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sugrhigh · 8 months ago

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BOY NEXT DOOR 5 - ( c.s )

part four

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, kinda fluffy in the beginning, smutty smut at the end (YEP U READ THAT RIGHT FOLKS)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: HIIII i apologize for the wait!!! part five is here and boy is she something, she’s long asf and i hope you love <3 if i forgot to tag you i am so so sorry, leave me a comment and i’ll absolutely fix it! my inbox is open for u guys always

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @55sturn @mattinside @sturnioloco @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @stonermattsgf @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @reallykaz @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts

trying to push chris away, especially after the party, might possibly be the hardest task you’ve ever faced. he’s relentless in trying to get your attention, and the bruise he left on your neck is a fading reminder of your prior weakness.

he’s been teasing you endlessly for the past four days; working out in front of his window with the music blaring, making sure he’s always shirtless, texting you at least once a day just to flirt.

and it’s slowly chipping away at your self-defense, as pathetic as it makes you feel. you don’t want to give in to your stupid fucking temptations, but it’s so hard not to.

not to mention cassidy and ramona have been prying about him every few hours, trying to see how this is all going to play out. you wish you knew, but you don't.

you’re straddling the fence of hatred and lust now, still unsure where you stand.

your internal struggle to forget about him has haunted you, and it weighs on your shoulders now as you sit criss-cross in bed, trying to focus on starting your essay.

your phone vibrates, facedown beside you, and you presume that it’s the very person you’re trying to ignore.

you’re correct, of course.

chris

let me take you out

you haven’t been responding to him, but this text catches you by surprise, just enough to type out an actual answer.

y/n

you go to set the device back down when it pings again in your hand. you flip it in your palm, letting the screen light up.

chris

ok then let me eat you out

your stomach flips, and you instinctively glance out your window to your left. chris is grinning at you from ear to ear, freshly showered and (of course) shirtless after practice. he’s also sitting in bed, legs hanging off the side as his gray sweats bunch up around his waist.

y/n

no.

you’re a creep

chris

you love it when i talk to you like that

you look back up from your messages to flip him off. he tilts his head back, and you imagine hearing his loud laughter as if you were right there with him.

y/n

you think walking around without a shirt on is winning me over?

chris

maybe a little?

y/n

think again pretty boy

he pouts just a bit before standing up, waving a hand to indicate you should meet him at the window. you listen, wedging the pane upwards so the chilly january air hits you right in the face.

the sun has set now, so chris is backlit by the light of his room as he stares at you, placing his palms on the windowsill so he can casually lean out into the night.

“what do you want?” you spit, wrapping your arms around yourself to fight the cold.

“i can’t talk to my favorite girl?” he smirks, breath fogging up slightly in front of him.

you don’t know why he won’t put on a fucking shirt, even in the freezing atmosphere. his body certainly isn’t bad to look at, but you’re too stubborn to ever say it, especially when he’s so smug.

“no, you can’t. what do you want?” you twirl your finger, as if to tell him to get on with it.

“i want to hang out.” chris reiterates in a serious tone.

you roll your eyes before you can think twice about it, because it still sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth. “yeah, right.”

“i mean it. no funny business. unless you want that, of course.” he says, still toying with you even when he’s supposedly being genuine.

you shake your head, blowing out a long breath of exasperation. but the curiosity takes over, and you have to admit you’re a little intrigued.

“what could you possibly have in mind?”

thirty minutes later you’re back inside the hockey arena, a pair of skates dangling in one hand as you follow chris down the walkway toward the player bench.

it’s quiet, since it’s the beginning of the week and nobody is allowed on the college team’s ice aside from players. he had even chatted up one of the employees, which just helped secure you your time to goof off alone.

you had no idea that this was where he was taking you, because he insisted on it being a surprise and made you keep your eyes closed for the entire drive, but the revelation ended up being far more pleasant than you expected.

you actually used to love going ice skating as a kid, probably because you adored watching hockey and figuring skating so much. it’s been a while, and you know you’ll look terrible next to chris, but you don’t really mind.

he leads the way and sits down, jamming his feet into his hockey skates. then he uses his newly freed hand to wave you over, which makes you realize that you’ve been standing around like an NPC.

“come on, don’t be shy. i’ll lace you up.”

it’s not really an offer, because the second you plop down beside him he’s on one knee, taking the skates out of your hands gently. he doesn’t even give you time to yell at him for the dumb nickname.

“i can do it myself, you know.” you protest as he slides one of your sneakers off, replacing it and guiding your foot into one of the skates.

“that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly now would it?” he looks up at you through his fluffy brown hair, a silly grin playing on his lips.

“oh, i wasn’t aware i was in the presence of a gentleman.” you tease, looking around like you’re searching for whoever he’s talking about.

chris just repeats his actions with your other foot, careful to move you softly as he slips the other skate on. “i wouldn’t talk shit before we get on the ice, you know.”

“please, i’ll skate circles around you.”

it’s an empty threat and he knows it, because he chuckles as he ties his own laces fluidly before using your knees to push himself off the ground.

“then how about you get out there and show me?” chris challenges, extending his hand to you.

“let’s do it.” you take it without thinking, and you hate that it was just a natural reaction.

you hate wanting to hold it, and the fact that you don’t feel disgusted.

chris pulls you up and waits until you’re fully steady before he starts tugging you along in excitement.

he lets go once he opens the small door to the ice, skating out to the middle and doing a little spin around the BU emblem just to show off. but it’s actually endearing to see him so in his element, so passionate about something.

“care to join?” he invites, and you suck in a breath before stepping out onto the ice.

you’re a little wobbly at first, awkwardly skating along and trying to make sure your knees don’t buckle before you even get to him. you’re also approaching with a bit too much momentum, and you fumble against his hard chest.

but chris just wraps his arms around you without comment, ensuring that you don’t fall flat on your ass.

he likes having you this close to him, even in a non-sexual way. sure, he’s insanely attracted to you, but he’s also found that he just likes your company, as sappy and scary as that is to him.

“oops.” you mumble into his sweatshirt, which has the familiar smell of his cologne on it, before you unravel yourself from his arms.

“you look like a baby deer trying to walk.” chris jokes with a wide smile, letting his fingers slip from your body so you can actually move around.

“shut up.” you sock his chest lightly with your fist.

he chuckles, holding a hand to the spot you hit as if you really hurt him. “hey, i’m just calling it like is it.”

“and i’m just warming up.” you argue, using one foot to propel yourself toward one end of the rink.

the more you skate around, the more confidence you gain in your ability, and the more comfortable you feel on your feet. chris follows you closely, moving with such rhythm that it almost looks like he’s floating.

“sure you are.” he drags out the ‘e’ for emphasis, doing a few little laps around you as you continue getting used to it.

“well you’re certainly not helping, you ass.” you grumble, staring down at your feet in focus.

and then you feel yourself trip up slightly, and your arms immediately fly out as you attempt to steady yourself. but you’re flailing, and chris can see the panic cross your face.

but before you tumble, he skates up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist so you can lean your weight back. his body stops you from toppling, and your heart slams hard and fast in your chest from the fright.

“careful, baby.” he says into your hair.

it sends little chills running up and down your spine, and you’re too nervous to tilt your head to look at him. you know how close his face would be if you did.

chris isn’t even sure himself why he said that, how he let the entirely new pet name slip, because he doesn’t use it with anyone. not with his brief past “girlfriends” or flings, not even with you. but now he is, and it rolled off of his tongue so easily that he feels sick.

“that’s a new one.” you practically pant, short of breath from both the near-fall and his words.

a volcano of butterflies is erupting in your stomach, and you know that’s not from the previous scare. it’s fully because of him.

fuck.

“wanna try a spin?” he deflects masterfully, and this spurs you out of your slight stupor enough to straighten up and glide away from him.

“fine, but you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“no promises.”

for the rest of the time spent at the rink, chris tries to keep his usual unserious demeanor going, but something has shifted, despite how minuscule the comment was. you’re both unknowingly still thinking about it on the car ride home, each wondering how the other feels.

even the goodbye is strange. he pulls you in for a quick side hug before darting back to his house, leaving you standing all alone in his driveway wondering what changed.

you sigh and turn to head back up your own front steps, slipping inside as quietly as possible even though you know cass and mona are busy in their rooms studying for upcoming exams.

it’s just you and your thoughts as you climb the stairs to your room, gnawing on your bottom lip.

you wouldn’t have been so freaked out by the pet name if he hadn’t frozen up himself, but his reaction makes you wonder if he ever meant to use it in the first place.

and even if he didn’t, why did it seem like such a big deal? its not like he hasn’t used stupid nicknames with you before.

questions fill your brain as you shuffle into your bathroom, throwing the shower on and stripping before stepping into the warm water. the pressure feels good on your shoulders, and you try and rub out some of the tension in them.

chris has just been surprise after surprise recently. you’re seeing a different side to him, one that’s seemingly emotionally invested in you, and you don’t want to let yourself believe it.

believing in someone means you can actually get hurt.

you try and relax into the steam as you rinse your hair out and shave, though it only helps a little bit. by the time you turn the faucet off and step out, you’re still just as confused.

you wrap yourself in your plush towel, tucking it so it stays as up you pad back into your room.

a song that’s been stuck in your head all day falls softly from your lips as you pick through your dresser, grabbing a pair of underwear and sliding them on, letting the towel fall the the floor.

your back is to the window as you continue scanning the drawers for one particular shirt, which is apparently elusive tonight. you’re still unsuccessful even after rummaging through every drawer, and you’re just bending down to check your hamper when your phone buzzes against the wooden cabinet.

it makes you flinch, one hand flying to your bare chest as the other reaches for the device.

chris

give me permission to come over.

now.

your eyes dart to the window as you lunge to grab your towel off of the floor. you could have sworn you closed the curtains before getting into the shower, but when you look up you’re staring right at chris.

his eyes are dark as he watches you run over to the glass, towel barely covering you as you yank them closed. your heart is hammering in your chest, and you can feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat.

y/n

you were NOT supposed to see that

chris

well i did

let me come over

i’m fucking serious.

y/n

my roommates are home

and that was an accident

you scramble around and throw on the first sweatshirt you can find. you don’t care what you have on anymore, as long as it’s something.

chris

then come here

y/n

no it’s already late

chris

you have no idea what you just fucking did to me

if you don’t come over i’m coming there

it’s your choice.

the string of curses that escapes your mouth are anything but kind. you have no idea what to do or how to get him off this rampage, and you despise the way your stomach is flipping from his texts.

y/n

chris.

chris

pick or i will

y/n

fucking hell

i’m coming over

you quickly pull on a pair of joggers and jam your feet into your slippers, wringing your hair out one more time. you know if you don’t hurry, chris will take it upon himself to come over here, and that’s the last thing you want right now.

your insides twist as you make your way down to the main level, out the front door and across the lawn. the inside of your cheek is irritated from the way you’re biting down on it every other second.

it’s ominously quiet tonight, and even though it’s the middle of winter, your body is on fire as if it’s a hundred degrees.

at this point, you’re not throwing caution to the wind anymore; you’re burying it in a grave.

your knuckles rap against his front door moments later. it only takes seconds for it to open, and chris tugs you inside instantly, slamming it closed behind you afterwards.

it’s not long before he has you backed against the foyer wall, his hands on either of your hips like he’s holding you there. his mouth captures yours roughly without warning, tongue gliding against your bottom lip.

there’s nothing slow or sweet about it; he’s desperate to feel every single inch of you.

chris had been mulling over his slip up in his room since you guys got home from the arena, nearly pulling his hair out just wondering what the hell his problem is.

and then he just happened to look over at your window, like he always does when he’s thinking about you, only to find you moving around in nothing but that tiny black thong.

seeing all of you exposed was like every wet dream he’s every had, and it nearly sent him over the edge right there. he needs you, in every single possible way, and there’s no use denying it anymore.

he’s practically devouring you, and you’re letting him because his lips are just so damn soft. you’re tired too, so tired of fighting your instincts, tired of fighting him.

he moves to your jawline, then to the base of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he goes. it’s impossible to contain the light moan that escapes your mouth. chris wants to hear it over and over and over.

“nobody’s home tonight.” he mutters against your throat.

his voice is deep, muffled slightly against your body, and the vibrations combined with the feeling of the scruff of his beard makes you throb. he’s pressed against your thigh, also very clearly straining for more.

“upstairs?”

chris pulls away, a smirk playing on his lips. even in the dim lighting, you can see he’s extremely satisfied by your response.

his hand slips into yours for the second time today, pulling you toward his room impatiently. you know which door it is before he leads you through it, but its still the first time you’re seeing it from a view that’s not your window.

you recognize all of the posters, ranging from hockey stars to movies to rappers, his plush dark comforter, the gym equipment he has pushed in the corner. it’s weird, because you told yourself you’d never end up here.

before you can think more, chris pulls you to him by the waist once again, walking you backwards until your legs hit the bedframe. your knees buckle and a small gasp escapes as you fall back against the mattress.

he leans down to kiss you again swiftly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting just hard enough. your fingers tangle in his soft hair so you can tug his roots.

he groans at the force, disconnecting from your lips slightly, and you see it as your opportunity.

“if we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way.” you whisper against his mouth, trailing your hand down his body and wrapping it in his shirt so you can pull him into bed next to you.

before he can protest, you roll over to straddle him, thighs on either side of his hips. his eyes are wide in anticipation, clearly surprised by you taking charge.

“whatever you want, princess.” chris gives in, licking his lips as his hands grip the flesh of your legs like his life depends on.

“god, you’ve never sounded sexier.” you tease before you crash your mouth against his once more.

a few seconds later you switch your focus to his neck, deciding that you selfishly want to leave some hickies of your own. you suck on his skin, and a groan escapes his lips.

it spurs you on, so you rock your hips against his, grinding against his obvious hard on. his hands slide to grip your ass, giving one side a light slap as you shift against each other.

you grin against his lips, knowing that he’s becoming more and more desperate, trying to force you to move faster. but you still your hips, grinding at a tantalizingly slow pace.

chris moves one hand so his fingers can nimbly trace the bottom of your sweatshirt, pushing it up your body so he can tear it over your head. he releases a long breath as he stares at your full tits, happy that you didn’t end up finding a bra before coming over.

“fuck, i can’t do this anymore.”

he shifts, bucking his hips slightly so he can toss you off of him and crawl on top of you, trapping you between his arms.

“so impatient.” you joke, staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes he loves so much.

“been waiting way too long for you.” he breathes, hooking his thumbs underneath your pants.

you lift your hips up so he can tug them off your waist, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to his floor. his eyes wander across your body, finally able to completely take you in now that you’re right beneath him.

it makes you feel powerful, seeing the very obvious lust in his eyes as he stares at you.

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?” chris asks, his fingers dancing across your neck so he can brush your damp hair aside.

the caress is gentle, and yet the weight of his words still makes you involuntarily clench your legs together. but he’s quick to push them back apart with his knee, forcing you to open up for him.

“don’t you dare hide now, i need to see all of you.”

he bows down between your legs so he can leave soft pecks along your collarbone, one hand groping your bare chest. you feel him creeping lower, mouth tracing down the valley of your breasts before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth.

you gasp in pleasure, and your hands tangle in his hair once more as your back arches off of the bed in need.

“oh my god, chris.” you whine, and he loves you gripping his curls.

he twitches against the inside of your thigh as his tongue flicks back and forth, so turned on by all the little noises you’re making. then he drags his wet lips over to your other hardened bud, ensuring he doesn’t neglect any part of you.

you squirm against his sheets, and the pressure of desire is quickly building in the pit of your stomach.

“feel good, baby?” he asks, confidently throwing the pet name out now.

chris doesn’t give a shit. as far as he’s concerned, you’re in his bed, and right now you’re his girl, so he’s going to call you whatever feels best in the moment. your head is so fuzzy with pleasure you don’t even pick up on it.

“so fucking good.” you encourage him desperately as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

the further he goes, the more your gut twists itself into knots. it’s been a while since anyone has touched you like this, kissed you like this, and it’s got you needy as all hell.

finally, his mouth meets your hip bone, and another breathy moan passes your lips like a reflex.

he’s on his knees now, using both of his hands to pry your shaky legs apart, making sure he has full access to the place you need him most. his hot breath hits the wetness of your panties, and goosebumps rise on your skin.

“so desperate for me already, huh?” chris goads, applying two fingers to your clothed heat.

the pressure from his little circular motions makes you buck your hips, and he uses his free hand to try and still your movements. he’s spent far too many hours fantasizing about this moment to rush it. hes going to take his time with you.

“no, use your words, angel. tell me what you need or i’ll stop.”

it’s a demand, though he slides the black material to the side before you can even reply, just so there’s no longer a barrier between your heat and his touch. you’re dripping, and he swirls his fingers a bit harder, trying to get you to speak.

“more, chris, please.” you finally manage to beg, even though it drives you nuts being at his disposal.

“good girl, was that so hard?” chris hums, fully entranced by the pleasure that’s so apparent on your face.

one of his fingers teases your core for a few seconds before he fully slips it inside, pumping it in and out slowly. then he adds another and you’re practically writhing, unable to control your reactions any longer.

“shit.” you hiss, hands leaving his hair to grip his comforter, searching for any kind of relief.

chris curls his fingers every time he plunges them back inside of you, enjoying the way you tense every time. that being said, you’re both becoming more and more urgent, too desperate to continue the torment.

“need to feel you wrapped around me.” he grumbles, slowing his movements to a stop so he can yank his shirt over his head by the collar.

you’re pulsing from the loss of contact, already breathing heavy as you watch him slip out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. his dick springs free, and your mouth goes dry at the revelation.

he’s big, thick enough that you know you’re going to have to adjust. chris pumps himself in his hand a few times before running his shaft up and down your core, using your wetness as lube.

the feeling of his length sliding across your clit is almost unbearable, and by the way he’s panting you can tell he likes it just as much.

“no more teasing, i can’t.” you plead.

that’s enough to convince chris that he’s had his fun, so he fumbles with the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a condom and tearing open the packet with his teeth.

he rolls the silicone over his dick before standing to line himself up at your entrance, taking a second to look down at you. your eyes are wide and your lips are puffy, and you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

then he pushes himself inside, extra careful to take it slow at first. you both mumble curses under your breath, because the way he’s stretching you out is amazing and the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his sensitive cock is euphoric.

chris lets you adjust to his size for a minute before he begins to rock his hips back and forth, driving himself into you as he builds momentum. you clench around him with every stroke, and it’s making him feel fucking insane.

“taking me so well, baby, so fucking well.” he praises gruffly.

you reach up, tugging his chain lightly to indicate that you want him closer. chris leans down so his body is flush against yours as he shifts in and out, your fingers raking his back.

he presses a hard kiss to your mouth, one hand squeezing around your throat lightly. he prays to god he’s scratched up by the end of this, because he needs a physical reminder that this is real, that he’s not dreaming.

“harder, chris.” you whimper against him, wrapping your legs around his waist so you can force him to plunge deeper inside of you.

the switch in angle also means he’s hitting a brand new spot, and you feel your stomach tighten at the sensation. your eyes screw shut as you let out a lewd moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

chris is using all of his strength to slam into you now, growing closer and closer to his high. he won’t be able to hang on much longer, especially when you’re beneath him with your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted like you’re begging for more.

“i love the way you look when i'm inside you, holy shit.” he’s practically breathless as he says it, his skin slapping against yours.

his name falls repeatedly from your lips like a prayer, because it’s the only word you can even think of at this point. your foreheads are pressed together, and he slides his hand down so he can brush his fingers against your clit.

it’s so much stimulation that tears begin to prick your eyes, something that’s never happened to you before. nobody’s ever made you feel this good.

“fuck!—m’so close, don’t stop.” you cry out, and your whole body is convulsing now.

you feel chris twitch inside of you, an indication that he’s on the exact same path. he moves his fingers against you faster, though his strokes grow sloppier and more desperate by the second.

“come on, princess. let it all go.”

and for once in your life you listen to him without any push back, releasing all over his dick as he simultaneously finishes into the condom.

chris slows his movements to a stop, overstimulated and fucked out as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. he presses a few wet kisses to your skin as you regain your breath, enjoying the last few seconds of closeness before he pulls out.

he flops down beside you, both of you lying on your backs and staring up at the ceiling, chests heaving as you calm down. everything has changed in just the last four hours, and neither of you are quite sure what to say.

so you don’t say anything at all. he just discards the rubber and wraps you up in his sheets with a loopy smile, pulling you so your back is against his chest.

you can feel him breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body, and you decide that logical thinking will have to wait until tomorrow. tonight, you’ll stay in his arms.

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey!au #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #series

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savventeen · 1 year ago

Text

this sad ending needs a chaser

pairing: past mingyu x gn!reader (exes) rating: 16+ (short suggestive part but nothing explicit) wc: 1.5k summary: you and mingyu broke up. mingyu's having a hard time moving on. warnings: breakup, post-breakup, alcohol, drinking, implied unhealthy coping mechanisms tags: angst, lovers to exes, sad ending, it's implied that mingyu fucked up somehow but doesn't explain the how/why so that's up to your interpretation a/n: have some angst that i queued up for y'all while i'm away, hope you enjoy :') also mingyu i love u so much i promise lkdfjslkdj (this was originally a jikook work on ao3)

The first time Mingyu sees you after — after — a part of him thinks it might be a dream.

As always, your eyes are the first thing to catch his attention. Big and bright and reflecting every drop of light the bar contains, Mingyu has to force himself not to fall into twin galaxies.

That's not something he's allowed to do anymore.

And so before he can do anything stupid like go up to you and confess exactly how desperately he misses you, Mingyu downs the rest of his drink and shoulders his way out of the door and into the cold night air.

He hopes that putting some distance between the two of you and breathing in the sobering Seoul air will calm his aching heart, but he ends up stumbling down memory lane regardless.

You trail petal-soft kisses across Mingyu's shoulders, making constellations out of his freckles and trying to capture every inch of skin you can between your lips. You don't stop, even as he half-heartedly squirms, giggling. "Jagiya, stop," he whines, and your heart flips inside your chest as it's overwhelmed by a wave of fondness. "That tickles." "Hmm," you hum into the back of his neck. You grin before murmuring, "as you wish," letting go of him and throwing yourself back so that you're lying alone in the middle of the bed. You've barely settled before Mingyu is suddenly crawling over you. "Wait, no, come back; I was kidding." You put on a pretty pout even as Mingyu boxes you in with his body, knees bracketing your hips and forearms bracing him on either side of your head. He leans down for a kiss, but you turn your head so that his lips land on your cheek instead. "Jagiii," he whines, long and loud, and you can't help the laughter that spills out of you. He noses along your jaw, trailing open-mouthed kisses as he goes and lighting a fire deep in your core. "Aegiya, come on." "Come on, what, hmm?" You ask with a smirk, eyes lidded and hands slowly dragging up Mingyu's sides, moving in to trail up his bare chest and rest there. Mingyu half whines, half growls into your neck, and you can feel the way the sheets pull beneath you as he clenches his fingers into the fabric. He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes and demands, "Kiss me, damn it." And who are you to refuse? Your hands move to hold Mingyu's face, pulling him down to press all the want onto his lips, mouth, tongue. "Whatever you want, baby," you breathe, heavy with the liquid fire that's starting to pulse through your veins along with something else, something soft and fragile and adoring. "Whatever you want."

