“It’s not so bad of a word, mijn schat. And either way—bed is already dirty. Why not go all out so we don’t have to clean up again?”

Joost makes a good point, and you know he’ll want to see more of your newfound ability later on—minimizing the cleanup later sounds good, so you lie back, open your legs, run your fingers through your wet folds as his eyes widen at your eagerness. “Let’s go all out,” you giggle and he flops on top of you, exclaiming, “Yayyyyy!!!”

It’s slow, the way he hooks your legs over his thighs, long presses the button of the vibrator, presses it again once so it turns on completely, and then recoils in surprise when he presses the largest button again and again. “Whaaattt the fuck, I didn’t know there were so many patterns in it. That is crazy. You use this?! What is ‘thumping feature.’ There are so many buttons. What…” Joost looks at it in wonder, the vibrations sure to be going through his entire forearm—that thing is strong, and you know it.

“There are only 2 buttons, Joost.”

“That is a lot to me.”

Cycling it back to the lowest, most tame setting, he places the head on your clit, gentle; you hiss at the waves coming through you, even at the lowest rate it could possibly go. “Do you like that, baby?” he asks, voice low, other hand coming down to slip a finger in your pussy. “You look like you love it.”

Nodding, Joost takes your hand and wraps it around the handle of the wand, and you hold it against yourself as he jerks his cock between your legs, enveloping the warm head of it in your entrance. It slips in so nice—you’ve been ready for it for hours now, you'd be surprised if it didn’t just slide in. Your eyes roll back, the back of your head hitting the wire frame of your bed, the vibrations coursing through you and his big cock parting your slit.

“Oh, fuckkk, schat,” Joost moans as he sinks into your soaking wet pussy. “So fucking wet, baby, you feel so good.”

Breathless, you nod, as Joost glides right in; he’s thick, but you're so wet. Three orgasms and counting for you, it’s so easy now. Angling the vibrator, you move it so you can see it all—how messy it is when he pulls his hips back to adjust how he’s thrusting into you, his pubes and happy trail wet with your juices, the hair on his thighs wet as well. What a mess you’ve made.

“Oh my god—“ he says, rolling his neck back in pleasure once he finally bottoms out inside of you, the wand pressed against his pelvis just as much as it’s pressed against yours. Joost bites his lip, shaking his head. Not so much of a mortal enemy, after all, is it? “How do I compete with this thing…”

“This thing could never be you, Joost,” you breathe, and it’s true. So tired, so happy, you’re a little emotional about it for some reason.

How he holds you so warm and safe and tight, always, never a question on if he wants and loves you—he always does and always will. In bed together like this, sheltered from the rain in your home together, your cats scratching at the door and a whole life ahead of you; on the train giggling with each other about the middle-aged and elderly side-eyeing his barking and boisterous laughter; in club bathrooms and snow covered curbs and swimming pools in your backyard and the couch downstairs.

The rest of the world should be envious about what you have, who you hold. Joost, this house, that audio recording, and you, forever.

“Hehe!” Joost leans over to the microphone and gloats into it, “Me—1! Vibrator—zeroooo! Hahahahah!”

You laugh—and this, forever. You could never trade this in.

Pulling Joost in, you kiss him sweet and slow, little thrusts of him inside of you as he moans into your mouth incessantly, every breath of his a whimper, it must feel so good—buried balls deep in your pussy, vibrator against your clit and pressed against the few centimeters of shaft that can’t fit in you when he begins thrusting inside of you sloppily, the hollow clap of his hips against you filthy as you moan out his name against the humming backdrop of the toy you're using together.

Every nerve in your body winds itself tight around the coil in your stomach as he fucks into you, a smooth and steady rhythm that makes you lose yourself, trying to wrap yourself around him, wanting to devour him whole, wanting to make it so it’s just you and him and no one else in the world, no one outside these walls, no one else. With Joost breathing into your mouth, his sweaty bangs tickling your forehead, the taste of his tongue on yours—there might as well be no one on this earth except you and him.

“I can't do it, Joost, it’s too much,” you whine as he keeps driving into you—god, you want it so badly, but three and a half orgasms later and you’re entirely spent, letting him do all the work as you moan loudly, no control over yourself or your body. The vibrator is pressed flush against your clit and gets you to the precipice faster than you’d like right now.

“You can do it, baby,” he coos, and you know there’s no way to get out of this. Either way, you wouldn’t want to, legs wrapped around him, the buzzing of the vibrator such music to your ears, the feeling of his cock driving into you and Joost, a warm and heavy and perfect weight atop you. As you claw at his shoulders, his back, he holds you open with his strong hands, your squirming no match for his strength with every deep seat of his cock inside of you. “I know you can, you can do it.”