Mingyu trips over a crack in the pavement and curses, moving to lean against the wall of whatever building he was passing. He stays there for a minute, willing the tears away and swallowing down his feelings and building nausea. Once his mind is carefully, wonderfully blank, he starts walking again — alone in a city of millions.

And isn't that the way it's supposed to be?

The second time Mingyu sees you — in the same crowded bar, of all places — he lets himself look.

Lets himself take in the sight that is you dressed in sinfully tight clothing and soaking up the colored lights like you're trying to outshine them all. And you do outshine them — have always been the brightest thing in Mingyu's life. Even now, after he's gone and fucked everything up.

(Just as he always has. And probably always will.)

You are a shining star, something belonging to the heavens, and Mingyu is still a cold and lonely thing that can't help but be caught in your orbit — longing for just an ounce of light, of warmth.

But he doesn't get to ask anymore, not after what he did, and that makes it all the more painful when he watches you get dragged to the dance floor with a blinding grin.

He turns back to the bar, ordering two more shots and downing them in quick succession — doesn't spare a single glance behind him as he pushes himself through the crowd and out the front doors.

The third time Mingyu sees you, he admits to himself that this isn't a coincidence — admits that he remembers this place being your favorite bar and that he hasn't been coming here just for the alcohol.

Idly, he wonders if he's always been a masochist, but a small part of him whispers that no, he hasn't. He hadn't ever cared enough, before.

(Had never been in love before, not really. Not like this.)

Once upon a time, Mingyu had been close enough to you to know that you aren't going to be looking for a relationship any time soon. You're the hopeless romantic, Big Feelings sort of wonderful, the type of person that will tumble head-over-heels into an all-or-nothing kind of love — the kind of love that makes people believe in miracles.

(You should've been more careful with him — shouldn't have given your heart so freely to someone who only knows how to break anything that's put in his hands.)

This knowledge makes watching you dance with stranger after stranger a particular kind of torture, something confusing and dark and ugly swirling around in his chest and stomach. And yet, despite the rabid swell of feelings within him, Mingyu can't help but feel like he's caught in a dream. You've always had that effect on him, and he wishes with every fiber of his being that he could go back in time and stop himself from turning that dream into a nightmare.

But he can't — has never been one for wishes or faith or believing in anything other than the fact that he never let himself learn how to hold onto a good thing.

But maybe... maybe this time can be different.

Mingyu swirls the drink in his hand, idly watching the ice cubes do a clumsy dance around each other in the glass. He doesn't expect a miracle to happen by any means, isn't even going to try to hope for another chance (at least, not consciously), but. Maybe he can pick up a few of the pieces he left behind.

Maybe he can hold this good thing one more time.

The next time Mingyu sees you, determination sits in a tight, anxious knot in his throat.

He's decided that tonight is the night, the one where he dawns his confidence like the flimsy armor that it is and tries to say a single word to you for the first time in months. Because even above all the physical intimacy and affection, Mingyu finds that just talking with you is what he misses the most — phone calls and facetimes and dumb little text messages... he misses it with such a vicious ache that sometimes he swears he's bleeding out all over the floor.

And so he downs one more shot of liquid courage and starts to make his way across the dance floor to where you sit alone at a table on the other side of the venue.

He makes it about halfway through all the thrusting bodies, getting momentarily stuck behind a gaggle of girls here for some kind of bachelorette party before he once again catches sight of you. And abruptly freezes.

You're still sitting at the table, but you're no longer alone. Someone else is there, a beautiful boy who is looking at you with a sun-bright smile, and then he's leaning forward and kissing you and—

Mingyu watches, heart sinking sinking sinking as you lean into the kiss, bringing a hand up to hold the stranger's face at just the right angle before pulling away with a wet pop that he can't hear over the music but that he can feel like a bullet to the heart.

Everyone around him is sweating, radiating heat, but Mingyu feels cold.

Someone bumps into him, says something, but he barely notices. He's stuck, feet and heart caught in some kind of freezing sludge, eyes unwittingly fixed on the way you're smiling so bashfully at this stranger — this stranger who, he realizes belatedly, isn't that much of a stranger. He's seen this man with the shock of blonde hair before, has watched him dance with you the last few times he's been here.

Something within Mingyu shatters at that, something he didn't realize could break.

Maybe he'd been hoping for a miracle after all.

He sees the stranger nod his head toward the dance floor, and Mingyu is running before he can even think — out the door, and down the street, and on and on and on until his lungs feel like they're about to combust inside his chest.

He runs, and Mingyu has a feeling that he'll never stop running. It's all he's ever known.

It's all he's ever known, and all he'll ever be is a boy who runs away from his dreams because that will always be easier than watching them be taken away from right in front of him.

And so, Mingyu runs.

It's all he's ever known.

#svtsource #mingyu angst #mingyu au #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #savv writes #savv fics #in my queue world

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thru-the-grapevine · 2 years ago

Text

Irish Breakfast

Pairing: Kim Geonhak x reader

Summary: The man you have no business pining over makes an unexpected reappearance in your life, albeit in less-than-ideal condition.

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: mafia au, blood/injuries (<- despite the tags the whole thing is still soft)

Author Notes: another submission for the Oneus Trope Bingo hosted by @oneusficevents ! This is for my “mafia au” square. I’ve never written anything like this before so I’m nervous to post, but I hope it’s enjoyable

Annoying, you think, that an entire beverage is going to remind you of a man you can’t have. Especially a beverage as widely versatile as tea.

You turn off the timer and go back into the kitchen, taking the teabag out of your mug. You’ve been branching out to new teas since the first evening you’d tried it in the safehouse, sampling them little by little. You now own a small village’s worth of tea boxes, after watching in horror as your best friend swiped her arm along the shelf of teas at the store and into your cart, insisting it was her treat. You’ve found you don’t care for straight green tea or matcha (green bean water, more like), but you like jasmine just fine, peppermint too. English Breakfast is okay, just not as malty, and chai is good if you add more cream than usual.

Tonight, though, you’re allowing yourself to Admit and Mope Over having feelings for a made man. Which, naturally, means your tea is his favorite, Irish Breakfast. You set the teabag in your spoon and wrap the string around it, wringing extra tea into the mug. You’ve gotten rather good at it with practice.

You turn to throw out the teabag when you hear a muted thump from somewhere in your apartment.

You stare, unmoving, at the teabag dangling in your hand over the garbage bin. It swings gently back and forth, and you try a deep breath. One, two, three four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

By the end of the deep breath, no more noises have come. You drop the teabag in the bin and turn back to your mug, only partly aware of reaching for the sugar. Pal, chill out. Someone came home across the hall and dropped their groceries. The box of Christmas decorations finally teetered off the shelf in the closet. Kids down below jumped too high on their bed and whacked into the ceiling.

Your phone vibrates sharply against the counter, and you drop your spoon with a clatter. You crane your head aside to glance at the screen.

LEEDO: u can say no but do u mind if I stop by?

You snatch your phone clumsily and fumble to the app with live feeds of your security camera. A raven-haired man in office slacks and dress shirt is leaning heavily against your front door. As you watch, his knees buckle under him, and you hear another thump as he crumples against your doorframe.

“Shit,” you hiss. You drop your phone on the counter and hurry to the front door.

Geonhak catches himself heavily on the doorjamb as you ease the door open, a final defense against collapsing entirely.

“Hi,” he murmurs, sounding for all the world like he’s fine and not a man who can’t stay upright.

You drop to your knees, trying to figure out where it’s safe to touch him. His entire left side, from head to toe, looks to be spattered in blood.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, guiding his right arm over your shoulders. You brace your hand against his back, heaving upward.

You manage to stay balanced, most of his weight on you, and stumble back inside. You’re careful to keep your hand at the center of his back, away from the side that’s drenched in red.

He sags back against the door as you shut it again, relieving you of crutch duty. Flipping on the front hall light, you try to get a better look at him. His side is littered with bloody hand- and fingerprints—probably from staunching the blood flow, you take a guess. There’s so much blood, it looks like so much. The blood on his face has trickled down from a matted spot in his hair.

“What can I do?” You ask, surprised at how calm you sound. “What do you need?”

A corner of his mouth quirks slightly. “Just towels.”

His voice is cottony, so un-Geonhak-like. A sliver of ice sinks into the pit of your stomach.

“Just….” You take a tentative step back from him to see if he’ll stay upright. He leans more heavily against your front door, and your hands hover there in front of him. “Just….don’t move.”

You fly into the kitchen, feet barely touching the ground, and yank open the drawer of tea towels. You grab the entire stack and flip on the sink, running a few under cool water. Your eyes catch on your mug on the counter, and after a second you grab it and bring it all with you.

Geonhak’s face is tilted towards the ceiling when you return, eyes closed. A thin line of blood is slowly trickling down the side of his neck. In the light of the entryway, positioned as he is, he looks like a hero straight out of a classical painting. Lordy. No man has any business looking this good bleeding out.

You set the mug gently on the hall table next to him and close the distance with the towels.

His head drops back down, eyes opening at your approach, and you offer him a wet towel. He murmurs his thanks, taking it and mopping his neck and face roughly while you unfold a dry one.

You rake your gaze over him carefully, heart pounding. His hair has grown out a bit since you saw him last. You note in the part of your mind that isn’t panicking that it suits him, although everything suits Geonhak. Gingerly, you scrape your fingertips along his hairline, combing his hair off his face and checking for more injuries. His jaw works and his throat bobs once, and you replace his thoroughly bloodied hand towel with another damp one.

“‘Woong’s in Chinatown tonight, won’t be able to get here for a half hour,” Geonhak says as he works, and you realize he’s apologizing. “He’ll take me to the safehouse and out of your h—”

“Like hell he will,” you say, swapping him for another fresh towel. “Finish mopping up and we’ll take my car.”

“Hwanwoong will come get me,” Geonhak mumbles, eyes closing as he prods at the spot on his head.

“And I said like hell,” you reply, your free hand going to the buttons on his shirt. “This needs to…move…so you can get to the spot on—oh, don’t look at me like that, you’re bleeding.”

“Interesting way to ask me to take my shirt off,” he murmurs with a shrug, smile as dangerous to your pulse as ever as his free hand starts unbuttoning.

Once he’s undone the first four, you shove another damp towel inside and grip at the injured place on his side firmly, making him hiss. Serve him right, flirting while bleeding out on my doorstep.

“Hold this there, tightly. Be right back,” you say, taking another bloody towel from him and scooping up the others.

You pause for a second, then gesture at the mug of tea. “For you.”

Within moments, you’ve thrown the bloodied towels in the drum of the washer to deal with later and grabbed several other things on the way back.

Geonhak’s finishing a long sip of Irish Breakfast when you return. Wordlessly, you hand him a few ibuprofen. A smile plays at his lips as he accepts them and downs them with tea.

“Off,” you say as he sets the mug down, waving vaguely at his blood-sodden shirt. “I’ve got something clean.”

“It’ll just get dirty, too,” he says, already undoing the final few buttons and shrugging it away.

Any other time you would admire him shirtless, but your focus now lasers in on the injury. After all the blood he was wearing, it’s surprisingly smaller than you feared. “I don’t care if it gets dirty, too. I have my first aid kit—”

“Just—” he winces when he presses against his side wound too hard, then sighs softly, “just…if you’ll drive me to a safehouse, I’ll get Keonhee to patch me up.”

Ah yes. Keonhee. A trained medical professional. Someone of actual use to him. “Let me get my shoes.”

You watch from the corner of your eye as he takes the oversized hoodie you offer him and finagles it on gingerly. You’ve grown so accustomed to Geonhak in office attire that anything else looks unfamiliar on him. You’re right, though; anything suits him. Your heart doesn’t seem to notice the oddness, twisting at the knowledge that the hoodie is yours.

Your staring doesn’t escape Geonhak’s notice.

“Don’t usually wear this kind of thing,” he says as you exit the apartment together. He leans into you for security as you lock your door.

“And why not?” You ask, heading for the stairs at a stilted pace.

Your face bumps into his neck as he stumbles, and he swears and apologizes under his breath. Despite the clear excitement he’s had tonight, you notice he still smells like the pine and eucalyptus soap you’d seen in the safehouse shower. You immediately try to ignore this.

He shakes his head as you both begin slowly down the stairwell. “Not taken seriously in street clothes. Look too young.”

You can feel him wincing with each descending step, and you slow your pace, keep the hand at his back soothing.

“Well, who wouldn’t take you seriously right now?” You ask as you reach the exit. You pause to heave your free shoulder against the door when it sticks. “Now? When you’re bleeding a concerning amount?”

“I’ve had worse,” Geonhak says mildly, misstepping and staggering against you as you exit into the night. You catch him, free hand landing against the front of his torso, and you mumble an apology as he winces and straightens again.

“Surprised you survived with these reflexes,” you mutter, hobbling with him through the parking lot in the warm summer night air.

You lay a towel along the back of the passenger seat before Geonhak sits; blood sounds horrible to get out of a car. He wordlessly plugs an address into your GPS once you start the car, and then you’re on the road.

The car is quiet as you follow the first few directions, save for the occasional GPS voice. Geonhak extracts his phone from his back pocket, wincing all the while. He taps away at the screen, likely notifying the safehouse and Keonhee, as you follow the directions onto a street that sounds vaguely familiar.

“Should I, um. Worry about being followed?” You ask, glancing at the passing headlights in your rear view mirror.

“Mm-mm,” Geonhak says, shaking his head slightly and pocketing the phone again. “Our guys got him.”

You refuse to consider what “got him” means in this context.

“I’m sure it’s pointless to ask, but what happened?”

Geonhak sighs, leaning back in his seat with a wince. The silence carries for a few minutes, and you begin to assume he won’t answer when he finally speaks.

“He didn’t like what happened at your shop this week.”

You stiffen as you stop for a red light. A blue-eyed smirk you’ve come to hate flickers to mind. The man who was the reason you’d met Geonhak in the first place; the man who was the reason you’d had to hide for a week in a safehouse meant for organized crime members. “Him?”

Geonhak leans his head back against the headrest, eyes shutting as he adjusts the towel against his head. He gives no indication to confirm or deny.

That isn’t allowed to be the end of it. “But nothing really even happened. He just…came in, to intimidate me again. And then he got spooked by your uncle and left.”

A corner of Geonhak’s mouth curls. “Technically, he was humiliated by a crime boss over muffins. To a lot of these guys, that’s something.”

Over muffins. The space in your chest for breathing begins to shrink. It was your fault. That man, the one who’d tried to convince you to let his boss run dirty money through your store, who kept showing up at your new storefront to intimidate you, had hurt Geonhak. He’d been so mortified by Geonhak’s uncle, who was there to defend you, that he’d taken it out on the man’s nephew for good measure. Not on you, who actually owned the store; him. Geonhak was hurt because of you.

“Breathe,” Geonhak says, voice firm.

You gasp in a breath and blow it out shakily, easing on the gas as the light turns green.

“Slower than that. There’s enough air,” Geonhak soothes.

You shake your head, each breath coming heavier and quicker. I did this to him.

He starts counting, and you take a deep breath and hold it like he taught you, blowing it out unsteadily. It does little to settle your jittery pulse, your whirling thoughts.

“Promise it’ll be over soon,” he says, glancing at the GPS. “In six minutes. Just drop me off at the front door and—”

“I—you’re kidding, I’m not just, just—leaving you somewhere,” you protest, grip tightening on the wheel. “You’re covered in…Geonhak, I did this to y—”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

His voice is so suddenly sharp that your mouth snaps shut without another thought. His mouth is set in an even line, blue flame behind his eyes as he stares out at the road.

“You are good, and you are innocent, and you did not do this to me,” he says, voice dangerously even. “I won’t have you taking blame for that shithead. I won’t.”

You swallow, trying another slow breath in, out. You nod.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

He blinks, still watching the road, but the hardness in his eyes dissipates.

“Me too,” he admits. “Shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“No, it…I mean, I don’t mi…it’s—” You stammer, trying to figure out how to say you missed him without saying it outright.

Eventually you snap your mouth shut, face burning. You see him glance at you out of the corner of your eye, then lean further back into his seat.

“You, um.” A smile is playing on his lips. “The tea, earlier....I didn’t think you drank tea.”

Your face feels even hotter. You swallow. “…I do now.”

He doesn’t say anything the rest of the drive, but that smile stays in the corners of his mouth.

The address, an old brick bungalow, is different from the last safehouse—probably closer to where you live, you assume. The porch light is on, and you see movement in a window as you park along the curb.

“Stop, just—would you hang on a minute?” You huff as Geonhak opens his door, unbuckling.

You hurry out of your seat and around the front of your car as Geonhak tries to ease out by himself. He grunts in pain and stumbles over into you, and you sway as you attempt to keep balance for two people.

“I got it,” he says, trying to straighten, face twisting in pain.

“You really don’t,” you say firmly, locking your car and helping him up the walkway. “Cut the heroics.”

It’s Keonhee who opens the door as you reach the five little stairs up to the porch. You’re surprised to see him in pajamas and glasses.

“Up you get, come on,” he says, coming to Geonhak’s injured side and gingerly lifting his other arm over his shoulders. Keonhee glances over Geonhak’s shoulder and smiles at you, somewhat of a grimace. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but…”

Your smile is also half grimace, remembering the first time you met him, when he treated your black eye. “Agreed.”

Keonhee’s taller than you, so when he straightens, Geonhak’s arm stretches up higher, and he hisses.

“Son of a bitch, Keonhee, ow,” Geonhak grits through his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, get inside, you big baby,” Keonhee mutters. “I know for a fact you’ve had worse knife wounds before.”

Ice drops into your stomach; a knife. That man had gotten close enough to hurt Geonhak with a knife.

With Keonhee in the lead, the three of you shuffle sideways up the porch stairs and through the front door. To the left of the entryway is a little kitchen. To the right you see a small sitting room, with a couch covered in a few sheets. The coffee table has a spread of little tools that remind you of emergency room procedurals on TV.

“In there, if you don’t mind,” Keonhee says. “I made coffee before I remembered you drink tea, Geonhak, so there’s coffee if you want it.”

“Water for them,” Geonhak manages, panting as you help ease him to lie down across the couch.

You stick your tongue out at him but don’t argue. Your mind and body are starting to catch up with the shock of an injured Geonhak, and you don’t want to make yourself even more jittery.

Keonhee disappears briefly into the kitchen, emerging with a glass and a mug. You take the water gratefully, hiding yourself in the glass as you swallow back half of it.

When you lower it again, Keonhee is seated beside the couch and inspecting Geonhak’s head wound. He swabs at it with alcohol wipes and clucks his tongue.

“Stupid, but not awful,” Keonhee says, fighting a smile as Geonhak swears violently under his breath at a firmer prod. “Probably won’t even need stitches. Just bled a lot.”

“You’ll bleed a lot if you don’t cut that out,” Geonhak grumbles. Keonhee snorts and scoots back, lifting the hoodie to get a better look at his side.

“Need a few stitches here, though,” Keonhee says, pausing when Geonhak jolts from the rubbing alcohol sting. “Ribs hurt at all?”

“Not as much as yours will if y—shit,” Geonhak hisses at another pass of the alcohol wipe.

“Look at you, king of the streets, brought to your knees by antiseptic,” Keonhee says, grinning.

Geonhak glares at him, breathing heavily. “I say king of the streets one time, back in high school, and you won’t let it die.”

“Nope.” Keonhee pops the “p” and reaches for a few things on the coffee table.

You take a deep breath, setting down your glass with shaky hands. “Uhm, if I needed the bathroom, where…?”

Keonhee’s eyes are understanding. “Down that way, on the right. I’ll be quick. He’s seen worse.”

You hear Geonhak’s “fucking hell” from the living room before you close the bathroom door behind you.

You lean heavily on your hands against the sink and rest your forehead against the mirror, allowing yourself a moment in the whirlwind of thoughts. Knife wound. They got him. He’s been hurt worse before.

He came to me. When he got hurt, he came to find me. I got to see him again.

That’s what feels the most shocking, that he’s here, you’re here, back in his world, when you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. You know he’d told you it was for your own good that he keep a distance, and you didn’t think his reasons were bad. It still hurt, though, to make such a connection with him and then watch him disappear from your life like he’d never been there.

Well, now you’ve seen him again—covered in blood, admittedly, but nonetheless. He hadn’t been a figment of your imagination, after all. He’ll be on the mend soon, and then…

You gulp. That’s what’s scariest. How fleeting being here, being back in his circle, feels. You wish for selfish things for a brief moment—for a few more nights of Irish Breakfast, a few more conversations, even one more exchange of banter, for wounds that need time to heal, time you can spend with him. The thought that he’ll slip away again forever after this is…

A soft knock on the door startles you a little too much. “Hm?”

“He’s all patched up now, all fine,” Keonhee says. “Just needs a couple days of low activity and he’ll be back to normal.”

You sniff, leaning back off of your hands. “Good. I…good.”

There’s a pause. “I’d like to take a look at you when you come out. Customary check.”

“Oh, uh, sure, yeah, coming out.”

You reach up to itch a spot on your cheek and blink when your hand comes back wet. You wipe under both eyes, hands coming away damp. When you glance at your reflection, you grimace at how blotchy you look. There’s no way to hide it, so you sigh and brace for the inevitable, opening the door.

Keonhee studies you for a moment, then says, “let’s see if I’ve got tea somewhere after all, hm?”

It feels a bit wrong to dig through his cupboards and pantry like this, but Keonhee encourages it, clapping your shoulder when you find an old box of orange pekoe.

“You’ll be staying tonight, of course,” he says after he cleans out the coffee pot and begins brewing plain hot water. “At least until the shock wears off.”

You purse your lips as you retrieve two mugs. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

Keonhee scoffs, putting a tea bag in each one. “Please. You’re more tolerable than he is, swearing at me over a little scratch.”

“Is it really that minor?” You ask, watching yourself run a thumb over the lip of a mug.

“He’s just fine,” Keonhee says, firm and reassuring. “He’ll be back to intimidating us all at full capacity far too quickly.”

The nobler side of you relaxes at this. Your less noble side wishes for a few more days of bed rest. You try to ignore the less noble side.

“Perhaps I should worry more about you,” Keonhee says, studying you. “You’ve been well?”

You laugh once. “Oh, yes. I’m just fine. I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of a single made man until this week, much less tangled with any of them.”

You wince inwardly at how bitter you sound. Ridiculous.

Keonhee hums, taking the now-filled pot of hot water and pouring it into the mugs. “I see an awful lot of made men, but that doesn’t necessarily add or detract from any tangles. Surprising, how much you can see of them without being involved.”

You don’t know what to say to that. You realize with a pang that you’re almost jealous of him, of his ability to be involved but not involved.

He frowns at one of the mugs as it steeps. “I should go check how he takes it, I can never remember—”

“That’s alright, I’ve got it,” you say, waving that away and preparing both mugs.

Keonhee’s quiet as you labor over the tea. When he speaks, you can hear a slight smile.

“Good. I’ll go make up the air mattress, then, if you’ve got this under control.”

You make your way back into the sitting room slowly, trying not to spill either mug. Geonhak has every pillow propped up behind his back, an arm slung over his eyes. You frown when you see one of his ankles in a brace.

“You didn’t tell me your ankle was hurt.”

A corner of Geonhak’s mouth twitches. “Only twisted a little. It’s why I couldn’t keep better balance.”

He lowers his arm from his eyes and looks up at you. You lift his mug, nodding at it, and he inches his way further upright, grimacing.

“Let’s see how badly Keonhee did on this cup,” Geonhak says as he takes the mug.

“He didn’t make it. I did,” you say, sitting gingerly by his knees and blowing on your mug. “Two sugars, no cream. Strong. Brought the spoon when you want the bag out.”

You set your mug on the coffee table, now cleared of surgical instruments, and lift your teabag into said spoon, twisting the string round and draining the excess. You feel Geonhak’s silent, studying gaze and try not to let it fluster you as you find a wastebasket at the end of the couch to toss the teabag.

You take a sip of the tea, then blink. “You know, I always thought orange pekoe would be…well, orange flavored. But this is just another black tea.” Hmm. Suppose it can’t hurt to have around for guests, so the nicer teas can be for you.

“Damn it,” Geonhak sighs softly.

You glance over at him as you blow on your tea, raising an eyebrow. He’s cradling his tea placidly against his stomach, eyes shut.

“You make it so difficult.”

You blink. “So difficult to what?”

He opens his eyes and meets your gaze. “To stay away from you.”

Your lungs feel suddenly empty. Oh. Some warm and electric feeling zings up your spine.

You look down into your mug, pulse skipping. “…I see. My hopelessness when it comes to tea, back at it again.”

When he speaks, you can hear his smile. “Might play a part, maybe.”

You take another swig of tea, bracing yourself. “I wish…I wish you wouldn’t stay away, but I, you know, I get it. Promise.”

You shrug a shoulder, grimacing.

He purses his lips, then sets the mug down. “Mind getting the bag for me?”

You set your tea down and grab the spoon, finagling with the tea bag in his cup.

His fingers brush against your knee, backs of his knuckles rubbing gently back and forth. You swallow, throat surprisingly dry for how much tea you’ve drank, tossing his teabag and setting the spoon aside again.

“Don’t like when you’re in danger,” he murmurs.

You nod, picking your mug up again with shakier hands than you’d like.

“Don’t want to be the reason you’re in danger,” he says quietly.

You nod again, tilting your head thoughtfully and taking a sip of tea. “Keonhee’s got a lot of your guys in his life and he’s not in danger.”

“He’s under my uncle’s protection,” Geonhak says, not unkindly.

You shrug a shoulder. “Well…think I might be now, too. He intimidated that man into leaving and then left a hundred dollar tip for his muffins.”

Geonhak laughs once, and his hand opens on your knee, resting warm and firm.

“Touché.”

You take another sip of tea, gathering courage, then drop your hand to your knee and curl your fingers around his hand.

His gaze makes you feel shy, but you don’t look away, drinking in the way it feels to be looked at like this.

He shakes his head at himself, smiling wryly. “Knew exactly what I was doing tonight. Might’ve been easier to go to a few different places, but I went out of my way.”

His fingers squeeze yours.

“I just missed you,” he whispers.

It’s a good thing you hear Keonhee clattering back down the hall. You’re not sure you have the power of speech anymore.

Keonhee forces Geonhak to give up two pillows (“you have all the other pillows in my house, fiend, surrender one to me and to the guest”) and pushes aside the coffee table to make up your bed. It’s a good thing you were already in pajamas, you think as you sit at the edge of the air mattress. No need to sleep in clothes, unlike Geonhak, despite your hoodie.

When the lights go out and Keonhee goes back to bed, you spend a while staring up at the ceiling. You realize, too late, that there was caffeine in both of those teas. Late night caffeine intake versus shock exhaustion, fight.

“There’s, um.”

You glance over at Geonhak on the couch. He’s looking up at the ceiling, too. “There’s this place on the other side of town, a bar? But it’s got cats, like a cat cafe. Hwanwoong tells me you’d really like it.”

You purse your lips, fighting the massive grin threatening to take over your whole face. “I’ve heard of it. It’s got some cat pun name, yeah?”

“Yeah, I can’t think of it, either,” he says, laughing softly.

His hand reaches out and finds yours in the darkness. “Wanna try it with me, maybe? Like, in a week or two, obviously, or Keonhee will put my head on a stake.”

You laugh quietly, squeezing his hand. “I’d like that.”

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, gentle. “Okay.”

When you finally fall asleep, your hand is still in his.

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poisonouswritings · 2 years ago

Note

I saw u mentioned something about MC and hang going to the beach for their road-trip and I just think that is a wonderful idea!!! Aaahhhh everyone looking absolutely amazing in their swim gear, just so cute!!! (Unfortunately Sage will probably be dying bc he refuses to make the moves but c’mon man, you can do it!!!) anyways I hope you have a lovely day <3

I've got like,, several different directions that people wanna take this series in so I'm gonna have to start labeling things as alt routes lol. Let's call this Part 3 and this can kinda be where things branch out.

Roadtrip Part 1

Roadtrip Part 2

GN!Reader, SFW (there will be an alt NSFW addition whenever I get it done), someone gets chased by seagulls, I wanna do a general beach post soon

After a couple days of driving (and plenty of sitting on Sage's lap, much to his chagrin) you guys come across a cute seaside town. It's a good place to make a stop and recover a bit (and let Lucan and Balsam catch up to you guys, since they left later than you guys did. Elowen says that's the reason she opted to drive with you all instead of waiting for them, but really it's because she wanted to help with The Plan), so you guys decide to spend a day there and leave the following morning.

(Un)Fortunately you and Sage shared a two-bed room last night, so no sleeplessness there. I mean maybe a little. But not significant enough to affect you the next day, so you're at full energy to enjoy the beach! You change into your swimsuit in the bathroom and throw some clothes on top. By the time you come back out, Sage is already in swimming trunks and Rime is already pounding on the door telling you two to stop fucking and get moving already!! When Sage opens the door to tell him to knock it off, Rime almost seems a little disappointed.

After stopping at the car to grab the umbrellas and blankets and so on, you all head out into town, stopping at a little café to grab some breakfast pastries and snacks before heading on to the beach.

What is everyone wearing? Well,, and bare with me here Pinterest is not very precise;

Felix is sitting under the umbrella, trying to keep out of the sun. He's wearing something like this.

Rime is sitting with Felix for the most part, but he's definitely suntanning a little. He's in something like this

Anisa couldn't bring her surfboard because it didn't fit in the car, so she has her boogie board. She's in something like this

Elowen says she's reading a book but,, cat instincts,,, warm sun,,,, zzz,,, wearing this

Tulsi in a bikini top and swim trunks,, she's building a sand castle while wearing this

Lucan and Balsam (when they finally show up) are matching. Specifically, Balsam got trunks and then Lucan thought it would be funny to get the same ones. So they're wearing these . Sage jokes that they look like one of those kind of couples and he gets double-noogied for it.

Speaking of Sage, he was gonna wear one of those funny trunks where it's like,, an elephant and your dick is the trunk,,,, but the thought of wearing that in front of you made his stomach flip so he's just wearing something like this

Side note once Lucan and Balsam show up they're throwing their arms around Sage's shoulders and taking him on a walk. Tulsi and Elowen have been keeping them updated on the situation and

Once they get out of earshot, Balsam is giving Sage's ears a tug and Lucan is shaking his shoulders.

You! Were! In! His! Lap! With! His! Hard-on! Against! Your! Ass! He! Shared! A! Fucking! Bed! With! You! And he still didn't make a move?? Sage is a self-professed player. He's seduced people with far fewer opportunities, so why the hell is he choking when it comes to you?

Sage, red-faced and scowling, bats them away. That's just it, isn't it? He can't do it because it's you. You're... The exception.

Lucan smiles sweetly and says that hey, now his wingmen are here, and between the three of them they can definitely figure this out! Meanwhile Balsam is grinning evilly over there.

Sage is,, a bit concerned,,,

The three of them head back over. As Lucan goes to scare Elowen awake (which will end horribly) and Balsam goes to mess with Tulsi's sand castle (which will end horribly), you trot up to Sage with your hands behind your back. He's still a little flushed from Balsam's and Lucan's teasing and seeing the excitement on your face isn't helping with that.

"What d'you got there?" His voice is light with bemusement.

You reveal a little seashell and motion for Sage to hold his hand out. When he does, you set the mini conch in his palm.

"The cutest shell for the cutest person on the beach :)"

*unintelligible noises of distress*

While Sage goes to put the shell in his bag (and cool off his cheeks), you round up the others for some volleyball. That involves getting Elowen to stop chasing Lucan, and Tulsi and Balsam to stop fortifying the sandcastle. Elowen just picks Anisa up and drags her over, and Rime comes along probably to show off to Felix a little bit

It's Sage, Lucan, Balsam, and Elowen on one team and Anisa, Tulsi, Rime, and yourself on the other.

If you're not good at volleyball, that's okay! Because as soon as Anisa hits the ball over the net Lucan is running after it and then bringing it back, tail wagging in excitement.

Puppy wants to play fetch plz

The game goes back and forth. While the Griefer side is definitely more powerful, Lucan (and Sage, and Elowen to a lesser extent) keeps getting distracted by the ball and fighting over it. Balsam keeps teasing all of them for it.

Anyways the game ends because Sage spikes the ball directly into your face. Everyone is freaking out except for Tulsi, who is wheezing with laughter because Sage Is Such A Fucking Idiot™ . Sage helps you sit down under the umbrella (he seems to think you might have a concussion, even if you assure him you're fine) and gets you some ice for your nose. He generally just hovers around you while not getting too close because he's afraid of hurting you again. Eventually you catch his hand and drag him over to sit next to you and then he finally settles. Now he's all embarrassed and can't look at you but his tail is wagging.

Snacc time! Everyone gathers around to have some fruits and chips and stuff. Sage jokingly offers to feed you. If you go along with it he starts stammering a little bit. You ask if he's blushing but he says it's a sunburn. Honestly it could be. He forgot to put on sunscreen earlier.

Tulsi, Balsam, Sage, and yourself all bury Lucan in the send. Lucan likes it. The sand is warm. Balsam and Sage give him boobs.

You wanna suntan,, roll onto your stomach and ask Sage if he can put some lotion on your back,,,, he's dead. His hands are trembling a tiny bit

As the sun goes down and the air starts to cool, you guys pack up and decide to walk around town instead. There are a lot of cute little shops and stands to check out, y'know?

Mermaid store! Mermaid store! Mermaid store! There's one in San Diego (or at least there was a couple years ago) and it's basically a bunch of mermaid/nautical little trinkets and souvenirs. Cute place. Sage is primarily talking to you and Balsam leans over and says he's being very 'shellfish' keeping you all to himself. He's very proud of his pun. Sage is not.

You guys end up a little diner,, sitting outside on the patio under some fairy lights and looking at the ocean,,, it's cold so Sage puts his jacket over your shoulders and sits next to you cause he's like a hearth,,,,, his face is still red but no one is sure whether it's from being flustered or being sunburnt,,,,,,, it's a little of both,,,,,,,,,,,,,

#last legacy #fictif last legacy #sage lesath #sage lesath x reader #fictif sage #last legacy sage #tulsi ain #lucan de bhaldraithe #elowen de bhaldraithe #anisa anka #felix iskandar escellun #rime solano varela #fictif balsam #anon asks #ozzy answers #ozzy daydreams

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sunarinluvr · 3 years ago

Text

|| haikyuu boys after a long day ||

includes: sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu, & suna rintarou

a/n- hi!! heres some fluff for haikyuu boys after a long day post time-skip,,,this was also not proofread and i’ve written these at 4am so please bear with me ;_; hope u enjoy it! also i apologize for only posting now T^T

warnings: none! (lmk if theres anything i missed)

SAKUSA -

today was just extremely draining. he was woken up by you panicking as the both of you had overslept, and was about to be late. he also couldnt get his spikes right during practice which frustrated him more since he had a match in a few days.

when sakusa finally arrived home he was greeted by you and your smile that always made his day a little bit better. "rough day?" you asked tilting your head slightly so that you could get a better view of him.

he gave you a little nod as he dropped his bag and put his shoes away. padding over to the couch where you were seated, he plopped down and tilted his head back. “omi do you want to eat anything? wait no you probably want to shower—”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence as sakusa leaned closer to you and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck “can we..stay like this for awhile?” he muttered softly. you smiled and wrapped your arms around him “of course my love”

after awhile, you noticed it was getting late and it would be best for him if he took a bath and got to bed, so despite wanting to stay like that for a little longer you rubbed his back gently “omi, why don’t i start you a bath? so that you can sleep right after”

sakusa groans in your neck and you giggle because you rarely got to see this side of him,, he was absolutely adorable. nevertheless he sat up and let you start a bath for him.

when the bath was ready you called for him and just as you were about to leave he grabbed your wrist. you looked at him but he switched his gaze onto the floor “aren’t you going to join me?” he asked so softly that if you weren’t listening carefully you would’ve missed it.

you cupped his cheeks and tilting his face so that both your eyes met. not missing the slight blush on his cheeks you smiled softly “your so cute when you’re like this omi, you get in first i’ll go grab my towel” with a quick kiss to his forehead you were out the door.

once the two of you were cleaned up, you both climbed into bed and sakusa was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him. with a gentle kiss to your lips he nuzzles his nose in your hair as he muttered a sleepy but endearing “i love you so much” and with a content sigh you cuddled closer to him “i love you too omi.”

ATSUMU -

he was tired to say the least. the coach was ruthless today and made everyone do their drills twice to make up for their previous loss. atsumu wanted absolutely nothing more than to cuddle with you.

once practice ended he quickly showered and rushed home to you. dropping his duffel bag at the door and messily removing his shoes “y/n? baby! am home!” he called out. “in here babe”

you replied while stirring the dinner you were currently making. seeing atsumu you gave him your brightest smile as you walked towards him to give him a hug and his welcome home kiss, not missing the tired look in his eyes “welcome home. did the coach make you do more drills today?” you asked lightly chuckling

atsumu buried his face into your neck with a small smile on his face— groaning and hugging you a bit tighter “coach was ruthless princess, made us do drills twice” he mumbled

“sounds like my tsum had it rough today, go get changed dinners almost ready” you said softly while gently rubbing his back. “no... a just wanna cuddle with ya. a missed ma baby so much” he said whining. at that you laughed and slowly shook your head, atsumu couldn’t help but feel his heart do a small flip at the sound of your laugh.

“tsumu, we can cuddle all you want later. right now i’m starving and i’m sure you are too” without saying another word and a quick peck to your lips he retreated slowly to your shared bedroom to get changed while you prepared the food.

as you ate dinner he made sure to always have a hand on your thigh—this just made you laugh because your boyfriend was being so needy it was adorable. after he put the dishes away, you called for him “tsum come here! let’s watch a movie” you said with your arms opened and he walks to you with a huge smile on his face.

dropping himself on the couch he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist as you played with his hair. “thank you a love ya so much princess”he said softly. “i love you more baby” you reply as you start the movie. a few minutes in you wonder why he got so quiet all of a sudden, so you quickly check on him

only to be met by him softly snoring while his face was nuzzled into your chest. you always thought atsumu was adorable, but his sleeping face is just unmatched, the way his bangs fell over his eyes and his little content smile. knowing that you’re the only one who gets to see this side of him makes your heart swell. with a gentle kiss to his forehead you say “goodnight tsumu.”

SUNA -

to say suna had a hectic day would be an understatement. right after a long day of training he had to rush to an interview, he forgot he had after rescheduling it for the 3rd time this month (i mean you can't blame him, he finds interviews very draining). during the interview all he could think about was being in your arms, so he rushed home the moment it ended.

quickly opening the door to your apartment, he took off his shoes and carefully placed his bag on top of a table. “babe? i’m home.” he calls out, but he gets no response. he tries again, “babe?? im home!” no answer. he makes his way to the living room, then to your shared bedroom.

with a sigh of defeat he walks back to the living room getting ready to text you where you were when he remembered. “rin....rinnie...baby!” you said with a huge smile on your face. he hummed looking at you with a raised brow “i’m going to be out late next friday, it is my friends birthday. don’t worry i wont be out too long!”

“ughh why’d she have to be out today” suna mumbled to himself with a little frown on his face. he decided to wait for you to come home, so he put himself in a comfortable position on the couch as he scrolled through his phone, slowly his eyelids got heavier and heavier, until next thing you know he’s sound asleep on the couch.

a few hours later you finally came home. “i’m home” you say gently as you make your way to the living room. as you passed by the couch you noticed suna’s sleeping figure. ‘he looks so cute’ you think to yourself. quickly whipping out your phone to take pictures of him so you can tease him about it later.

after taking a lot a few photos, you quickly get changed out of your work clothes into some sweats and an oversized sweatshirt. walking back into the living room you give him a quick kiss on the forehead, but before you could fully stand up you felt suna’s arm wrap around you. gasping at the sudden movement, you lose your balance and ended up plopping on top of him.

suna laughs as you playfully hit his chest. “hi pretty baby. welcome home, did you have fun today?” giggling softly you lift your head a bit so you can see his face “hello to you too rin, and yes today was pretty eventful. what about you? have you eaten?” he just shrugs as he hugs you tighter and nuzzles his face into your neck.

“i ate dinner before going to the interview, my day was pretty tiring, but its ok now because you’re here” you can feel his smirk on your neck as you roll your eyes at him. “whatever you say.”

after a few minutes of catching up with each other, you forced him to get out of the couch and move to your shared bedroom. once you both got under the covers he turns to you with a small smile and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. “goodnight rin, i love you” burying his nose into your hair he replies with a soft “goodnight, i love you more.”

reblogs are highly appreciated!!

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twiceinadream · 3 years ago

Text

“Make me yours.”

Requested: Yup

Request: shy! Alphas dahyun and tzuyu mating reader for the first time. Like there shy until she just begs them to take her and something jus flips?

a/u: Hey, y’all, I’m back! I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, writer’s block and life haven’t really been my friends for the past seven weeks, but I finally managed to finish a fic! I hope you enjoy it and my slow return back to posting. Also thank you so much for 3,000k+ followers, I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Clouds began to crowd the sky as the morning light was blocked by the downpour that had seemed to manifest out of thin air, the streets made slick with rain as early commuters combated with the elements. But it also created a peaceful atmosphere for you and your girlfriends as the light tapping of the rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows gradually roused you from the depths of sleep, a loud yawn erupted from your lips as your eyes fluttered open.

The scent of the two Alphas snuggled on either side of you filling your senses as you reveled in the moment, enjoying the feel of their bodies against yours until it seemed like you began to burn up. Your skin felt clammy as sweat began to bead along your hairline, the feel of fire felt like it was beginning to claim the pit of your stomach when an overwhelming sense of urgency coursed through your veins, ‘You were in heat.’

The comforter covering your bodies felt suffocating as you pressed your thighs together in an effort to stop the wetness from sleeping out on the bed, while you did your best to weasel away from the women clinging to you. Holding your breath as you snaked your way to the edge of the mattress so you could make a bolt to the en-suite, locking the door behind you as your legs finally gave out from under you and helplessly slid onto the floor.

Your underwear was completely soaked in your slick as you barely had enough strength to peel them off you before discarding them on the bathroom floor. The feel of the tile under your heated skin did wonders to relieve the burn you felt as one of your hands began sliding it’s way down to the burning between your legs. You shyly toyed with your slit as your fingertips dipped shallowly into your center, running your fingers through the wetness but stopping before you could properly pay attention to your clit as more of your essence began spilling out. Drenching your hand in wetness as you finally gave in and plunged into your depths. Your walls immediately tightened around the sudden intrusion as a guttural moan released itself from deep within your chest, your hand pistoned itself in and out of your entrance as you could feel your first release building up inside of you. The cool in your stomach growing taught as you pulled your fingers out from inside and moved up to attack your clit.

Your fingers frantically flicking, rubbing, and circling the straining bundle of nerves as your eyes remain squeezed shut, your breathing beyond labored as you balled your fist against the tile. Your body bracing itself as it froze for a fraction of a second before releasing all the tension it had stored within itself.

Streams of pent up arousal came shooting out of you as you continued to focus all your energy onto your clit as your peak took you to heights you never thought imaginable. You were becoming acutely aware of the screams echoing off the bathroom walls that you finally recognized as your own as your orgasm finally died down. Slight jerks wracked your body as your hand fell to the side, a content smile forming on your lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm thrummed throughout your body. A contented sigh falling from your lips as you rested peacefully against the bathroom door, until a knock sounded cr behind it.

“Y..Y/N? Are you okay?” Your blood ran cold as Dahyun’s voice sounded from behind the door.

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, “Everything’s fine!” You tried to sound more put together than you felt to mask the fact you were in heat and surrounded by your two, unmated girlfriends.

“No you’re not.” It was Tzuyu this time. “We can smell you from underneath the door.”

‘Well, shit.’ You mused to yourself as you slowly began to stand up, ‘That didn’t work.’ You sighed, knowing it was impossible to put off the inevitable, “Okay, fine. I’m coming out.”

To say you were nervous would be a gigantic understatement as you braced yourself to face your girlfriends. Exhaling slowly as you pushed the door open to find the two Alphas you had left in bed this morning staring at you, “Morning.”

Dahyun and Tzuyu deadpanned as they stood up straighter, your scent finally hitting them in full force as they took in your appearance. From the flush of your cheeks to the clenching of your thighs, “You’re in heat.”

It was your turn to deadpan as you looked at Tzuyu, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Dahyun suppressed a laugh as she tried not to look at the stunned disbelief on the taller Alpha’s face, “What Tzumong meant to say was, ‘Would you like some help with it?’.”

You giggled slightly, “Depends.” A coy smile grew on your face as you palmed the Alpha’s bulges through their boxers, enjoying the way their alpha-hoods swelled under your touch. Their scents combined into a dominant musk that made your mind spin and your core clench. “What do you have to offer?”

Tzuyu huffed a laugh and sat on the bed beside you, reaching her hand between your legs to rub at your swollen, slick clit to ease the need that your heat would be bringing without someone inside you. Dahyun quickly pulled her shirt and bra over her head, tossing them both to the floor and eased her boxers the rest of the way down her legs. She watched with a smile on her face as Tzuyu teased you and pressed her own erection up against you, grinding to work you up even more.

Dahyun climbed back onto the bed, laying down beside you as her cock strained against the cold air of the room, slipping her hand down to press two fingers inside of you. Tzuyu pulled her own hand away, drawing out a desperate groan from you as she did so. She undressed quickly, her clothes ending up on a pile on the floor next to Dahyun’s. Her hand found your clit again as she laid down beside you like Dahyun had done.