When he says it, you believe it; you have to bite and suck at his neck in order to focus on keeping it together long enough for him to cum, apologizing to Lola in your head at your treatment of her, how she’ll be blooming purple and red by the time the sun rises tomorrow. Joost ruts into you, pressing the vibrator hard to your clit and it’s so…it’s so much, the mattress squeaks with how spirited his hips are against you, loud slaps of skin against skin and your name, his name, intertwined on this wavelength, on this track for everyone to hear.

“Joost…fuck, Joost!” you cry out again and again, tears coming to your eyes with how hard and fast your orgasm rips through you, repeating Joost’s name like a prayer, an oath, gushing around him and too fucked out to kiss back properly when he licks into your mouth, grounding you back to this bed even as you sob out in pleasure, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at how amazing he’s making you feel. “I love you,” you breathe, blissed and fucked out tears streaming down your cheeks at how good it feels, all open and airy.

“Why are you all sappy, baby? ‘Cause I’m fucking you so well?” Joost teases, pressing wet kisses to your tear stained cheeks, your mouth bitten red with his nips, his kisses all throughout this.

“Yes, I love you, Joost,” you sniffle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer even if it means the vibrator gets pushed even harder against your aching clit.

He laughs, continuing his feverish thrusting as he finally gives you the kiss you want. “I love you too, mijn hart.”

You don’t notice him fumbling around on the side table as he kisses you, bringing the wired earphone from the nightstand back to your ear, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Do you hear that, mijn schat?” The feedback, his voice, doubled and almost echoing as you hear it in real life and it plays out in your ears, delayed. You have to try and dampen the rest of your senses to focus on what you’re hearing. The slopping of his hips against your ass, the low pitched vibrations of the wand, his voice.

Joost’s voice that distracts you until you’re snapped out of it by him pulling out, stroking his cock and panting heavily, cheeks and chest and neck pink with exertion, skin shining with sweat. “What are you doing?” you mumble.

“You’ve already done so much, schat,” Joost breathes, and you shake your head, looking up at him through wet eyelashes.

“Finish what we started, I want it all.”

Obediently, Joost nods, inching himself back inside you again; it sounds so wet in your ears, the microphone capturing every gritty detail, every squelch of yours and his.

“Schat, I wanna…fuck, I wanna cum inside you so bad,” he whines, erratic thrusting with every word, losing it again, losing the practiced, methodical musician that you know so well. Even with his whining, his voice is deep, needy, chanting your name like you moaned his. “Wanna…fuck, I wanna fuck it in you ‘til it takes, I want everyone to hear it, see it, know you’re mine…mine, mine, mine…”

“Yeah, baby?” you smile, his cheek laid against your tits as he grinds against you, then goes back for long, deep strokes inside of you. Joost groans so loud against your skin, spit and sweat on the softness of your breasts; so overwhelmed, he takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks, nipping at you through his own orgasm, stuttering his hips into your pussy.

Warm ribbons of Joost’s cum paint your insides and fill you up so well, your moans finally joining his as he comes down from his high, moaning and sobbing out your name, lieverd, schat, collapsing on your chest and heaving for his breath again as you catch yours once more, satisfied with your recording together.

“That a good enough song for you, Joost?” you smile, eyes already closing with the bliss of such a good recording session together.

“Dutch Grammy worthy, mijn meisje,” Joost breathes, and you laugh as he reaches to the side and shuts his laptop, ending your recording. “How about another recording session later?”

—

A month later and you’re carrying a paper bag of takeout from a few blocks down, earphones blasting a new demo from Joost and Tantu, using the spare key under Tantu’s doormat to get into his apartment from the cold. You set down the bag on the counter of his tiny kitchen, place the key back under the doormat, get three bowls together to split the takeout between, get utensils and glasses of water and what have you before you enter the bedroom studio.

The takeout fights you tooth and nail; cheap food spilling everywhere, oil and sauce and vegetables on the counter and the rims of the bowls that you have to wipe up with the one (1. ONE!) paper towel left on the roll in the kitchen. Is this what happens when Ruby isn’t in town and they’re in album mode? You figure it must.

You manage to wrestle it all together precariously, using every square centimeter of the one paper towel you have in your arsenal before picking up all three bowls—two of them nestled in your left arm, one of them held in your right hand.

The door to the bedroom is closed shut—your arms are full, and you spend a few moments fussing about how to get in without having to go back into the kitchen and set down the food, but you hear Tantu and Joost’s muffled voices through the door.

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have skipped ahead—“

“You should've never played it, Tantu!”

“Well, you shouldn’t have kept it on your desktop for anyone to see! With my name on it!”

You tilt your head in confusion, and then knock on the door with your foot; in an instant, Tantu opens it for you, and you hear, loud and clear: “I wanna fuck it in you ‘til it takes, I w—” before Joost slams the laptop shut and says, “Baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I—”

2 fics in a few weeks!! lfg!!! i hope you enjoyed!! <3 thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) they keep me writing!! askbox anon on hereeee - juno

#joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost smut #joost x you #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfiction #joost fanfic #joost klein x you #juno's fics #juno’s writing #juno’s smut #normal au

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