“What do you want us to do to you, baby? You’re already so wet for us.”

You struggled to find the words to answer that question, your mind torn between how good both of their hands felt on you but also the desire and the need for more. Tzuyu chuckled when she didn’t get a response to her question, her eyes flicking up to meet Dahyun’s.

“Then I guess it’s up to us. Isn’t it, Y/N-ah?” Tzuyu ran her tongue over your lips eliciting a groan at all the possibilities of what was to come at the hands of your Alphas.

Dahyun couldn’t suppress her smile as she felt her length pulse, “Sounds good to me, Tzu.” Both of the girls took their time to feel you up as they each made their way to some part of you. Dahyun moved in front of you to place lingering kisses along your chest making you squirm against her wandering lips while Tzuyu busied herself with placing open mouthed kisses on the base of your neck and up to your jaw as you continued to pant under their ministrations.

The slick between your legs was practically smeared along your thighs and probably soaking into the bed sheets by now with how turned on you were. The fire of your heat burned so hot in your lower belly that you felt like it was going to consume you from the inside out if the Alphas surrounding you didn’t do something quick.

A desperate whine left your throat as you rocked your hips backwards to grind against Tzuyu, her hardness digging into your ass when you finally decided that now was finally the time.

You were finally going to ask them to be your mates.

A shuddering breath fell from your lips as sweat dripped down your face, a look of determination in your eyes as you called both of your girlfriend’s attentions. Causing them to momentarily stop what they were doing to face you, “I’m ready.”

The sudden confession surprised them both as Dahyun looked at you with concern, “Are you sure?”

You appreciated her worry but you could barely think of anything other than the two of them plowing you into the mattress as you nodded, “Make me yours.”

A wide smile broke out onto both of their faces as they placed a kiss on opposite sides of your cheeks, Tzuyu nuzzling into your hair as she wrapped her arms around your waist, “And we’ll make you ours.”

The both of them helped you roll onto your side, having you face Dahyun. Tzuyu’s hands helped to support your thighs to keep them spread for Dahyun as she brought the head of her cock to your already dripping cunt. She chose to tease you at first, not pressing inside but instead rubbing slow, steady circles with it, enjoying the way your entrance fluttered the more you got worked up. Sliding her alpha-hood between your folds to lube up her length a little more before she got ready to push into you for the first time, not bothering to add any additional lubrication other than your guy’s combined wetness as you were practically soaking.

Tzuyu snaked one hand up to palm at your breasts, tugging and pinching a nipple between her fingers, causing your hips to jerk forward towards Dahyun. When she finally pushed forward, sliding the tip of her cock inside of you after she felt you had enough teasing. Your breath catching in your throat as she slowly began pushing into you, your walls squeezing down on her at the unfamiliar stretch as you gritted your teeth a little at the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut as Tzuyu whispered words of encouragement into your ear as she continued to toy with your breasts, doing her best to make the small amount of pain you were experiencing turn to pleasure as soon as possible.

Your body relaxed when Dahyun had finally bottomed out inside of you, she waited patiently for you to adjust to her size when you nodded, “You can move.”

She grunted in response as she pulled out so that only the head of her cock remained inside of you, before carefully thrusting back inside of you causing you to cry out in relief as you were filled up again, the stretch of Dahyun’s length starting to finally feel pleasant. You tilted your head back to rest against Tzuyu’s chest, panting loudly as Dahyun began thrusting.

She took over Tzuyu’s hand that had been supporting your thigh, as she brought your leg to hook around her hip instead. Tzuyu continued to palm at your breast with one hand, moving her now free hand to your ass, using her finger to tease at your other hole. A needy and desperate whimper escaped your lips as Tzuyu’s finger prodded and threatened to press inside.

“So eager.” The taller Alpha teased with a chuckle before standing up, heading to their bedside table.

You let out a whine, Dahyun’s cock was inside you just like you wanted - needed - but her hips stopped moving. You needed more and you needed it now. Dahyun shushed your whines, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder before switching to nipping at the skin, enjoying the breathy moans you gave in response.

The bed dipped as Tzuyu found her spot behind you again except this time with a bottle of lube in hand. Tzuyu popped the cap, squeezing it into the palm of her hand with a wet noise before tossing the bottle aside. With one hand she began to ease her fingers inside your hole, starting with just one digit but quickly moving to two with the desperate noises she was making.

Dahyun waited patiently, wanting so much to just begin thrusting with how amazing it felt to be inside of you, your walls clenching tightly around her but she knew she had to wait for Tzuyu and it would be worth it. Tzuyu worked her way up to three fingers, enjoying the way you stretched for her before finally pulling away, earning yet another desperate whimper from deep within your chest. She used the rest of the lube to slick up her own cock as she pressed the head of it against your hole, pausing for just a moment before pressing inside.

You clung to Dahyun’s shoulders, fingernails digging in harshly as you wailed with pleasure, feeling both of your holes be filled up just like you’d been impatiently waiting for. There was a pause when Tzuyu bottomed out, the two alphas giving you a moment to adjust before Dahyun gave the first thrust. Your fingernails dragging down Dahyun’s back with a loud moan as Tzuyu thrusted in as soon as Dahyun was drawing back, the two of them alternating their thrusts into you.

“More! Please, please more!” You gasped, your heart racing and mind dizzy as your heat fully took hold and demanded even more from them.

Both Dahyun and Tzuyu were more than willing to oblige. Dahyun moved one hand up to pinch at one of your nipples, while Tzuyu busied her mouth with sucking dark hickeys into the muscle of your shoulders. They both began to thrust into you harder, enjoying the loud moans that you were letting out. You squirmed between them, not to get away from the pleasure but seeking out anything else they could give you.

“How does it feel, Jagi?” Dahyun asked breathlessly, punctuating her words with a teasing press of her newly formed knot against your aching entrance, “I bet you’ve been dreaming of this moment. Tzumong and me filling you to the brim as you lose control”

Tzuyu leaned in, murmuring against your ear as she joined in on the teasing, “You’re so spoiled, Y/N-ah. Having two Alphas taking care of your heat.”

“Fuck! Just…knot me.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as their teasing made the coil in your belly tighten.

Dahyun used one hand to grip your hip to push her knot inside first, doing so with a rough snap of her own hips followed by a delighted sigh. It had entered with a loud, slick pop. Your inner walls instantly clenched tightly around it. By the noises you were making, both Dahyun and Tzuyu could tell that you were so close to your peak, so Tzuyu followed Dahyun’s lead, pushing her knot inside your ass with a forceful thrust.

Causing you to cry out as you clenched hard on the two cocks inside you, viciously dragging your fingernails down Dahyun’s back as you felt both of your girlfriends release inside of you. Filling you up with their cum as they grunted and groaned against you, both of them sharing the same thought as they simultaneously sank their teeth into both sides of your neck.

Mating you.

Claiming you.

Their bites were the final straw as you were thrown over the edge, a high pitched scream escaped from your throat as you felt all the tension building inside of your body finally find its release. White filled your vision as every part of you spasmed, helpless to the onslaught of pure pleasure that made every nerve in your body stand on end. Before your high began to taper off as you fell bonelessly against Tzuyu.

The Alpha snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her, palm rubbing and pressing against your stomach. A weak groan escaped from you at how full you felt before Tzuyu stopped, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Before propping herself up on one elbow, watching as Dahyun began to card her fingers through your hair, a goofy smile on her face as she trailed a finger down to the fresh bite on the right side of your neck. Her mark.

Both of their knots had shrunk enough inside of you for them to pull out but they continued to lie there, not moving.

That was until Tzuyu began to laugh from behind you, jostling you and Dahyun slightly as she calmed with a sigh, “I can’t believe we did it. We’re mates.”

The word felt strange but familiar all at the same time as you pushed the Alphas back slightly so that they were no longer inside of you, allowing you to lie on your back so that you could see the both of them properly, “Took us long enough.”

A chuckle also came from Dahyun as she linked her fingers with Tzuyu’s as their hands rested against your stomach, “At least we did. I guess that finally makes you our Omega now, doesn’t it Y/N.”

You couldn’t suppress the smile growing on your face as you took their interlocked hands that were resting on your belly and brought them to your lips, kissing them both. “And I guess that makes you two my Alphas.”

The two smiled as they cuddled into either side of you, “Yes, yes it does.”

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mircoluv · 3 years ago

Text

inexperienced ✿ venti x gn!reader

characters included: venti

rundown: venti had never expected nor experience such love you gave to him. it all felt new to him, he can now understand how a adolescent feels when they are in love.

warnings: none <3

Mondstadt is the supposedly city with wine filled with love, yet their god had never fell in love. Barbatos the god, never fell in love until he met you. He knew he fell in love with you when his cheeks felt rather hot whenever you two met. Or when he felt his stomach do flips, it was such a different experience to him. And being an immortal god, it felt nice to fall in love and to feel this new feeling bubbling inside of him.

So when the Windblume Festival came by and he disguises himself as the bard with skillful fingers on the lyre, he decides it’s the best time to confess this undying feeling of his. He had his Cecilia flower on his beret either replaced or kept once he finds out what your favorite flower was that day. He surely couldn’t keep his composure as the winds exposed his uneasiness with howls and rough winds, the nuns were quite worried during the festival.

Yet, once all was said and done, he found himself a kiss on the cheek and a lover to be there by his side. The thought of you staying with him, had him swinging his legs and covering his face in the tavern. Lets just say, the nuns were relieved for the winds to be calmer and warm that evening.

It felt all so strange to him having you greet him with a kiss on the cheek instead of waving each other. How your hand will grab his at the plaza when you take strolls around with just you and him. His heart couldn’t take it anymore, it felt like it was going to explode any second. The thought of you kissing him on the lips left him red like Windwheel Aster and so nervous when the day would come.

He had told you that he was inexperienced at love and didn’t know what couples tend to do. He sees couples hold hands and kiss one another, but what about behind closed doors? You only smile and told him about how couples hold each other in their arms. He wonders if he can try it with you one day. He imagines it as you hold him as tightly as you can and him loving how close you are to him on the soft bed. The warmth radiating off of you as he smile with his eyes closed, only focusing on you and only you. His imagination could never top off how it felt when he got to experience cuddling you.

You were considerate of his little knowledge of being in a relationship so you never took the next step of kissing him on his pink lips. He would pout by himself when he sees others peck each other but he only receives a peck on the cheek. Venti wanted to feel your lips on his, it was on his mind most of the time and it was eating him alive. He wishes he can press his lips on yours, but he doesn’t know what would be the next step so he never does it. Not until you ask him if he’ll like you to kiss him that he gets to feel your lips on his.

You took the initiative, and let your hands move up to his cheeks, caressing them softly and moving his face to the right angle for a better position kiss. He tries to copy whatever your lips are doing but he doesn’t mind how much of a terrible job he’s doing, because he got to feel your lips after all those dreading days. Once you let go, you could see his cheeks glowing red and his eyes half lidded, seemingly trying to catch up what happened.

He only opens them to ask you a question you could never refuse,

“Can I kiss you again?”

—

a/n: aaaaaaaa posting again lololol,,, i love writing about venti for some reason ^_^ he’s a fun character to write about <33 hope u enjoy and stay safe!!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fluff #venti x reader #venti #gender neutral reader #x reader #venti barbatos #cute #venti <3

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Note

Peter Parker x popular!reader and they just start dating and Peter is really nervous around her and gets flustered whenever she’s close so to calm Peter you tell him it’s okay to touch u and maybe a give him a bj

A/N: sjjfkf thanks for sending so many prompts love you 😘😘 hope you like this eheh I don't like it very much ✌ beta read by @parkerpeter24 :)

Warnings: smut :) (characters are 18)

MINORS DNI

Wc: 1.9k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Girlfriend ↬ p.p

Peter Parker was the kind of guy who would get easily flustered if he was to talk to a girl, or any human as a matter of fact.

So it came off as a big shock to the Avengers when they found out that he, the shy nerdy Peter Parker, had a girlfriend at all.

They were all having a family dinner (something about bonding, Tony had said), when you called him, interrupting him from some Spidey adventure story he was reciting.

"Sorry guys, gotta take this," He said, phone smushed between his cheek and shoulder, fork halfway through his mouth, "uh, hey babe, what happened? Everything okay?"

Bucky and Steve were the first one to break out of their shocked stares as Peter called someone "babe" on the phone.

Surely you don't call your friend babe, right?

"Peter! Thank God you picked up, can you come over right now?" You said on the phone.

"Uh actually, I'm having dinner, is it okay if I come over in an hour or so?" He said, ignoring the shouted whispers about a brewing conspiracy of who could it be on the phone in the background.

"Okay, but don't forget like last time! I'm actually calling you to help me out with our chem lab manual-"

"-didn't we do it during homeroom yesterday?"

"Yeah but I need help with this one experiment, please Petey? I really need your help with this." You whine, hoping that he would catch your drift. But he didn't apparently, because he sighed, looking over his shoulders to see the Avengers with perked up ears, and replied;

"Okay fine. I'll be there in an hour Okay? Bye." He said and hung up, pocketing his phone and making his way to the dining room, only to be assaulted by a hundred and one questions.

"Peter who was that-"

"You've been keeping secrets from your father figure now-"

"Hope you're being safe, if you know what I mean-"

"Kids these days." (That was from Steve)

"Guys stop! One by one please!" Peter shouted, holding his hands to his ears, frowning as he glared at them, "why are you all asking these questions?"

"Because kid, if I'm being honest, we don't believe that you have a girlfriend, so spill the beans." Tony sighed, holding his cheek with his elbow on the table.

"Okay ouch. Why is it so hard to believe have a girlfriend?! I'm hot." Peter pouted, crossing his arms to try and look intimidating.

"Because you're you! You're shy nerdy Peter!" Tony said, gesturing at others to back him up.

"I mean, he's not that bad. Quite a charmer." Natasha smirked, sending him a look, which quite frankly, terrified and impressed Peter at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah totally."

"I believe you kid. Are we gonna meet her soon?" Tony rolled his eyes, smiling when he blushed red.

"If she's okay with it." He said, intertwining his fingers.

"Well I hope she is, cause I want to meet the girl who stole my kid's heart."

"Mr. Staaaark!"

***

Leaving the tower had been a difficult feat, with the constant questions and a snarky comment or two, especially when they found out that you were a cheerleader.

Rapping his knuckles on your apartment door, he smiled as you greeted him with an excited hug. He couldn't help but look at your skirt, the way it enhanced your waistline, and how it fit just right on your thighs, its frills swaying with the sway of your hips-

"Pete? You coming or what?" You laughed, a hand on your room's door as you look over your shoulder with glinting eyes.

"Uh- uh yeah just a minute. Are your parents home?" He asked casually, following you to your room.

"Nah, they're out for tonight." You said, closing the door behind him.

"Oh that's good, which experiment were you- Uh, what are you doing?" He asked, his voice rising an octave as he saw you unbuttoning your shirt, moving your fingers in slow motion as if to tease him.

"I finished my homework yesterday Petey, that's not why I called you." You whispered, straddling his lap as you hold his face, eyes shining with mischief. He instantly felt his dick harden as you rubbed against him, face burning when you traced his cheekbones, kissing his nose and then his lips.

"What, Uh, what did you call me for then?" He stuttered, holding your waist through the skirt's thin material, fingers itching to tear it off you. His heart was racing and he wondered if you could hear it doing so.

"You know why, it's been so long and I miss you baby." You whined, pouting as he unzips your skirt, watching it slide down your thighs in rivulets. You clench your thighs against his waist, intertwining your toes as you felt the space between your legs starting to wet.

"You met me in school yesterday." He mumbled, puffing his cheeks as he strained to keep a straight face, not with you looking so pretty in just your bra and skirt.

You had been overwhelmingly horny the past few hours, craving for your boyfriend's touch, imagining the way he fucked you against your bed frame as it shook with his strength.

"You miss me huh?" He smirked, catching you off guard when he flipped you over, holding you down as he rocked his hips against yours, leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, reaching between your breasts and stopping a moment enough to hear you whine.

"I missed you so much and I want to fuck you now." You said, sucking a breath when he all but tore your bra, arching your back to let his fingers linger on you.

"Missed you too, missed all of you, missed your wet pussy. Wanna show my pretty girl how much I missed her." He growled, sucking on the sensitive skin of your nipple as he massaged your breasts.

"Already wet for me eh?" He whispered, nibbling at your ear as he slid his length into You, "Fuck baby such a tight pussy."

Quickly undressing himself, you openly drooled at how packed your boyfriend was. It was not the first time you would be doing… it together since your six month long relationship, but it was the first time you got to see his dominant side, and it turned you on.

"Mmhmm yeah, only cause your dick is practically blue." You moaned, hissing when he hit a sensitive spot.

"Fuck, oh shit go faster Peter- oh!" You hissed, your skin slapping with his as he thrusts into you with a gusto.

"You like that babygirl?" He asked, eyes scrunching as he threw his head back, feeling your walls clench against his dick as you moved with him.

"Yes! You're so good oh- I'm gonna cum Peter!" You panted, chest heaving as your stamina decreases with every push and pull, your hands fisted on your sheets hard enough for them to pull out of your mattress.

You saw him flush red, confusion showing on your face as you tilted your head, your almost orgasm forgotten as you held his cheek, "what happened?"

"I- you've never um, org-orgasmed before on me." He muttered, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you with the most innocent look ever, and you would have laughed had his dick still not been inside you, midway in the air, his butt held high above.

"Peter… are You, we've literally fucked so many times and you're getting flustered over me orgasming?" You chuckled, wiping away the sweat forming on his forehead.

"Yeah but you've never come on my bare dick before!" He countered, gulping as he saw you smirk.

"Everything has a first time doesn't it?" You say, picking yourself upright so that you were chest to chest now, your nipples hardening against his bare chest as you rubbed against him, "Wanna try something?"

Your hand slides down to his dick as he nodded a yes, slowly pumping his balls as you kiss his lips. You hear him moan tour name, the sounds sending wetness dripping down your thighs again. Ignoring your thighs, you bent down to lick the tip of his dick, slick with pre cum and bright pink.

"Is this okay?" You ask, swirling your tongue teasingly, wetting his already wet dick with your mouth as you sucked at it with a pop.

"This is amazing baby, keep going." He threw his head back, a growl emitting from deep inside his throat, "wow uhhh."

"Wow what Petey?"

"Wow you're- you're amazing. God I've- I understand why people like being on the receiving end of the job right now."

"Job?" You laughed, "hun this isn't a Job."

"You- you know what I mean!" He chuckled, shaking his head as you continued to suck on it.

"No I don't. Please enlighten me." You smiled, peeping from under your lashes as your tongue works through his hard member.

"I know you know." He whimpered, hands creeping up to his balls as he tried to take care of his blues.

"No. Lemme do it." You slapped his hands, snickering when he whined.

"Oh Tony wants to meet you by the way." He said suddenly, making you groan and fall back dramatically.

"You know I don't do family members Petey." You mumbled, pulling him down, his mouth immediately latching onto the underside of your breasts.

"But why? Am I- aren't we serious enough now?" He asked.

Your heart stuttered at the thought of meeting one of the most important people in his life other than May. You and May had already met (post an unfortunate...accident), not to mention he was freaking Iron Man!

"It's not that. It's just, what if he doesn't like me? Or black widow. I'm not your normal nerdy girl with A grades, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or that I'm violating you for Spider-Man? What if-"

"- baby I swear they'll love You! And if they don't then it's their loss, because no matter what you are, who you are friends with, how many A's you get or don't, you'll always be my girl." His voice was soft as his hands moved with featherlight movements, rubbing light circles on your waist, instantly relaxing you.

"Are you sure?" You said, biting your lips and fiddling with his hair. He gave another moan as your fingers played with his hair, scratching slightly behind his ear.

"Yes bub, they will love you. You're very important to me, you know that right?" He said.

"Even if I wear short skirts and hang out with jocks?" You giggled, resting your forehead on his toned chest, playing with his skin.

"Especially if you wear those short skirts." He smirked, making you roll your eyes as you slapped his chest slightly. Sighing, you kissed him again, rolling over so you were laid on top of him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you let yourself fall asleep, with his clothes in your room and hand in your hair.

***

Peter woke up the next morning, the incessant ringing of his phone working as an alarm.

Groaning he rolled over, careful as to not wake you up, squinting at the bright screen of his phone. Before he could cut the ringer though, it cut off on its own, only to be taken over by a text.

You didn't come home last night kiddo 😏

Shit.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x avenger!reader #reader insert #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x stark reader #spideygirl writes

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gamergirl929 · 4 years ago

Text

I’m In Love With My Best Friend’s Sister (Christen Press x Reader)

Anonymous Request: omg yesss ur requests are open!!! could u write a Christen x Morgan!reader one where christen is Alex’s rly good friend but falls for her younger sister? yay I rly enjoy ur writing :)

I REALLY appreciate everyone’s kindness, this will be the only fic I post today, but the plan is to get back to three next Friday. <3

Alex lets out a squeal as she wraps her arms tightly around you, the two of you burying yourselves in one another's embrace.

"I can't believe you're here." Alex grins against your neck and you scoff.

"Oh, so YOU'RE the only Morgan who can get called to the USWNT camp." You roll your eyes playfully, the forward pulling you into a headlock, digging her knuckles into your head.

"Shut it short stack."

You growl, wiggling out of her hold.

"I'm not THAT short."

Kelley makes her way towards you, the defender's eyes narrowing as she places a hand on the top of your head, comparing her height with yours, noting the fact that you're just a bit shorter than her.

"Yeah, you're short."

You scoff.

"You're biased!"

Meanwhile, Christen and Tobin have made their way towards the field, the green orbed forward grinning as she jogs towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"If it isn't my favorite Morgan." She rests her chin on your shoulder and you smirk, sticking your tongue out at Alex.

"You hear that? I'm her favorite Mor-

Alex pinches your nose, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

"Alex..." You whine, your voice altered in a way that makes her snort.

You grimace, pulling away from her, your eyes widening when you realize your body is flush with Christen's, the forward's cheeks flushing.

You clear your throat quickly shuffling away from Christen.

"S-Sorry..." You mumble, rubbing the back of your neck and Christen smiles.

"Don't worry about it." She winks, your cheeks flushing bright red.

Kelley gives you a nudge.

"Let's see what you've got little Morgan."

***

Apparently, you had a lot, because by the end of practice, you'd absolutely torn up the field, scoring a number of goals and assisting on another.

Alex pulls you into a sweaty hug, the woman again digging her knuckles into the top of your head.

"Are you trying to make me look bad?" Alex growls, the two of you ending up wrestling in the middle of the field, Alex laughing as you jump on her back.

Christen watches the two of you with a massive grin, the woman shaking her head.

"Some things never change, do they?" Tobin asks, Christen's head shaking back and forth.

"Nope."

Christen sees a brief flash of the two of you, both much younger than you are now, the two of you in the exact same position you are now, you hanging off Alex's back as the two of you laugh.

Christen had always had a soft spot for you, the older woman in all honesty crushing on you since you’d met.

Mind you, the two of you were fairly close in age, so it wasn't the age gap that kept her from making a move, it was the fact that you were her best friend's little sister, and Christen wasn't sure if that was a line she was willing to cross.

Christen's crush hadn't ebbed in any way, shape or form, the woman's crush growing more and more as the years went on, but AGAIN, she wasn't sure if that was a line she'd ever wanted to cross.

In that very moment you turn to her with a grin, the woman's heart skipping a beat.

Deep down, she wanted to cross that line, but she wouldn't lose Alex Morgan as a friend, no matter what, she wouldn't lose her and she wouldn't lose you.

***

You throw yourself into an empty bus seat with a lengthy yawn, Christen snickering as she sits behind you, Tobin at her side.

“What’s so funny?” You stick your tongue out at her, the woman giggling.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re tired?” She smirks, earning an eye roll.

“I’m not ALWAYS tired.”

Alex scoffs on her way by.

“Yes, you are.”

You growl, your eyes narrowed, you turn to Christen with a pout, the forward’s cheeks flushing, something Tobin immediately catches on to.

She gives her a nudge, the forward turning to her, brows knitted in confusion.

“Be careful, your crush is showing.”

Christen’s cheeks flush bright red, the woman’s mouth opening and closing a few times before she glances away.

“You okay Chrissy?” You ask, worriedly and Christen smiles at you using the nickname you’d given her years ago.

“I’m okay.”

You nod, turning away, but you can’t help but sneak another glance at the forward out of the corner of your eye, your heart skipping a beat at the way she giggles at something Tobin had said.

Suddenly, something zooms across the bus, hitting you right in the forehead.

You growl, eyes narrowed as you search for the source, finding a beaming Alex Morgan staring your way.

“Bitch.” You mouth, the woman gasping.

“How rude.”

You stick your tongue out at her, catching Christen’s green orbs on you out of the corner of your eye, a grin stretched across her face.

You sigh.

“Ugh I’m screwed.”

***

Being at camp meant spending more and more time with Christen, meaning your childhood crush on her grew more and more.

Christen Press had always been beautiful, as the years past, she only got more and more beautiful, your childhood crush spiraling into something new.

Alex was unaware of your feelings for the woman, how could you tell your older sister that you were crushing on her best friend?

You knew if you told her she’d tease you to hell and back, so in a way, Christen Press was untouchable, and untouchable meant that she’d always be out of your reach.

Every time you saw that smile, and those sparkling green orbs would lock with yours, you would absolutely swoon.

You wanted her, you wanted her in a way you knew you’d never have her, you wouldn’t cross that line, you wouldn’t do that to Alex, you knew it would bother her, and you weren’t about to do that to her.

Still, the crush on Christen was gaining traction and soon, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold your feelings back for much longer.

***

Camp had literally been kicking your ass, you wanted to stand out, you wanted to earn a spot on the team, NOT just because you were Alex Morgan’s little sister.

You so tired in fact, that on team bonding movie night, you simply laid face down in bed, your teammates having to sit around your tired form.

“Hey, scoot over.” You feel a poke in your back and groan, your face still buried in your pillow.

You let out a grunt when you’re rolled over, your bottom lip jutting out as you look up into a pair of familiar green orbs.

“Chrissssssssssssssss.” You whine as the woman scoots you over, flopping down on the bed beside you, along with Tobin.

You grimace, rolling back over, one arm and one leg hanging off the bed.

Christen rolls her eyes.

“Come here.”

Your eyes widen when you realize Christen has her arms open, your heart racing in your chest, your stomach flip flopping.

Christen surprises you by pulling you into her arms, the woman’s cheeks blood red as you lean against her, letting out a relaxed sigh, the feeling of her arms wrapped around you bringing you a sense of comfort you never thought you could feel, your skin absolutely buzzing.

Christen’s heart stutters in her chest as you snuggle into her side, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“You’ve been working yourself too hard.” She chastises and you huff.

“I have to make the team...” You mumble. “Not just because I’m Alex’s little sister.”

Christen brushes a strand of hair out of your face and you smile, the two of you completely unaware that you have an audience, a certain forward looking at you with intrigue.

“You can’t run yourself into the ground.” She whispers and you sigh.

“I know...”

There’s a beat of silence, Christen’s lips parting to continue your conversation, but she quickly realizes you’re fast asleep.

She shakes her head, hugging you tighter.

“Someone looks comfy.”

Christen’s green orbs widen, her cheeks flushing when she sees Alex’s blue orbs on the two of you, the woman’s eyes narrowed.

“She’s being too hard on herself.” She shrugs, Alex nodding, the corners of her mouth drooping downwards.

“She wants to make the team based on skill, not her last name, but she can’t run herself into the ground...” Alex brushes her fingertips down your jawline and you grumble in your sleep, snuggling closer to Christen, the forward biting her bottom lip to hold back a massive grin.

Alex’s blue orbs dart from you, to Christen and back, the wheels in her brain turning. She shakes her head.

She didn’t see what she thought she was seeing...

Right?

***

Making the USWNT was a dream, a dream that had just become a reality, and it wasn’t just because your last name was Morgan.

The first to get to you, of course, was Alex, but right on her heels was Christen, the woman wrapping her arms tightly around you after Alex had nearly squeezed you to death.

Christen turns her head, kissing your cheek.

“I am so proud of you Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, your cheeks flushing as you bury your face in her neck.

It’s entirely an accident when Christen shifts, your lips brushing her neck, the forward inhaling sharply.

The two of you abruptly jump apart, your and Christen’s eyes wide as you glance away from one another, cheeks blood red.

“Uhhh, s-sorry.”

Alex hums, eyes narrowing.

Something was going on between the two of you, and she was going to find out what.

***

“Have Y/N and Christen been acting... Strange?” Alex asks Kelley, the defender’s brows furrowing.

“No stranger than usual.” She snorts, glancing down the breakfast table, catching your gaze on Christen, the woman giggling at something Tobin had said, when the forward turns towards you, you turn away, your cheeks flushed bright red.

Kelley hums, glancing at Christen, noticing the fact that her cheeks are tinted red. She turns back to Alex, the two sharing a glance.

“Maybe stranger than usual.”

Alex nods.

“So, will you help me?”

Kelley’s brows furrow.

“Help you what?”

“Shadow them?”

Kelley snorts.

“You mean spying?”

Alex groans.

“Yes, I mean spying.”

Kelley shrugs.

“I’m in.”

***

“Al, we’ve been following them around all week, eavesdropping on them at practice, when we go out to dinner, even at the bookstore, I do NOT do dusty bookstores JAN, YOU KNOW I HAVE ALLERGIES.” Kelley growls, Alex flopping her hand at her in an attempt to silence her.

The two watch you stealthily from a nearby aisle, Alex humming when she sees your fingers brush, the two of you glancing at one another, eyes wide and cheeks flushed before you both turn away from one another.

Alex’s blue orbs narrow.

“Did you see that...?” She whispers, growling when she doesn’t get a response.

Alex’s mouth drops when she sees Kelley modeling a ugly brown Bud Light hat in a nearby mirror.

“Jan, how do I look?” She turns towards her, the forward glancing at you and Christen before she makes her way towards Kelley.

“Yeah, that’s not your color.”

Though her eyes are no longer on the two of you, the wheels in Alex’s brain keep turning, trying to think of reasons why the two of you are acting so strange.

***

You make your way to the roof with a frown, the rain lightly falling as you make your way to the edge of the roof, taking a seat, your legs dangling off the edge, at least one of the edges considering there was a tiny overhang beneath your feet.

Fans had been particularly cruel as of late, many saying that the only reason you were on the USWNT was because of your last name.

You knew fans would talk, you knew they’d say there were more deserving players, and in ways, they were right.

In your eyes, you hadn’t gotten onto the team simply because of your last name, but because of your skill.

You shake your head.

“Hey.”

You turn around abruptly, making sure you don’t fall off the building in your haste to turn to the voice’s owner.

Christen slowly shuffles towards you, taking a seat beside you.

“What are you doing up here?” She asks, her legs dangling off the edge of the building and you shrug.

“Just needed some time to think.”

The two of you go silent, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean towards Christen, resting your head on her shoulder.

Christen stiffens, her cheeks flushing, heart skipping a beat in her chest.

“Everyone thinks I got here because my last name is Morgan...” You frown, eyes widening slightly when Christen slips an arm around you.

“Let them talk Y/N, they’re wrong.” Christen rests her head against yours.

“You don’t realize just how good you are Y/N, your place is on the USWNT, it’s with Alex...” Christen swallows hard, her heart racing in her chest.

“It’s with me.”

Your eyes widen as you pick your head up, turning to face Christen, the woman already turned towards you, her cheeks flushed.

Unconsciously, your eyes dart from her green orbs, to her lips and back.

It’s then you realize you were leaning in, as was Christen, your lips meeting in an electric, and earth-shattering kiss.

You’d been kissed before, yes, but kissing Christen Press was like coming home, it was like the first ray of sun poking out from behind a black rain cloud after a deadly storm, it was like being complete.

Christen cups your cheek, her lips moving gently against yours, the two of you parting only to lean back in, your lips meeting again.

Eventually, the two of you reluctantly part, your foreheads resting together as your eyes flutter open, locking, your lips splitting into massive grins.

“I’ve been wanting to do that, for a really... Really long time.” You whisper, Christen leaning in to bump her nose against yours.

“Me too.”

***

After the kiss shared between you and Christen on the rooftop that night, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood, but considering Christen had been stuck to you like glue, you imagine you stood shoulder to shoulder when it came to what the kiss meant for the two of you.

It wasn’t Christen’s reaction that scared you, it was Alex’s.

Alex Morgan and Christen Press had been friends for as long as you could remember, and you don’t know what kissing Christen would do to that friendship, in all honesty, you were terrified.

“Hey.”

You’re unable to bite back a smile when Christen makes her way towards you, a bashful smile on her face.

Inconspicuously, Christen leans against you, her fingers brushing yours.

You glance around, grabbing the forward’s arm and dragging her into a secluded employee’s only room in the hotel you were staying at.

Christen inhales sharply when you grab the front of her tee shirt and pull her into a kiss, the woman all too happy to reciprocate.

She brushes her nose playfully back and forth against yours, the two of you smiling softly.

“I’m scared about what Alex-

It’s with wide eyes that you realize the two of you aren’t alone, the piercing blue orbs of the aforementioned woman darting from Christen, to you and back.

“I-

Christen swallows hard.

“We can-

Alex shakes her head.

“I knew something was going on, but I guess I thought you’d trust me enough to tell me...” Alex frowns sadly, unable to look at you and Christen.

Alex shakes her head, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she turns on her heels, taking her leave.

“Al, wait!” You call out, chasing after her, unable to catch her as she sprints away, leaving you and Christen behind, the two of you turning to one another sadly, the two of you hoping that she’ll come around, but knowing you’d BOTH have to earn her trust back again.

***

Kelley gently runs a hand down Alex’s back.

“I mean, we knew something was going on...” Kelley sighs, Alex shaking her head.

“I just wish they had told me... I wish they had trusted me enough...” Alex mumbles, the defender nodding sympathetically.

A soft knock on the hotel room’s door makes both Alex and Kelley turn their attention to the closed door, the two sharing a glance.

“I think we both know who that is...” Kelley frowns. “Do you want me to answer it?”

You knock again.

“Come on Al, please.” You call out through the door, the forward sighing.

“Let her in.”

Kelley pats her back.

“Just, hear her out.”

Alex nods, the defender making her way to the door, tugging it open, frowning when she sees your Y/E/C orbs are bloodshot and full of tears.

Kelley throws her arms around you, giving you a squeeze.

“Let her know you trust her, she loves you, and she loves Chris.” She whispers in your ear, kissing your temple before she takes her leave, leaving you and Alex alone.

Uncertainly, you make your way towards the bed, Y/E/C orbs locking with Alex’s blue orbs.

She pats the bed beside her.

“Come on, sit down.”

You wordlessly sit down, sure not to leave a gap between you, your arm pressed against hers, the two of you remaining silent.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex asks softly, unable to look you in the eye.

You slip off the bed, sitting on the carpet in front of her.

“I was scared...” You frown, taking Alex’s hands. “I didn’t know what was happening between Christen and I, I didn’t want you losing your best friend and I didn’t want to lose my sister.”

Alex squeezes your hands.

“You could NEVER lose me. Never.” She pulls you close, spreading her legs as you wrap your arms around her middle, your head resting against her chest.

“I love you more than anything Y/N, there’s nothing you could ever do to lose me...” She ducks down, kissing the top of your head.

The two of you remain silent, that is until Alex snorts.

“So, you and Chris huh?” She asks, watching as your cheeks flush bright red.

“Allllllllll...” You whine, the forward shrugging.

“What? You can’t date my best friend and expect me not to say anything.” She sticks her tongue out at you and your eyes widen.

“W-We’re not dating...” You fidget, your sister scoffing.

“Well, I don’t kiss MY friends.”

You huff.

“I don’t know where we stand...” You shrug. “I really, really like her, I always have...” You murmur, unable to keep your cheeks from flushing bright red.

Alex hums thoughtfully.

“Maybe you need to talk about it?”

You swallow hard, nodding.

“What if she doesn’t want to be with me?” You frown sadly.

“Then I’ll literally murder her for leading you on.”

You give her a nudge.

“No killing Chris.”

“If she hurts you I will!”

You grin, wrapping your arms tightly around the forward.

“I love you Al.”

“I love you too.”

***

The second green orbs lock with blue your eyes widen.

“Uh-oh.” You mumble, watching as Alex makes her way towards Christen, the forward swallowing hard.

You watch, nervously as Alex, even though her and Christen are the same size, towers over her.

You quickly realize everyone is watching the exchange between the two, it’s then you understand that they must ALL know about what’s going on between you and Christen, the women eagerly waiting to see the eventually confrontation between your older sister and Christen.

Alex takes a deep breath.

“I know we’re best friends, but if you hurt Y/N, I won’t hesitate to literally kill you.” Alex says rather coldly, watching as Christen’s eyes widen.

“You...” She pauses, swallowing hard. “You’re not mad that we’re...” Christen glances your way, her cheeks flushing.

“We’re-

“Dating?” Alex fills in the blank, watching as Christen shuffles nervously from foot to foot.

“I don’t know where we stand...”

Alex huffs dramatically.

“You two REALLY need to talk.” She rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I really, really like her.” Christen shrugs. “I just don’t know where we stand.”

Alex nods in your direction, Christen’s cheeks flushing deep red when she realizes you’re staring at the two of them.

“You’ll never know unless you ask.” Alex shrugs. “Remember even though I love you, I’ll kill you if you hurt her.”

Christen nods, grinning as Alex wraps her arms tightly around her.

“I wouldn’t expect ANYTHING less.”

The two eventually part, Christen giving her best friend a nod before she jogs your way.

You swallow hard as the woman comes to a halt in front of you.

“Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow night? Dinner?” Christen asks boldly and your eyes widen, your lips splitting into a grin.

Over Christen’s shoulder you see Alex smirking your way, the woman, along with the rest of your teammates giving you a thumbs up.

Your tongue swipes at your dry lips, the pink flesh of your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“I’d love to.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #christen press x reader #christen press imagine

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

Note

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing— it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

#a fluffy premise AND ian being obsessed with mickey’s neck??#what more could u want #*blows kiss to elias and stella* for u #also yes i did have a word document on my computer titled ‘neck fic’#what about it #ty for the prompt anon this was truly an experience to write #ily<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless imagine #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm #gallavich fanfiction #cw choking

174 notes · View notes

audreyimagines · 4 years ago

Note

soulmate au where u can only hear the thoughts of yr soulmate at specific times at night and ur just lyin there awake thinkin “worm on a string victorian style corset and dress” whilst ur soulmate who’s doin whatever is like “...😎🤏😐🕶🤏...WhAt?-“ nd then u actually do it and post it on twitter without really knowing about mcyts and atuff and mcytwt gets it trending and the mcyt of ur choice finds it and then you can decide what happens, any pronouns are cool fhshdhs anyways have a good day :D

BAHHA IM IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA THANK YOU !!! have a great day mwah

worm on a string.

pairing - irl dream x gn! reader

word count - 514

two am? again? you groan and flip over onto your other side in an attempt to fall asleep. the insomnia this week has been horrible, and even watching your favorite streamers hasn’t helped. you reluctantly shut down dream and george’s stream in an attempt to get your brain to chill out, and just close your eyes. but alas, without the racing speech and wheeze of dream in the back, your brain starts to drift into random thoughts and ideas. it ranges from netflix shows to murder, and all of sudden your brain is stuck on the mental image of a worm on a string, in a victorian corset and dress. it will not leave, no matter what you think about, no matter what stream you put on. it’s just there, in the corner, nagging. not even in a soulmate way, but in a your-brain-being-dumb-way.

in a last ditch attempt to sleep you drag your phone out from under the pillow and open twitter, grumbling at the bright screen. your fingers somehow manage to cohesively spell out, “who’s going to help me make a worm on a string in a victorian style corset and dress” and post it to your 1k followers you’ve somehow amassed. finally, sleep crashes over you, and you pass out, phone in hand.

contrary to most days, it isn’t the sun that wakes you up. instead, the steady pinging of your phone does.

“too..early,” you mumble, hand rubbing across your face. once your eyes focus, you unlock your phone to find twitter BLOWING UP. now you really are awake, shooting up straight in bed to pour over the notifications shooting across your phone at record speed. you find the tweet that blew up, and it’s the stupid worm on a string one.

“why the fuck...” you say to yourself quietly while continuing to scroll through the 5,000 comments, before a common factor catches your eye. half of the comments are tagging @dream or mentioning his name. your fingers are flying faster than your brain is as you check his main twitter. nothing. quickly to the alt and there you find...oh my god.

“wondering why my soulmate is insisting on thinking about worms on strings in victorian dresses right now. trying to stream.” he tweeted, three minutes after you turned off his stream.

“holy, SHIT!” your morning voice cracks as you stare at the phone, and notice he’s replied to your tweet with a simple two words, “check dms”

and your fingers are off again, flying to the message tab when you stop. there’s his icon, with two missed texts.

“hey um. i’m not sure what’s going on but maybe we should talk.”

“maybe you’re asleep? but when you do wake up, add my discord okay?”

the link sits below his texts, waiting. your eyes bore it, and then you...click it. you add him and wait, pacing around your room. what only takes one minute feels like an eternity, and all of sudden his icon is ringing you on the screen.

“hello? y/n? it’s uh...it’s dream.”

“hi.”

and just like that...it clicks.

#dream smp #dream x reader #dream fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #dreamwastaken

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years ago

Text

i've heard allegations 'bout your reputation, i'll show you my shadows if you show yours

summary: requested (like a year ago, sorry!) Reader and Andy getting in a legitimate fight or maybe flirting in front of him with one of his colleagues to get under his skin because he hasn’t touched her in weeks from being so busy jealous Andy would be so dominant I’m weak i took some liberties and set it at the christmas eve party at andy’s office.

warnings: andrew barber being r o u g h 😩 😩 😩 and jealous 😩 and mean bc i just so deeply want this man to yell at me and pull my hair bc he’s an angry daddy, however, he is not called daddy in this story bc i don’t do it unless you guys ask me to. so smut, and he’s in charge and i’m dead about it. more videos being made bc apparently that’s on my mind.

word count: around 7,500

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: i hate that it took me so long to post this but here i am, almost a month late with a christmas eve party story. i have very little shame tbh.

You were not unreasonable, no matter what Andy claimed. You could always admit what was your fault—which was about 80% of all disagreements—but Andy had his faults, too. Tonight? Well, you weren’t innocent…but you were not the only one to blame.

This was the third Christmas party he had taken you to. The first year had not completely been his doing. Lynn had been bothering him about it and he would have gotten away with pretending it just wasn’t possible had Lynn not run into you at the coffee shop near Andy’s house.

You had been accustomed to Andy by then. He didn’t put distance between you two because he wanted to, he just simply wasn’t the best at getting close. You practically forced him into sometimes, and it had never gone wrong, so he trusted you. A lot.

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to say that much longer. You had your moments, those situations where you pushed him just a little too far. Not so far that he was angry about it, but far enough that you ended up with a sore ass and maybe a few finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

As if that was an incentive to stop?

Lately, things had been…off. Andy was working on a big case, one that he had just finished the day before. You expected that he was going to come home and make up for not having touched you in 17 days. Yet, that didn’t happen.

You weren’t trying to complain too much. The “honeymoon phase” was something that could not be applied to your relationship because you were as happy as any other day, you loved him more and more as time went on, and you guys always had sex. Always.

But there were the cases that sometimes threw a slight pause in that. That was fine, you understood and it wasn’t like you were with Andy for sex. You loved that man so fucking much, you could deal with some neglect for a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

17 days with no immediate plans to remedy it was crossing a line. So, on the 18th night, the night of his office Christmas party, after he merely kissed your head, told you that you looked beautiful, and didn’t fuck you in your tiny, sparkly dress, you also wanted to cross a line. A specific line because it was hard to get a reaction out of him any other way.

Andrew Barber was a jealous man. It was something you never played with because he was jealous. He wasn’t some immature idiot who was going to cause a scene, but he would interrogate you about people he felt were “suspicious”.

On your way to the party, he had wanted to catch up. He felt like this was the first time he was able to breathe since he was put on the case, and he had noticed some distance between you two. You told him about the very basic parts of your day—work, friends, family.

When he placed his hand on your thigh, you had to wonder if this was a game. Why hadn’t he fucked you? Was he trying to make you beg? That was something Andy thoroughly enjoyed, and you trusted him so much that you rarely ever knew when he was doing it. If you stopped to think about it, you would probably find a few times he’d managed to get away with it.

He let you hold his hand and to avoid having to pull away from you, he told you when to move the gear shift. It was cute, too cute for how long you two had been together, but Andy seemed willing to indulge you. He always did when he could.

But as soon as he got to the party, there was more work talk and he had basically pawned you off on Lynn. She was thrilled, of course, she rarely had time for friendships, but she valued Andy, and because of that, she loved you almost as much as he did.

It had been two hours by the time you were completely fed up. Lynn had decided she was about to head out, so she was making her rounds, and that meant that you were stuck with the other partners. Men, women, they were all talking about how great their lawyers had been lately.

Yet, reminder, you hadn’t been fucked in nearly 18 days. You weren’t going to sit around and listen to that for the whole night, you innocently decided to wander a bit. Andy was talking about his case and seemed almost oblivious to your presence. Why did he even bring you? He was the one that reminded you about it, you probably wouldn’t have realized it had gone by until well into next year since work was so hectic.

Regardless, without an answer, you were left to entertain yourself. What else were you supposed to do? Just sit around all night and not speak to anyone? Andy was a complicated man and he had only a handful of people at the job that he liked, but fewer people that he disliked. Most people, he felt indifferent about, and those were the pawns for your current game.

You flit all around the party, laughing, talking to everyone, and though you saw him seeking out your whereabouts every now and then, there was no reaction at all. He didn’t care that some of these sleazy men were staring at your cleavage or your legs—two things he should have done earlier but did not.

By the time you’d nearly spoken to everyone, you felt…possessed, there was no better way to describe it. You were mad and confused and tired, and till the day you died, you would swear on everything you held sacred, the following was not part of your plan. You simply had no other choice than to go along with it when it practically fell in your lap.

Andy hadn’t noticed your best attempts but as soon as Neal was standing in front of you, he was watching. You had not and would not have gone to Neal, it was the other way around. He was possibly picking up on all your sadness and desperation, he was probably able to spot attention-seeking from a mile away since he pulled those kinds of stunts regularly.

Andy was finally paying attention to you and that was why you didn’t walk away. Your boyfriend could deny it all he wanted, but you saw something in his eyes. There was that anger, of course, but there was also that dark gleam. The one that he had when he liked to lay you out under him and remind you who you belong to.

That was all you wanted, that was the only reasoning behind your actions. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, not until you laughed at something Neal said and he laughed back, and then he touched your shoulder.

And that was when you knew things had gone too far. You crossed a line, and you should have known better than even trying to use Neal. Because he envied Andy to no end, understandably. Why wouldn’t he try to flirt with you? No one got Andy as angry as Neal, and you should have just put your ego aside and spoken to your boyfriend.

But that window had closed and your time for being a mature, communicating adult was over. You quickly broke away from Neal after that and Andy took only seconds before he was dragging your ass out of that party and to the car.

You weren’t sure what to do. Pretend you didn’t know what the big deal was? Maybe just start blurting out apologies. He opened the car door for you, ushered you in, and then got into the driver’s seat in complete silence.

Andy had been mad at you before, but he had never been so angry he wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw set, brow furrowed, shoulders tense—he stayed that way the entire drive.

Andy wasn’t like this, he usually always had his temper in control. You were worried because you were one of the few people Andy sincerely trusted. It would devastate you if this gave him pause.

When he stopped the car, it became uncomfortably silent. It had taken you almost a minute to decide where you wanted to take this. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I am s—”

“Get upstairs, take your dress off, and wait for me on the bed.”

Shit. You fumbled with the handle for a moment, scurrying inside and up the stairs. This was everything that you had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why the fuck were you nervous? Why were you shaking? Why did the idea of a black hole appearing and swallowing you sound so appealing?

You took off your dress and hung it back in your closet. You’d only been in it for a few hours, that didn’t warrant an actual wash. Shakily, you made your way back to the bed and sat there. What about your bra and panties? He hadn’t said. Your shoes? Fuck, what were you supposed to do?

Andy walked in and flipped on the light.

Idiot, why hadn’t you done that?

He made his way to the dresser off to the side of the bedroom, he removed his jacket first, then his cuff links and his tie. He started rolling up his sleeves and you had to look away.

You turned down to your lap. “You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to keep anything else on.”

“I also didn’t tell you that you could speak,” he asserted.

Your stomach dropped, the mere thought of not following his directions was unsettling. When Andy got like this, you wanted to do what he told you to. You wanted him to think you were his good girl. Any time you failed at absolute perfection, you didn’t take it well.

You didn’t know if you should apologize or remain silent. You were wringing your hands, something you became aware of only when he made his way in front of you and placed his hands over yours. You startled slightly, looking up at him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your head tilted back. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You didn’t want him to feel bad because you were feeling some type of way. You also didn’t want to think this had anything to do with him. He’d never given you reason to be nervous.

“Are you scared?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He leaned down, face directly in front of yours. “Before we start, I need you to understand that you’ve never disappointed me. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” That didn’t really help as much as he probably thought it would. Even if you hadn’t disappointed him, there was always the chance that you would. And you weren’t sure he was being completely honest anyway. Neal? What the fuck was wrong with you?

“You don’t need to be nervous or scared, just be completely honest with me.”

“Of course.” You would never lie to him.

“Who do you belong to?”

Your answer was immediate, you didn’t even need to think about it. Recalling life before you met Andy was a bit blurry. Who had you been? Where? What had you wanted? “You.”

“So,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “this mouth…”

“Is yours,” you confirmed.

He hummed, fingers trailing from your face all the way down, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. He paused, noting the shakiness in your breath, the goosebumps on your skin, your hands that were gripping the sheets.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to where you had been expecting it to. Your breath hitched and your hips jumped off the bed, desperate for his touch.

He made a small noise of disapproval and you hurriedly settled back down on the bed. “This pussy? Is that mine, too?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He pulled your panties off to the side and his fingers ran up your wet skin at an agonizing pace. He brought them up to his lips and his tongue slipped out to taste you. He smiled because you had managed to stay almost completely still, apart from a bit of squirming. “You’re such a good girl, baby. You know that’s one of my favorite things about you, how good you are for me.”

That gave you these awful butterflies and you felt hot everywhere. That was all you ever needed to hear. His hand returned to your center and his first finger slid into you. You looked down to see but he grabbed your jaw again and turned you back up.

“Keep watching me, baby.”

He liked to test you, you knew that. He would give you an order and try to make you disobey him. This time, when his hand fell away from your face, you forced yourself to keep your head tilted. You ignored that burning part of you that wanted to see his fingers pushing in and pulling out, covered in what was dripping from your pussy.

You focused on just feeling. One thick finger was slowly working you open for him, he always stretched you out as much as he could meaning you had to be prepared for some teasing. He prioritized this because he was big and he knew it—and you had been smitten enough before he fucked you, but after, there wasn’t a second of the day your body didn’t crave Andy’s.

Despite how rough Andy could be with you, and how generally tough he was, he liked to baby you. Sometimes, he liked treating you as delicately as one would a bouquet of flowers. He could see a lot of comparisons if he really thought about it. You were beautiful, soft, and smelled so sweet. And if he didn’t pay attention to you, well, he’d been reminded of those consequences at the party.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You didn’t falter when he added his second finger, nor when he curled his fingers against that spot inside you, nor when his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit.

He pressed one hand down on your shoulder, a cue to lie back. After you had obliged, he pulled his fingers out of you and told you to open your mouth. You instantly did so, closing around his fingers as soon as they were in your reach.

He pressed his fingers down and kept going until your body jerked and the noise of you gagging echoed in the room. “I wanna see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, baby girl.”

You eagerly sat up, still sucking on his fingers as you pulled his belt apart, yanked the button of his pants open, and tore down the zipper. Glancing up at him to look for any signs that you didn’t have his permission to proceed, you pushed his pants and boxers down cautiously until his cock was out.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

You moved back on the bed and situated yourself onto your stomach, propping up on your elbows. One hand wrapped around his hard length and you let the tip of your tongue come out to catch the precum dripping from his tip.

He released a shaky breath, hands at his sides because he wanted you running the show. For a while, a least. He didn’t want to guide you, he wanted to see how exactly you were going to make up for your slight misstep at the party.

You ran your tongue up his shaft lightly, feigning that whole soft act that you knew he loved. It wasn’t so much an act, but you had been bent over his desk, hair pulled, ass spanked, both holes thoroughly used. But you liked soft, too. You liked slow and gentle mornings, whispered words, careful touching. You liked whatever he wanted to give you.

You closed your lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. Unlike all other men you had been with, Andy was as patient as a saint. He loved when you teased him. Once, he had you edge him with your mouth for nearly an hour and thinking about how he fucked you after still made your toes curl.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “Fuck, baby.” His hand lightly settled on the back of your head. “So good, I could fuck your mouth for the rest of my life.” He didn’t push you down, he just ran his hand through your hair over and over because he knew how much you liked him to play with your hair.

But then his hold tightened and he pulled you off, much to your dismay. He noted your pout and pleading eyes but was kind enough not to taunt you about them. “Get on your back, sweetheart.”

You knew what he wanted as soon as he stepped away. You quickly climbed up toward the edge of the bed and rolled over, bending your neck over the mattress. You automatically opened your mouth for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders first.

“Relax.” He leaned over and ran his hands along your arms, setting them on the mattress. He pressed your thighs down, waiting until you had lost all the tension in your body. He curled his hand around his length and stroked several times with a loose hand and a slow pace.

You watched in utter fascination. It never failed to get you wet when Andy showed so much control, over himself, over you. He was in charge of every little thing and you could tell that he got off on that. Every time he reached the head of his cock, he would press down so slightly, so close to your lips but just not enough.

“Andy,” you whispered. “Please.”

He smirked again. “Open your mouth for me.” And as soon as you did, he was slowly sliding in. He was slow at first, keeping his hips still as he slipped the straps of your bralette past your shoulders. He rolled the remaining material down until your breasts were exposed and squeezed them in his hands.

You pressed your thighs together, arching up into his hands more. You tried to relax your throat for him, knowing he was only stopping to give you a moment to prepare.

He pinched your nipples painfully and didn’t stop until you whined. He loved feeling you make that sound when his cock was down your throat, and the deep breaths as the pain faded away. Again, he tortured your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, yanked a little, until you were squirming all around the bed, making these noises around him that he rarely ever heard, your eyes filled with tears.

He leaned over quickly, releasing your breasts so he could give them both a brief kiss. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction. He took his time sinking his teeth into your sore, erect nipples and you squealed both times, back arching again. His tongue rolled over your stinging skin and you tilted your head eagerly, attempting to take more of him.

Sometimes, it was enough to get him naturally high, how much power he had over you, your body. He could hurt you and you would thank him; he could turn around and give you just a second of gentleness and you looked at him like you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved him. You claimed that, quite often. Andy wasn’t sure if he believed that, not because he didn’t trust you but because he wasn’t wired to think of himself as special in any way. Why you treated him like he was, was confusing to him at times.

But you were special, so fucking special. You were smart and funny, and so kind to every single person you encountered. It was a nice change from the environment he regularly found himself in. That was what you were supposed to be—a breath of fresh air from his hard life. You were not supposed to become his only source of oxygen, yet there he was. It didn’t seem he was reliant on you because Andy wasn’t comfortable expressing reliance on anyone, but he knew he was.

He stood and watched your body move with those deep, sharp breaths you were taking. Abruptly, his hand whipped across one breast, then the other. You cried out, a nice vibration around him, and now you were quivering. It was so easy for him to play your body like this because you were just needy enough that anything would have given you pleasure. Another thing he knew, another thing that made him so damn cocky.

“Open your legs,” he told you and you parted your thighs. Again, he pulled aside your lace panties and pushed two of his fingers inside you. Your cunt was dripping, your arousal gushing out as his fingers thrust in, curled, searched for that spot that made your eyes roll back. The noise of it made his cock twitch.

Your pussy was throbbing, yearning for the release that only this man could give you. You didn’t care how he did it, you just needed Andy. Hands, mouth, cock, you would take anything he wanted you to have.

“Listen to that greedy pussy,” he directed, voice low and quiet. “So desperate to be filled and fucked. But by who, baby?”

Your stomach twisted at not being able to answer him. That was why he asked when you had your mouth full of him, because if you could speak, you would blurt out reassurances that it was only him.

“Me?” he pressed.

You spoke, despite knowing it was going to sound like nonsense.

“And no one else?”

You were quick with your denial. And maybe, by now, since his cock was always in your mouth, he was a professional at understanding what you were saying. Or possibly, it was just the look in your eyes.

“You sure, baby?”

Once more, your voice came out muffled but hurried, almost panicked. He had to know that you didn’t even think about anyone else. He had to know that you thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

He dragged his free hand up your body and it settled over your neck. Finally, he pulled out from your mouth only to thrust back in harshly. You choked, your throat contracting around him while he massaged his thumb and finger over your pulse points. He let you breathe through it before he started rocking his hips ever so slightly. You could feel him moving along your tongue and your cheeks, but they were small motions.

You always loved this position; it was easier to take all of him. It was easier to breathe on your back with your chest open, and, unlike being on your knees, it left you open for him.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand off to the side of the bed while the other reached between your legs. His fingers danced along your skin without any real intent, but occasionally, he would touch your clit.

You were reaching for any part of him you could touch. Your hands mindlessly grasped at his back and kept slipping off because of his shirt. You couldn’t ask but you wanted it off. He felt your hands working open his buttons and decided to let you have something. He was going to take and take tonight, he could give you a little.

He stood up and loosened his tie enough to pull it off, then shrugged his shirt off. Once again, his palm settled to your neck. “You should see yourself right now. Shaking, wet, such a good girl.”

You reached up, gripping one hand in his pants, the other around the buckle of his belt and you pulled him in more until your throat was struggling.

“Easy, baby.” He took your hands off him, keeping a hold of one and placing the next back down on the bed. He pulled out carefully, dragging his hand up, and inch by inch, pushed back in. “You should see how deep I’m getting. I can see it right here.” The palm of his hand hovered over your skin, just enough that you could feel him, and he followed his cock again, letting you know how much of him you were taking.

It was a lot of him, not enough. And he was deep, but you needed more. You whined, a plea for him to move this along. He couldn’t want to drag this out, not after almost 18 days.

Again, he leaned over until he could touch you. His hips moved steadily, a controlled move that matched how strategically he was working your cunt, everywhere but the most sensitive part of you.

You hated that you couldn’t beg, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if you weren’t shaking or if your cunt wasn’t clenching desperately, you knew if he couldn’t feel it, he could at least see it. This went on for several moments, he was proud of how well you were taking him, and wanted to give you some type of award.

You were more than just caught off guard when you felt his lips against one of your thighs. Fuck. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t last long. But he went on, scattering kisses over your thighs, fucking your mouth just a fraction harder as he grew closer to your pussy.

As he licked down from your clit to your entrance, your eyes rolled back. Your hips jumped off the bed and one of his hands held you down in response. You were trembling, whining utter nonsense.

Several times, his tongue ran through you and you’d been so worked up, so wet and frustrated since he’d pulled you out of the party, since he hadn’t fucked you in a while, and this was just happening too fast. You wanted to focus on him, you wanted to apologize in the best way you knew how.

You tried to push him back with your hands on his thighs, but you were nowhere near strong enough.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh again. His hips stilled, most of his cock out of your mouth just in case. “Do you need a moment, baby?”

You debated. If you actually made him stop, made him pull out even if just for a second solely so you could ask him not to make you come...he would be outraged. He might even turn you over and spank you. But he also might not let you come at all. You would die, you knew you would.

You let your hands fall away.

“You okay?”

You hummed slowly, comfortably.

Still, one hand settled on your hip bone to keep you from moving, the other you felt on the back of your thigh close to your ass. He kissed your pussy slowly, sucking at your skin just a little, but not your clit, not yet.

He was careful as he began fucking your mouth again, worried he had pushed you too far. He waited until he was sure you were okay before he sucked your clit between his lips and slipped two fingers into you.

You whined around him as your body shuddered.

He kissed you again, several times to get you to calm down. “It’s okay, baby girl. Be a good girl for me.”

So, you understood, he realized that you wanted to object to this, but Andy was the greediest man you had ever had in bed. You weren’t surprised that he just didn’t care. You found it hard to mind as he began fucking his fingers in and out of you, sloppy, wet noises echoing around the room.

He was sucking again and you were desperately clutching at any part of him you could, his sides, his legs. You weren’t pushing him away now, you were pulling him in.

You were so close, your body arching up as much as it could. You felt tension building in every part of your body. Your own hands came up to your breasts mostly because you knew he would feel your hands moving underneath him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He left your cunt neglected of his mouth for several moments, only using his fingers, as his cock drove down your throat hard.

You were choking loudly, your body again moving wildly as you gagged. It couldn’t have been more than a few times but they were determined thrusts, you were sure he was going to come in your mouth.

Instead, he pulled out completely and you whined shortly. You didn’t want him to go, but you couldn’t say that. All you could do was try to catch your breath. He didn’t even give you a moment to protest before his face was buried in your cunt.

In seconds, you were a mewling, moaning mess for him. Your body was so tight, so full of unbearable tension. You were shaking, sweating, your pussy was loud and soaking wet and you knew you were dripping everywhere, on him, on the bed.

He didn’t tease, he wanted to let you come because he wanted you coming all night. His favorite form of punishment was too much of a good thing, not withholding how much he enjoyed touching you.

You finished with a scream loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Again.

Andy touched you through it until you stopped moving, save for the shaking aftershocks when he got a tad too close to your clit. When you were loose and sated on the bed, he started to sit you up.

You quickly turned to him, grasping his face. “I love you, only you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I would never look at anyone else.”

“I believe you.” Even if he didn’t, this was not the place to voice that. This...state he got you in when he was this dominant, this demanding, was not completely unlike you. It was just a very obedient, sensitive version of you that he knew he had to be careful with. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

He touched your face and that was when you realized you were crying, he was wiping away your tears. It was either from your finish or from choking on him, you weren’t completely sure. “You’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and you felt hot. As if what you two were just doing wasn’t filthy, this was what made your heart beat faster and gave you those butterflies in your stomach.

He pulled back and kept hold of your face. “What does my baby girl want?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

As his lips met yours, he began removing all the remaining clothing on either of your bodies. He moved you up the bed until he could lay your head on a pillow and then positioned himself over you.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep saying it.”

As he carefully pushed into you, you continued to tell him you love him. You stared at him the whole time, willing your body to relax for him. He didn’t like it when you got so worked up, especially over the games he played in the bedroom. The thing with Neal was bad but it was over and you knew he wasn’t mad at you. He wouldn’t fuck you like this if he was.

You clutched onto his shoulders, trying to hold him as close to you as you possibly could. He was the one that grabbed your legs and cued you to wrap them around his body. His cock sliding into your pussy was a feeling you couldn’t understand why he’d left you deprived of.

Once his hips were settled against your thighs and he was completely buried inside you, you reached up to his face. You loved his cheekbones, you could trace them with your touch for days if he let you. And his beard, you loved feeling his beard under your fingertips.

He let you do this, explore him as if you could possibly forget anything after all the other times you did it. You remembered the first time he fucked you, you couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop touching—he was so painfully beautiful. He was so patient with you, always had been, and now, despite how badly you felt his need to move, to fuck you, he was going to wait for you to be ready.

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered.

“Did what?”

“You didn’t fuck me. For 17 days. You…wanted me to make a scene—”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

“I could take it to court and win,” you countered.

He smirked. “Could you? What’s my motive?”

“You like being possessive. You like dragging me out of places, you like bringing me home, you like reminding me who I belong to.”

“And were you reminded?”

“No one really belongs to anyone or anything at the end of the day—”

“No,” he interjected, tone sharp. You always liked that tone. “You belong to me.”

“Maybe…”

“You are mine,” he repeated. “And you’re going to say it or we’re going to have a long night.”

“I will say it if you admit this was your plan all along.”

“You think I wanted you to flirt with Neal?”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t—”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know, I didn’t mean to word it like that. I know you weren’t—”

You felt slightly like you were about to panic. Flirting with Neal? No. “Never, I would never—”

He shushed you. “I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t because you are a good girl. I promise I know that.”

You settled somewhat but that lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach was hard to ignore. Flirting with Neal? You couldn’t bear him thinking you would ever do that to him. Flirting in general with people Andy felt indifferent to was off the table unless you wanted to placate his desires. Certainly, he had to know that.

“I wanted to hear you beg,” he insisted. “That was what I wanted. I wanted honest begging because you are so fucking beautiful begging for my cock.”

You huffed. “Well, you should have asked.”

“I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“You could have given me a hint. I was going around your party trying to get your attention—”

“You had it, you always do. Now, tell me who you belong to.”

“I think we all belong to the stars.”

“No,” he sighed.

“Or the moon, people who experience menstruation especially. The moon controls us, it’s been studied by scientists. There are articles.”

“Scientific articles do not support that,” he asserted and you couldn’t help but laugh. Andy was exact. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or that couldn’t be proven. Even now, inside you, he couldn’t turn that part of his brain off.

“Baby,” he sighed as his hand came up to curl around your neck. It just rested there, a heavy reminder of all the times in the past he had held you like that, or those other times when he applied just the right amount of pressure. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you cry, I want you to be shaking after I’m done with you, I want to fill you up with my cum. Don’t you want that?”

You nodded, once again turned on beyond comprehension.

“Then be good and say what I want you to say. Don’t make me make you say it.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

“You don’t.”

Andy’s punishments were always so elaborate and such a blur. He knew how to reduce you to nothing but need, and you needed him so badly sometimes. He loved seeing you like that, but he didn’t always like taking you there. He knew how careful he needed to be during and after, so he reserved it for major misbehavior.

You brought one hand up and set it on his forearm. You could feel his skin and his muscles. “I belong to you.”

Just barely, as he stared at your face, his hold tightened. Your breath stuttered but you made sure not to get too worked up too soon. You didn’t want him to have to stop before he finished inside you.

“That can never happen again, baby.”

“I know. It never will. I’m so—”

He tightened his hand again. “Don’t say sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you say the one word you so badly needed to say.

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, I’m just saying…it can’t happen again.”

You caught the lead of his tone. “But what if it does?”

“I might have to make sure he knows that you’re mine.”

You wanted him to let the whole world know. You knew he saw your eyes light up because he smirked. “How would you do that?”

“I might have to let him see how I fuck you. I might have to show him how I can make you beg for me, or how willingly you bend over when I’m going to spank you. I might have to show him how wet you get after I mark up your ass, maybe how whiny you get when my hand is around your throat. But maybe I’ll just have to send him the video I’ve been recording tonight, how well you can suck my cock, how badly you want to.”

You were stunned for a moment—recording? Where was the camera? The idea of Andy recording you was such a turn on. You loved making videos for him, but you’d always wanted to see one where he was with you. “You’ve been recording?”

“Would you be okay with that if I was?”

“Yes. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He pulled his hips back once and then snapped up noisily, pulling a moan from your throat. “You know how much I love that sound? When you can hardly breathe but you still make all those noises you know I want to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss you, hips stilled, hand still wrapped around your neck. It was brief, a reward, a reminder. You were being good and he loved you, but he was going to fuck you.

You broke away, nodding to let him know you were ready, that you wanted this. “Please.”

He rolled over so you were on top of him. He kept his hold on your neck to keep you sitting up and used his opposite hand to grab your ass. After he kneaded your skin hard enough he knew it would bruise, he spanked you loudly, harshly. Your body jerk forward, taking him in deeper than you knew was possible.

You whined, trying to pull back a little. He gripped your ass again and held you there. It was painful but exciting, you wanted him to push your limits tonight. He so rarely did, concerned with pleasing you second and treating you delicate first.

He let you go only to spank your other ass cheek. Again, you moved forward and you felt fuller than you ever had. You ached between your legs, almost uncomfortably but the idea of having him this deep in your body was making you wetter by the second. You were dripping, you could see how wet his skin was, how much of a mess he was making of your pussy.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

You found a comfortable position, your hands on either side of his waist in the mattress. He settled his arm between your breasts so he could still see them moving as you began jerking your hips back and forth. They were sharp, abrupt movements because you wanted to come so bad, you could hardly think of anything else. Save for your disbelief over the fact that he was making you do this yourself. But you didn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was punishment for talking back.

He closed his hand more, every sound you made was short and strangled. You moved faster, knowing he was closer when he choked you harder. His free hand took one of your breasts. He was so delicate at first, a gentle, slow touch before he was pinching your nipple so hard you were whining. He smacked your breast and you shuddered, nearly falling forward onto him, but he kept you up. Mostly because he wanted to do it again to your other breast.

Every slap against your breasts—loud and stinging, always surprising because he didn’t want you to have the comfort of a pattern—was pushing you closer to your orgasm. You were mindlessly bouncing on his cock, uncaring of the pain you felt every time you came down just a little too hard for how big he was. You felt like an animal, like you were simply a victim to your body’s depraved, primal desires.

You finished first, screaming things you would be impressed if he actually understood. You could cry, the tension built over days was finally all gone.

He rolled over once more, taking his spot on top again.

You clung to him, legs and arms, pulling him in like you would die if he wasn’t close enough. You needed to feel his whole body against yours.

“Hear that, baby?”

Oh, you heard. You’d been trying to ignore it, but of course, not if Andy had any say in it.

“Hear how wet your pussy is?”

So wet. Every time he pulled out and pushed in, the noise would fill the room. You only nodded.

Since you were wrapped around him so tightly, it wasn’t difficult for him to grab your hip and move you up the bed with him. He set you against the headboard, the pillows under the small of your back, propping you up for him.

He was on his knees now for more leverage. You knew he was going to fuck you hard. “Look at this, baby.” He slowly pulled out and you turned down to watch. “See how messy you’re getting my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined.

He grabbed his cock, used it to drag up and down your cunt several times.

“Andy, please.”

He shushed you, a slow, calm action that contrasted when he smacked the head of his cock against your clit.

You gasped and your hips jerked forward.

“Stay still,” he warned.

He did it over and over, and enjoyed watching you fail at trying to stay seated on the bed. He thrust in completely, quick and hard, only to pull out and smack your clit again. This was his routine for what felt like an agonizing hour, but you knew it was nowhere near that long. You knew even he didn’t have that kind of patience.

You cried out when he finally buried himself inside you again. As he pushed forward, he pulled you down. His fingers found your clit and you were soon tumbling over that edge once more.

As he finished, he pulled you on top of him, lying back on the bed. One arm wrapped tight around your back to pin you against his chest, his opposite hand tangled in your hair tightly. He hid his face in the bend of your neck, grunting as his hips continued to rock just slightly.

He kept you there for several long moments until he had completely satisfied himself. You were intoxicated being this close to him. You angled your head as much as you could and kissed the side of his face.

He turned over, setting you on the bed as he pulled out. You watched him curiously, moving to sit up with him. He made a disapproving noise and you laid back again. Once again, he made his way to the dresser and grabbed his phone.

“You were seriously recording?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do I usually bluff?”

Nope, never.

“Now I have a reference if you ever forget how a good girl is supposed to act.”

You suppressed an eye roll.

“Open your legs.” He came closer, directing the camera at your pussy. He touched you, spreading his cum all over your skin, rubbing circles around your clit, just barely dipping his fingers into you.

You watched his face the whole time. You loved how much Andy loved you and when he stared at you after fucking you, it was hard to miss. He was obsessed with you and he never minded showing it.

For almost a month, you watched that video every day. You were fascinated by him, the way he moved, the way he touched you. After that, you started wanting to record more and Andy never minded.

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics

#andy barber x reader #my writing

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rainileo · 4 years ago

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have you seen hao’s selca ?? where he’s on the bed ?? ugh he keeps posting thirst traps and i cant stop thinking abt him and u having sex in the dorm where you have to stay quite bcs all of the boys are there and u guys eventually get caught </3

HES SO FINEE KHAUDUSJSJ

be quiet (m)

idol!minghao/the8 x (female reader)

warnings: public sex (?), dorm sex, quiet sex, minghao is sassy lol, not much else just sex w/ minghao

lmk if i miss anything (not proof read)

a/n: i literally almost peed when i saw those pics lmao he’s so hot ahhagejajdvs. i decided to make it so that he’s in school rn (like idfk art school or smthn trying to get a degree lol, but he’s still an idol). and sorry for taking so long to get something out lmao

10:33 pm

“are you done yet?” your was tone is riddled with annoyance. you slumped in irritation, starting to get restless. you were asking if minghao had completed his school work yet, as he has been working on it non stop since you had arrived a few hours prior.

at this point you were so bored. the time was slowly passing by, and you thought about leaving more than once, but decided against it as the two of you haven’t had much quality time together lately. the other boys managed to keep you busy in the meantime, but it was beginning to get late and they were getting ready for bed, or already were fast asleep.

minghao wasn’t even paying attention to you, busy with his work that has been piling up over weeks. usually, you attempted to keep him on track with assignments, occasionally helping him or reminding him, but sometimes his actual job can get in the way and cause him to fall behind to the point where he has to spend his extra hours trying to catch up.

you felt bad for bothering him and getting upset, but, he did invite you over after all.

the two of you are always so busy that it could be almost impossible to find time for each other, so when you could, you tried your hardest to make the best out of it. it was even worse seeing as the two of you could barely have sex either, and it was really beginning to get to you.

his eyes were trained on the assignment sheets, reading over them with his head resting on his knuckles. he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and looking up to you with tired written all over him.

“no.” was all he said, his blank facial expression never faltering. he blinked slowly and tiredly at you, the bags under his eyes now more prominent as you finally get a better look at his face.

he was seated at his desk and you were on his bed, sitting atop the sheets, holding one of his plushies for comfort. one of his nightlights was illuminating his room, letting off a warm glow that contrasted his skin perfectly.

you roll your eyes and get up from your position, walking over to where he’s seated.

“you need to take a break, like meditate or whatever you usually do.” you try to suggest, coming in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders and rubbing them soothingly. his eyes follow you, moving his head to crane itself to look up at you.

his face softens from your ministrations, his body immediately relaxing into your touch. “-and i don’t know, maybe spend sometime with your girlfriend.”

the attitude is evident in your tone but he ignores it, moving his head off the table to move his hands on your waist, squeezing it in response to your comment, still looking up to you with those same tired eyes. he only stays silent, the air becoming thick as you await his answer. when he doesn’t reply fast enough, you begin, “c’mon, let’s do something, you’ve been sitting here on your arse since i’ve walked in.”

you now move your hands to his forearms, backing up so you can use your weight to leverage yourself to pull him up. he complies and comes to stand up with you. when he gets off the chair, you hear the joints in his knees crack loudly. he grimaced and began to stretch, finishing it off by twisting and shaking his leg like a dog almost, making you laugh cutely at him.

the side smile he gives goes straight to your core, it being a little to seductive looking for your liking.

suddenly it was like a switch was flipped, now that he was at full length in front of you, it felt like the mood had taken a complete 180. he intertwines your fingers and presses his chest up against yours, exhaling through his nose when you look up at him.

“i have a proposition.” he blurts out and you nod, “shoot your shot.” you reply, blinking at him as you wait, wondering what he could possibly be interested in now.

“lets fuck.” your eyes widen at his bluntness, mouth dropping open in hesitation. now it was his turn to wait for your response, biting on his lip and stroking your sides gently.

“but the guys,” you look to the door and gulp nervously, already imagining one of his group members walking in on you while you two are intimate. “don’t worry about them, they’re tired, it’s been a long week and i just need you now.” his hands shifted down to your ass, squeezing it through your sweats and you narrow your eyes in thought, hesitating on the idea of having sex with your boyfriend while 12 other men are just on the other side of his door.

you look up to him and he’s got his head tilted, looking at you with admiration.

“we don’t have to, but,” he pauses, pursing his lips, “it’s been way to long.” he exhaled again, letting out that breath he didn’t know he was holding. you nodded in agreement, trying to weigh the outcomes in your mind.

his hands smooth over the skin on your ass now, your left hand grips onto his shoulder and the other rests on the nape of his neck, playing with the hair that was becoming very long at the back of his head.

your brain tells you not to, but your core says otherwise by pulsing when he leans into your neck, leaving open mouth kisses all it. “o-okay, yeah let’s do it.” your voice is barely above a whisper when he pulls away with the same smile as before, griping your hips and pressing into you when he leans in to kiss you deeply.

the kiss is sloppy and desperate, spit beginning to build in your mouth fast. your hands dig into his neck unintentionally when he licks over your lips, causing you to shift into his member on accident. he groans into your mouth and you finally open yours for him to slide his tongue into you, immediately exploring and causing spit to dribble down the both of your chins.

it became intense really fast when he began to shift your hoodie up your torso, pulling it up and over your head, leaving your upper half completely bare, as you weren’t wearing a bra.

minghao shifts his eyes to your boobs and he feels his mouth salivate, moving his hands and beginning to massage both your mounds.

he leans in to kiss you again, simultaneously pushing you backwards towards his bed for you to lay down with him hovering over you. your lips never leave each other when he shifts onto his knees, hunching over you, hands going back to play with your boobs.

you let out low moans and he takes that as a go for him to suck on your nipples. he leans down even further to put his mouth onto your right nipple, making eye contact and your mouth drops open in awe.

his hands makes quick work on the waist band of your sweats, playing with it before you buck up into him wantonly. he smiles against you and moves his hands to pull your pants down, leaving your nipple alone. he throws your pants somewhere along with your undies quickly after, spreading your legs to view your soaking center.

“jesus, look at you.” he mumbles, eyes focused on your core and you whine impatiently, bucking up again to get his attention, “minghao please~.” you flush, heat crossing over your cheeks and leaving behind a light blush.

you didn’t notice until now that your heart was pounding, even harder when you realize that he’s straining against his sweats. “just relax, i miss your body.” his hands run over your skin, fingers softly gliding every inch of you and you squirm in anticipation, getting anxious as you hear one of the boys in the kitchen near by.

“minghao they’re right in the kitchen.” you complain and he scowls up at you. “so what if they catch us, they’ll just be jealous they’re not getting their dicks wet.” he says before leaning back on his calf’s to pull his hoodie over his head.

the warm light still reflects off of him, making him glow in the dark light and your mouth waters now, thighs shutting against each other to relieve yourself. he chuckles and palms himself, the both of you staring down each trying to relieve yourselves.

he moves his free hand to your knee to pry them apart, marvelling at your wet center again. he feels himself twitch and decides it’s time to remove himself from the confines of his sweats.

you silently watch him, moving a hand down to play with yourself, biting your lip from the pleasure of the relief of your fingers.

once his pants are on the floor he comes back between your legs and leans in to kiss you again.

everything in the dorm was silent except for the boys that were still awake in the kitchen, either cleaning up for the night or relaxing in the living room.

it felt wrong to do what the two of you were doing and you began to let you thoughts get to you as you hear the guys get louder, actually hearing mingyu walking down the hallway.

minghao senses you uneasiness and pulls away, moving his palm to your cheek, thumb sliding over your lips easily. “y/n, i told you we could stop if you wanted.”

it was like everything came crumbling down on you in that moment and you groaned out in frustration, slamming your hands by your sides and frowning at him. he watched you with wide eyes, confused.

“minghao i swear just stick your dick in me.” he snorts at your response and roughly grabs your thighs to hoist them over his shoulders. he leans down to hover over you, practically folding you in half. your hands clutch onto his biceps’s tightly as you wait for his next move.

he grips his dick, sliding the head through your folds momentarily, then slowly pushing into you, causing you to gasp loudly, mouth dropping open as he slowly stretches you open. he too has his mouth dropped open, sliding in to the point where he’s ball deep, waiting for you to give him the go. “you’re so tight baby. just like i remembered.” he comments, his voice now an octave deeper, pressing his forehead against yours.

you back your hips against him and he takes that as a sign to start moving his hips and immediately begins a fast pace. the way he fucks you is desperate and rough, panting noises only coming from between you both, trying to keep quiet.

“s-shit.” you throw you head back and minghao moves his head into the crook of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and biting, being sure to leave marks. you let small breathy pants out, struggling to hold you noises in, deciding to bite your lip to aid you in concealing your noises instead.

right after that, minghao finds your spot and it causes you to mewl and to arch up into him. his hand holds onto your rib cage while the other snakes itself between you two and starts to rub over your soaking center, stimulating you even more, causing your pants to get louder and louder.

“baby,” he pauses, his thrust never faltering, and taking a breath, “be quiet.” his command makes you shiver, his deep voice resonating in your ears.

suddenly he changes his pace, making it slow and gripping your hips with both hands, pulling out and slamming in against you roughly. you moan out in response, but not loud enough for anyone to be suspicious. he immediately moves his hand over your mouth, going back to his fast pace.

you whimper into his hand, hands clawing his back as he shifts himself to hit your spot repeatedly. “i told you to stay quiet.” your face contorts in pleasure as he begins to speak, your brain not generating a response fast enough, “do you really want to cum?” he whispers into your ear and you whine, nodding vigorously. you begin to speak, pleading and begging him to let you cum, but your sounds are muffled from his palm.

he chuckles deeply and leans back onto his knees, sitting back to admire your fucked out look, eyes watering, hair sprawled on the sheets and a light layer of sweat on your skin. his hand remains tight on your face and your brows furrow after realizing he won’t remove his hand. “you said you didn’t want to get caught.” he smirks, his cocky remark making you roll your eyes internally.

he sits up to start another fast pace, now on his knees with your legs dangling off his shoulders. his thrusts are forceful but quiet, skillfully angling them to hit your spot with each thrust.

your hands go to wrap around the one that sates you, nails digging in with each thrust. “fuck.” he groans under his breath, watching as your breast bounce with the force of his thrusts.

he can feel you flutter around him, you feeling him twitching as well. “are you close?” he leans back down right in front of your face, breath fanning over it. you nod, giving him pleading eyes and he removes his hand. when he lets go you gasp for air, immediately swearing out as he chases both your highs.

you arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut, moving one of your hands down to relieve yourself.

you’re both so close and you feel it coming.

until mingyu comes busting though the door loudly, laughing at one of the guys and turning to the two of you who are looking back at him with frightened eyes.

minghao attempts to cover you, giving him a glare and mingyu squeals in fear, realizing what he had just walked in on.

“OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY!” he yells, putting a hand over his eyes and blindly walking out the room, bumping into the door and closing it.

you hear him run away and you both let out a sigh.

minghao slowly turns his head to you and you glare at him, shoving his shoulder angrily.

“i fucking told you.” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest as he laughs loudly at you, listening in on the conversation in the other room.

“whatever, let me finish you off it’s been way too long.” he says one last time before reconnecting your lips and starting his pace again.

#joshua smut #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagine #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #dino smut #dokyeom smut #hoshi smut #jeonghan smut #seungcheol smut #vernon smut #jun smut #the8 smut #seungkwan smut

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itsnsfwalways · 4 years ago

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hi i saw u were open for requests so i'd love something with either spencer reid or mgg that's just like absolutely filthy like the harry one you wrote, like degradation humiliation spitting choking literally everything u can think of just go crazy

hi there !! so sorry this took so long, i was trying to get it as best as i could for my first official ask !! also matthew just posted on his instagram story why am i sobbing

69 Kill

warnings: swearing, spitting, choking, humiliation, handcuffs, humiliation, mean dom! mgg, and some intense fucking degradation

Matthew was in the middle of filming 68 Kill, and had been kind enough to bring you with him for the filming process. The two of you spent many nights wandering around town, holding hands while walking down streets full of music and light.

You had, of course, read the script and knew what the movie was about, and how much sex and nudity was involved. Helping him with his lines was something that made your stomach flutter, hardly being able to attempt to dominate him while he sits just a few feet away from you.

However, the day he was filming his sex scene where he was being slapped around and essentially dommed, he came back extremely agitated. He had texted you a few hours ago, saying that everything was fine, but you should’ve known better. He threw his jacket onto the chair by the door as soon as he walked into the hotel room, breath heaving and hair pushed in every direction.

Striding over to you in just two steps, he pins you against the wall next to the bathroom door, wrapping a hand around your throat. His thumb pushes into the side of your throat, the rest of the fingers just being a tight reminder of who you belong to.

Matthew tucks his head down and inhales harshly through his nose, fingers tightening minutely as he exhales, breath hitting your shoulder as he pushes his hips into yours.

“Mm, fuck, I am not in the mood to be nice today. You gonna be my good little slut and do exactly as I say?” He groans, moving his face away so his nose touches yours, hand sliding up your throat to rest near your jawline.

“Y-yes, sir,” you gasp out, swallowing around his hand. Your eyes widen and he chuckles lowly, pulling away to look you up and down.

Dressed only in one of his oversized sweaters and a black g-string thong, you were a dream come true to him.

“This pretty body just for me, yeah? Gonna let me use you as a fucking toy, isn’t that right?” He taunts, hooking his finger against the strap of your thong to snap the elastic against your skin.

“Please,” you beg, pushing your throat harder into his hand, arching your back slightly.

He grinds his hips into yours languidly before tilting your head to the side, growling into your ear, “On the bed, now.”

He releases you and you scramble to obey him, lying down on your back with your hands tucked under you, eyes facing the ceiling.

His hands make quick work of removing his top and shoes, leaving him in only a pair of black jeans and his thick black belt.

He crawls on top of you, pinning you underneath him as he rests his weight on his forearms on either side of your head.

“I don’t remember you asking to wear my sweater, kitten,” he pouts, taking a handful of fabric and pulling it up, exposing your soaked underwear and lower stomach.

“N-No, sir, I just thought-,” he interrupts you before you can finish,

“You thought you could pull a fast one on me, huh? Knowing your dom had to be slapped around all day, thought you’d put him through just a little bit more, isn’t that right, pet?” he spits, slapping your right cheek suddenly, pulling a gasp from your lips as your eyes roll backwards.

Matthew snaps his fingers an inch from your nose, eyes blaring and speaking through gritted teeth when he mutters,

“Eyes. On. Me.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, mouth opening on its own accord.

“I want you to lie here, and take everything I’m about to give you. You’re going to let your owner use his pretty little pussy, and not cum until I tell you to, have I made myself clear?” His eyes bore into you as he demands respect, his entire demeanor making your brain go fuzzy.

“Green, sir,” is the only thing you’re able to say, breath stuttering already as he laughs out loud, shaking his head back and forth.

“My dumb baby can’t even think and I haven’t even started playing with you yet,” he fake-sympathizes, stroking your cheekbone with the back of his hand.

“Please,” you whine, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

“Aww, puppy,” he laughs, pulling his sweater above your head quickly before ripping your arms out from underneath you, pinning them to the headboard. He spits out, “Stay here,” before leaning up from you, tearing off his belt with a loud snap that goes straight to your core.

He smirks down at you as he starts making a pair of homemade handcuffs, sliding them around your wrists before tightening them. Your fingers grip the edge of the mattress and he grins, beginning to grind into you once more.

“Your hands leave this position and I’ll make you wish you had listened, do you understand?” He growls into your ear, pushing his bulge directly over your slit.

“Yes, Sir, God, please do something,” you cry out, watching as he rolls his eyes at you. His hands immediately go to grip your waist tightly, fingertips squeezing hard enough to leave small bruises in their wake.

Matthew finally takes mercy on you, hands going to pinch at both your nipples as he presses his lips to yours, licking deeply into your mouth almost immediately.

You moan into his throat and tilt your jaw up, tongue dancing with his as he takes the lead.

His right hand goes to hold your head up as the kiss gets more and more heated, his teeth clashing into yours as spit starts to drip down your chin, the two of you breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.

He pulls away for a second to spit harshly onto your tongue, hand moving down to wrap around your neck as he mutters, “swallow,” watching you closely as your throat pushes into his hands, a harsh breath escaping him at this.

“God, I fucking own you,” he groans, teeth pulling your bottom lip into his mouth only to let it snap back against your teeth.

Pulling his left hand away from where it was massaging your tit, he snaps it quickly to strike you across the chest harshly, humming as you cry out.

“How does it make you feel, knowing you’re the only one who gets me like this, huh? Everyone else gets to watch me be smacked around when really, my perfect little girl gets off on being thrown around, isn’t that right, princess?” Matthew asks, sliding a hand to angle your hips better against his. Your leg hooks around his back, the constant attention to your clit from his zipper making you moan deeply, head tilting backwards as you bite your lip harshly.

“God, so good, Sir.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head from side to side as he moves his hand from your thigh to feel you through your underwear. You knew the material was soaked through by now, the thought of this making you blush.

He rips the thong down your legs, throwing it behind him as he traces his middle finger up your folds slowly, catching as much of your wetness as possible before bringing it up to rest an inch from your faces.

“But you’re not a good girl, no, you’re just a dumb little whore who wants to get fucked. Use your words,” he spits, looking at his glistening finger in the sunlight.

“I’m a useless whore that’s only good for being fucked, sir, please use me, hurt me, fuck,” you choke out, tears falling from your eyes.

He sticks his tongue out and licks his finger clean, making direct eye contact as he sucks his finger into his mouth, pulling it out with a pop.

“Why don’t you come sit on my face,” he hums, flipping the two of you so you now sit on his lap.

“More like 69 Kill, eh, Chip?” you emphasize, looking to push his buttons a little farther.

A hand immediately comes up to your throat and throws you onto your back, all the air escaping from your lungs as Matthew spits onto your cheek.

He licks the wad off of you, tongue dragging up your face while he places more pressure on your throat.

“What... the fuck did you just call me?” He growls, veins in his neck twitching as he looks down at you, red hot anger coming from his eyes.

This look was what you needed to see from him.

He doesn’t give you the chance to speak, gritting out from clenched tweets, “On. Your. Knees.”

Your legs move on their own accord to the side of the bed, hands kept bound in your lap.

A massive head rush comes to you as Matthew tilts your chin up, smiling at the glossy eyed look you’re giving him.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, not being able to control himself from how pretty you look.

You give him a big grin before sticking your tongue out, opening your mouth for him.

He looks at you for a minute before slapping you across the face, pulling a gasp from you as your head turns to the side. The strike sends a live of heat down your body and you clench your thighs together at the sensation.

Matthew unbuttons his pants slowly, your eyes watching his every movement.

He scoffs, shaking his head muttering, “NOW you wanna be a good girl.”

His hard-on slaps him in the stomach as he pulls his briefs down, kicking them off to the side.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his long, thick cock red from the lack of attention. You look up at him for permission before licking a long stripe from base to tip, following a vein with your tongue on the underside of his cock.

He sighs in appreciation as you wrap your lips around the tip, tongue going down to lick at the bottom of the head, smiling to yourself when you feel him twitch.

You open your mouth up for him and give him the okay to start fucking your throat, tucking your thumb under your fingers and squeezing to help your gag reflex.

Matthew’s hands find their way into your hair, using your head as his own sex doll, thrusting steadily and hitting the back of your throat everytime. He leans his head back and groans, the guttural sound sending shivers down your spine.

Pulling your head off of him, he gives you a small break to catch your breath, admiring the way your face is already covered in spit.

“Who’s pretty whore are you?” He coos, wiping a tear with his thumb.

“I’m your whore, I’m your filthy slut, Sir,” you gasp, hands clenching into fists in your lap.

“And what the fuck is my name?” Matthew spits, muffling your answer by thrusting his cock back into your mouth, holding your nose to his stomach for a few moments before pulling you back by your hair.

“Sorry, couldn’t catch that, pet. What is my name?” He whispers, tugging your hair back so you make eye contact with him.

“Sir,” you choke out, spit drooling down your chin.

Matthew squeezes your cheeks together and leans forward to spit down your throat, holding your mouth and nose closed before muttering out,

“Swallow.”

You do so immediately, looking up at him with watering eyes before he releases you, opening your mouth to check.

“Pathetic,” he sighs, pushing his cock back into your mouth. You gag slightly around him, trying to pull for a second, but Matthew just pushes you farther back down, ignoring your whine of protest.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t want this. You deserve to be punished, nasty girl,” he scoffs, tapping your cheeks with his fingers. You hollow your cheeks in response and he sucks in a sharp breath, moaning lowly, “Mmm, just like that.”

He allows you to take control, slurping up and down his cock while tracing patterns with your tongue. Eventually, he pulls you off, wiping your face with a face rag.

“Such a messy little thing. Get up on the bed, face down, ass up,” he demands, pulling you up by your arm.

Stumbling to comply with his directions, you slide yourself up onto your forearm, tucking your head down as you arch your ass back, exposing your dripping core to Matthew.

He takes a moment to look at your shaking body, all splayed out from him, miles of bare skin for him to explore. Unable to help himself, he slaps your ass with both his hands, forcing your chest deeper into the mattress as you groan.

“That feels good, huh, princess?” He asks, sneaking his thumb down to rub at your clit.

“Fuck, yes,” you choke out, biting your lip as he slides a finger inside of you, curling it towards himself before pulling it all the way out and joining it with another.

“So tight for me,” he groans, pressing his two fingers deep inside you, finding that extra fleshy spot with ease and digging into it, pulling moans out of you that you didn’t know were possible.

“I’m not gonna last, Sir,” you cry, legs shaking as you fight off your creeping orgasm, stomach tightening as your pussy begins to flutter around his fingers.

“You can and you will,” Is all you hear before a hand pushes your head deeper into the mattress, feeling his fingers start to go faster.

“Sir!” Your eyes roll backwards into your head as you feel his thumb speed up around your clit.

Strangled gasps and moans are all that come from you as your whole body begins to quiver, toes curled under and hips jerking as Matthew spits on your heat, tears falling down as you scream in desperation.

“Cum,” Matthew grunts, pulling his fingers out and replacing it with his cock in one smooth thrust, beginning to fuck you quickly automatically as you writhe underneath him.

You sob into the pillow in relief as you cum HARD on him, walls tightening as your clit vibrates underneath him, your hole swallowing him as he thrusts faster and faster.

“Fuck,” Matthew drawls out, slapping your ass once and breathily laughing at your moan. “Keep coming, baby. You’re such a good little cockslut. God, you feel so fucking tight around me.”

One hand grips your hips as he moves to put his weight on you, reaching around with his hand to lift your throat up to look at him.

“Oh, baby, doesn’t that feel so good,” he moans, rolling his hips steadily into yours.

You blank out for a sec, tongue falling out of your mouth in response, allowing him to let his spit fall into your mouth, closing your eyes happily.

A slap to the face wakes you up, immediately whining at the new pressure on your stomach.

“Where are you, puppy? Can’t take me, is that it?” He taunts in your ear, biting the lobe harshly.

“N-No, I can, Sir. Fuck,” your voice cracks and Matthew’s hips stutter at the high-pitched whine that accompanies your shaking hips.

“You gonna come again on my cock, pretty girl?” He coos, wrapping you up entirely in his arms as he fucks into you at a brutal pace, matching the speed with his thumb on your clit.

“Yes, Sir,” you choke out, turning your head to look at him.

His hair flops in front of his face, sweat pinning some to his forehead. His swollen lips are bright red and shiny, not to mention his eyes looking at you as if you were straight out of a fairytale.

“Come, sweet girl. Come right fucking now on my cock, I want to feel you pulsing around me, mm, just like that,” Matthew moans into your ear, watching as you immediately come undone at his words, screaming with what air you have left as your body feels like it’s been shocked with how strong your orgasm is. Each of your nerves feel like lightening as you cum, hips stuttering in his hand. You feel him twitch inside you and groan deeply, feeling completely owned from head to toe.

“Good girl,” he draws out, slowing his pace down as the two of you ride out your orgasms.

Pulling out of you gently, he shushes you’re whine of protest and immediately turns you over, removing your wrists from the make shift handcuffs.

“Sorry, baby, these are a little red,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling your limp body into his chest, holding you close to him so your head falls onto his chest as you try and come back to life. Opening your mouth up slightly, you look up at him and he absolutely melts under you, placing his thumb inside your mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N, always make me feel so good. I love you so much, little one. Wanna come back and give me a kiss?” Matthew takes his time stroking your back with one hand and your cheekbone with the other.

You hum slightly around his digit and he feels you bite him lightly, making him scrunch his nose up and let out a quiet, “Hey!”

You let Matthew’s thumb fall from your mouth to wrap your arms around his neck, trying to snuggle your face deeper into his neck.

“Hi, pretty baby. You feeling okay?” He asks with nothing but kindness and a need to care for you behind his voice.

You nod along his shoulder and take a deep breath in, shakily exhaling.

He waits for you to pull away from the hug before taking your face in his hands and examining you properly, making sure he didn’t go to rough. Finding you sleepily blitzed out and satiated fills his body with ease, allowing him to kiss your bitten lips softly.

“Tired,” you sigh, tracing his cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah, I know; sweet girl. We gotta go pee and then can go in the bath,” he gasps, smiling widely to make you giggle in his lap. “Does that sound okay, puppy?”

You smile to yourself at the pet name, feeling warm and fuzzy as you nod, letting him pick you up and place you on the toilet while he begins to draw the bath.

He helps you step into the bath before settling himself behind you, allowing the two of you to relax before he begins washing your hair.

He holds his hand above your forehead to make sure the water doesn’t get in your eyes, a gesture so small but so meaningful that it brings tears to your eyes.

Matthew notices this right away, stopping scrubbing the shampoo in your hair to tilt your jaw at him, smiling at your soft face.

“What’s going on?” He sweetly asks, rubbing your back slowly as his eyes scan you up and down, brain going a million miles an hour to make sure you’re okay. You shake your head and sniffle, pushing your air out to say,

“Just love you a lot.”

Matthew swallows deeply and feels his heart clench a little. The overwhelming feeling of being able to take care of you while being the one breaking you down takes over him and he kisses your forehead, leaving his lips there for a while.

“Love you so much, angel. How was that for you? You were so so perfect, Y/N,” He rushes out.

You smile at his sneaky way of getting you to keep talking and treating you like a flower at the same time. “So good, baby. Make me feel like a queen.”

“Good,” Matthew says, kissing your shoulder before continuing washing your hair and your body, rubbing you down softly with a damp cloth.

He brushes the cloth lightly over your pussy, legs twitching in oversensitivity. You suck in air harshly, looking at his eyes as he leans in, just wiping you down fully before removing the towel.

“Too much,” you sigh, shaking your head at him.

“Mkay, my queen,” he teases, and you smile, tilting your head down to hide your blush.

He helps you out of the bath, into pajamas, and back into bed, slotting himself behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you impossibly close.

“Thank you for that, my love,” Matthew sighs, tracing circles on your arm.

“Of course, baby. Always happy to be your little bitch,” you nonchalantly say, grinning to yourself when his hips thrust against you minutely.

“Naughty girl,” he tuts, biting your ear quickly.

PHEW ! is anyone else sweating or is that just me. anyways, i hope that works !! asks are open and i’d love prompts, it might take me a bit to get to them but i promise it’ll be worth it. - lana

#matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #68 kill #matthew gray gubler x reader #dom mgg

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angelguk · 4 years ago

Text

→ bad behaviour 03 — a namjoon scenario

member: kim namjoon

word count: 7.5k

rating: 18+

genre: established relationship + smut + college!au

warnings: we’re ovulating!!! / introduction to the breeding kink that will plague this couple forever / was meant 2 be a drabble?? im incapable we know that / eh big joon!!!! / manhandling kink / pet names used a lot / joon thinks he’s gf is dumb and wants to breed her idk man / size kink / crying when cumming / oc shy for once / discussion of twitter porn / creampie / oc is on birth control (obvs dont do this if u dont want a kid but this is a fanfic u know) / mentions of fisting porn / cock warming!! / if u see a typo no u dont

soundtracks: more than enough + morroco, alina baraz

prompt: “don’t you think there is always something unspoken between two people?” (Something Unspoken, Tennessee Williams).

It’s a rather serene Thursday afternoon, the late autumn breeze sweeping through the campus air. The stillness was ideal for studying, alluding to assignment deadlines creeping round the corner. Which was why your butt is firmly parked in the mess of Kim Namjoon's sheets.

The man in question is hunched in the corner of his dorm room, one large hand idly tugging at the chestnut mane on his head and his neck curved with attentiveness. You wish you possessed the determinate focus that he had, but your thoughts have a mind of their own, spiralling further into the darkest depths of your mind as they gingerly coax forth memories that spark a searing heat deep inside of you. You feel tight, drawn like the bow of an arrow, a stark contrast to the tranquillity spilling around you. The fact that Namjoon is practically naked isn’t helping your consciousness. Your gaze lingers on the rows of muscles lining his broad back, the tension running through them emphasising the dips and curves in his golden skin. His eyes, however, are glued to the myriad of words before him, the pen grasped in his grip swift as he scribbles down notes you know you’ll never be able to decipher. Not that you needed too, it was intriguing that such a put-together man like Namjoon had handwriting that essentially resembled chicken scratch. It was atrocious — but still elegant, very much embodying the person to whom the writing belonged to. You can’t recall what assignment he intended to complete today — something about the presentation of nihilism in Russian literature or whatever — but he’s devoted all his attention to it, meticulous in the numerous sticky notes and page markers that line the novel perched on his desk. It’s bent with the remembrance of his fingers, sepia-toned dogged-ear pages staring at the ceiling of his dorm room. Something blooms within you the longer you look at him, faint but strong like a tide shifting towards the shores. You don’t even register the slip of your laptop from your lap, legs sprawling open unconsciously. It spurs so quick you can’t even clamp down on it, the desire you have for the burly man bent over his world of words just a few steps away. But you know how much Namjoon values his academics. It’s with a muffled groan that you roll over, burrowing your face into his pillows in hopes that the wave will subside. It doesn't — crawling beneath your skin begging you to give in.

It’s the click of Namjoon’s pen that gets you, a sharp note that cuts through the burning of your body. Your thighs seal together, the slick that collects between your legs sticking to your core. With a sigh that you shift again, reaching out for your laptop. It’s best to look for a distraction, give him the space he needs to concentrate. At yet, your gaze can’t help but drift. He’s not covering an inch of skin, burly arms and thick thighs on display like he wants to tempt you. There are no words to describe how much you hate him — nor how much you long to have him inside of you too.

You recall it with a jolt — the lave of his wide tongue against your folds, licking you apart with deft swift swipes that leave you weeping into his sheets more nights than you’d like to admit. You shuffle again, helpless to the yearnings of your mind. The heat on your inner thighs is a phantom. Namjoon likes to hold you down, press your hips into his sheets against the whims of your squirming. It’s the way he looks at you when you’re on the verge of tears, a wanton hunger in his eyes that unravels you fast. You can almost see it, thighs subconsciously nudging against each other. Then there’s the stretch of his fingers, larger than you own. He’s pushed you to the edge with just two of them before, persistent against that spot inside of you until he’s satisfied with the blissed slackness that descends upon your features. Then he’d add another, and another. There’s an undeclared thought between the two of you. You’ve noted the fisting porn in his Twitter bookmarks. Maybe one day you’ll have the guts to let him try.

For now, you swallow it down. Suffocate that longing until the embers burning within you smother to ashes. Your laptop returns to resting at an angle at your hip, gaze idling running through your readings. The words don’t sink in though, sitting on your skull before hastily floating away. There’s not much space for anything else but Namjoon at the moment, no matter how hard you try to reread the paragraphs or stare at your screen. You don’t even have to open the app on your phone to know what’s going on with your body. This is your first full ovulation with him. Usually, he’s preoccupied with assignments or TA responsibilities that cut your time together short, interrupting this part of your cycle and leaving you to your own devices. You hadn’t fully wormed your way into Namjoon’s life to demand all his attention just yet. This was still new, untested. Namjoon was independent and so sure of himself that telling your boyfriend that you needed him to stop focusing on his future to raw the crap out of you (multiple times) felt incredibly selfish.

You stare at the words in front of you until they swim, wishing you didn’t feel like this. Like you needed Namjoon to breathe. You can wait it out, maybe get what you’re dying for after post-studying cuddles and take-out. Even if it takes every ounce of your willpower to clasp your legs together and not jump the wonderfully large man that is your boyfriend.

Unbeknown to you, the same yearning that plagues you chips away at his resolve. A persistent want that wavers in the back of his mind, clamouring for attention, because even with his eyes stuck on the pages beneath him, he can sense your fidgeting.

Your attention span is incredibly short — Namjoon knows this. It ricochets off the walls even when you’re sitting still. It’s taken time, but Namjoon has gradually adjusted to it, muting the powerful waves of energy that radiate off of you when necessary. Today, however, is different. That energy he’s learnt to ignore eats him alive, sinking below his skin and leaving him buzzed as he scours his brain for any meaningful essay points. He keeps flipping through the pages of the novel, mind attempting and miserably failing to piece together a cohesive argument that correlates with the evidence he’s got highlighted in a loud neon yellow.

All because he can’t stop thinking about you.

He wants to blame it on the fact that he hasn’t seen you in a while (which is a blatant lie). Namjoon saw you two days ago. You were wearing that floral skirt that he loves, the fabric hiking up your thighs whenever you lined yourself against his side, snuggling deep into him like you never wanted to leave. He hates that skirt — hates it — because now he can’t think of anything but it, thoughts blurring at the memory of your bare skin. Skin that he loves to mark, latch onto until violets and blues blossom. His mind is running before he can catch it, falling into a dangerous reminiscence of images that sit heavy in his gut. That stupid skirt flipped up your waist and his head between your thighs. Nothing feels as good as you do on his tongue. He loves the way you taste, the sounds that drift from your lips, the way your thighs twitch and tremor as you unravel underneath him. You get so loud when your high hits you. He knows his roommates have heard you before, but he truly doesn’t care. He loves hearing you scream his name, drives him to the brink of insanity if he’s being honest. Yet, it’s the way you look at him afterwards, a deliriousness swimming in your eyes that makes Namjoon want to keep you in his bed forever. Fuck you until you can’t walk without feeling him deep inside of you. Paint your skin so that everyone knows who you belong to.

His head hits the table with a muted thud, a low sighing escaping into the air. The tent in his loose shorts hurts. There’s a part of him that’s mortified — how could he get hard just from the thought of you when you're sitting right there on his bed? Perhaps it’s proof that you’ve invaded everything he is. His space, his heart, his mind.

“Namjoon?” You question, tone tentative in the silence that consumes him whole. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunts. And then his brain settles, a tightness in his stomach that he can’t deny. “Actually, no I’m not.”

You don’t even have time to register it before he's moving towards you. It's as if he's flown from his desk, gliding through the space between you to firmly plant himself on top of you. Your laptop is knocked to the side, lost in the muss of his bed sheets as Namjoon moulds himself into you. You can't help the breathless giggle that hits the air. It's cut by the weight of Namjoon on you. He's heavy, all hard muscles and broad shoulders. Your fingertips slip against the fabric of his shirt — 100% pure cotton because he's fastidious like that — a lightness forming in your chest just from the feel of him in your hands. He sighs and you melt, losing yourself in him as he burrows his head into the hollow of your neck. The kiss he places there is soft, but it hits like a torrent of rain, drowning you harshly. Your body ignites like the flame you wanted to smother was never extinguished. You cling to him, the only thing keeping you afloat in the wave of adoration that crashes into you.

"What are you doing? What's wrong?" You murmur, vibrating when he kisses you again. Namjoon hums in response, his wide hands shifting to settle on the back of your thighs, gently spreading your legs apart to nestle himself there. Your back jolts when you feel it — feel him. Hard and needy against your core, a heat radiating where you meet. The flutter in your eyes is automatic, brain shutting down when he rolls his hips. He nips your neck then, a light press of his teeth into the delicate skin. You stop breathing when he smothers the pain with a kiss, thoughts dissolving into the air as you stare at the ceiling of his dorm, thinking you're never going to let this man go.

"Namjoo—" His mouth is on you before you can even finish your sentence, swallowing the words with a gentle press of his lips until yours fall apart. Kissing him might be one of your favourite activities ever. He feels good against your lips, ginger but sure in how he works you open, drawing sighs from your throat like he was born to do so. It’s easy to give in, your hips moving against his and your fingers dragging through his hair. It’s with a soft gasp that you part, the air around you electric. His brown eyes are dark but they gaze at you with an adoration that makes your heart swell. There are moments where you feel it on the tip of your tongue, a proclamation that yearns to spill out. But it’s too early to say anything like that yet. So you draw him closer instead, the content laugh that floats from his throat caught in your mouth. This kiss is different, more desperate, a hope that he understands what you mean heavy in your chest. You think he does because he kisses you back with an intent that leaves you breathless, a heady thing that has you arching into him before it peters out into tender little pecks. Your heart is so full it could explode.

And it does a second later when he drops a light kiss on your forehead, his wide hands settling on the backs of your thighs as he presses himself further into you. You know he feels the slick drenching your underwear by the hitch in his breath.

“Study break?” He offers, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that ensnares you. A danger that glows like stars adorning a velvet sky.

“Namjoon,” you groan in response, legs wrapping around his waist. You can feel the length of him, hard and twitching against you. “You can’t just do that! It’s not fair.”

“Why? You don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a nudge that coaxes another slip from your core. The whine that leaves your lips is instinctual.

“I do! It’s just that — um — just that I’m ovulating right now.”

The second the word leaves your mouth he freezes, broad body suspended over you and a distant look sweeping over his honey eyes. And then something clicks, his cock settling further into you, a twitch along his length that echoes in your nerves.

“Right now?” The words that leave his mouth are measured, his gaze locking on your own as if he’s weighing the consequences of his desires.

“Yes, right now. I don’t know if we—”

“Can I be honest with you? I haven’t been able to focus since you came over and the idea of you ovulating is doing nothing but making me extremely hard right now.”

“I — what? Really? Are you serious?”

He nods, unabashed as the blush rising beneath his golden skin. Your fingers dig further into his back, the want that sweeps through your system feral. It's so swift that you can’t control the rise of your hips nor the warmth that pools in your gut. Namjoon dissolves right back into you, the groan that slips from his mouth meeting the heat of your skin as he burrows himself back into the crook of your neck. You’re no longer thinking, your brain stuck on the feeling of his cock against you, direct with every drag of his hips. He wants this as much as you do, a realisation that you’re still trying to comprehend. You have to ask again, terrified of the teetering edge you’re on.

“You sure? Like really?”

He scoffs, shifting back to give you a look. “You’ve seen my NSFW twitter, baby. You know what’s there.”

“Yeah, a lot more fisting porn than I ever expected.” There’s a beat of silence, Namjoon’s gaze shifting into something you can’t decipher. “Not that I’m against fisting,” you quickly amend, “It was just surprising.”

“Fair enough, but that wasn’t the only thing there.”

You know what he's referring to but seeing other people commit the act and then doing it yourself were too completely different things. There are still some things you’re too ashamed to say out loud and that particular kink of one of them. While your ovulation had a rather stronghold over you, so did your inner mortification.

Namjoon, on the other hand, cannot be bothered to beat around the bush. “You’ve seen what’s there right?" He repeats. "Creampies? Cum play? Breeding—”

“Don’t say that!”

He pauses, a playful grin tugging at his lips.”Is that what you want? Because you’re ovulating? What me to stuff—”

“Namjoon, stop it!”

He laughs then, a low sound dangerous that fills the room and swallows the embarrassment that eats away at you alive. “How can I? My pretty girl wants me to breed her, stuff her full of cum until it’s leaking from her cunt. You want that right? Want my cock so deep you feel it tomorrow? Am I right, baby? Hmm?”

You’re not looking at him, cheeks burning with every word parting his lips, but your cunt agrees wholeheartedly, leaking against your panties at the thought of Namjoon fucking you full. He doesn’t take your silence well though, a firm hand clasping around your jaw and tugging your focus right back into him. There's a glint in his eyes, a sharp dark wild thing.

“Baby.” He says it slowly, the word tumbling from his lips and right into the heat forming in your core. “Is that what you want?”

“Maybe,” you retort, feeling the twitch that tremors through his jaw deep inside of you. Namjoon scoffs, hand dropping from your chin. The absence of his touch has you scrambling after it, the movement occurring before you can bite back your desperation.

“Maybe? Then you don’t want it enough do you? I should leave you to study, don’t you think?”

“Namjoon.” Your fingers grip into his shirt before he can shift away, a pounding in your chest that terrifies you. “Maybe I do want it — a lot — I just can't say it.”

“You can’t say it?” He cocks an eyebrow. “But you know how to use your words when you’re arguing with me.”

He’s infuriating and he’s doing it on purpose from the telltale gleam in his eyes. You don’t know what to despise more; Namjoon and his provocations or your inability to vocalise your desires. But that anger withers into wanting the second he settles back between your thighs, cock hard and heavy where you need him most. Yet, still, saying it out loud isn’t possible for you just yet. But you do want it, a great deal more than you’d ever admit.

“That’s different,” you say instead. “That’s when you’re being stupid.”

The eye-roll you're granted is brimming with exasperation. “Of course, you would say that.”

“And I’m correct.”

“Sure, you are,” Namjoon returns, nuzzling into your chest. He’s saying it to complacent you and it ticks you off

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, a warning in your voice.

Namjoon sighs, perfect face burrowed between your boobs. “I’m not arguing with you right now. You look cute when you get mad and I’m hard enough as it. Besides, that’s not the point.”

That should not have you buzzing, the word cute sticking out from the rest of his horrid statement like a neon light in the dark. But you let it rest, preoccupied with the fact that:

a. Namjoon is horny

b. So are you

“So,” you say. “What was the point?”

“The point is that you’re too shy to say you want me to stuff you—”

Point B no longer exists. You are no longer horny even when he’s looking at you like that with that stupid lopsided grin of his.

“I get it,” you retort, “I get the point. And I’m not saying that. Not today, not ever.”

“Oh? Are you sure about that?” There’s a challenge there, and like an idiot you fall for it, raising an indignant eyebrow in response.

“Yes, I will not—”

He’s got the band of your sweatpants down in a second, wiggling the fabric down your hips and past your butt faster than you can blink. You don’t object, a muffled giggle drifting from your throat when he finally gets them off, tossing the pants somewhere in the corner of his room, something to be searched for later, not now. That giggle shifts to a moan the second his face dives between your thighs, the deep breath he takes in kindling a flame in your gut. There’s the faint press of his tongue through the cotton of your underwear, the low groan he lets out when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties setting something off within you.

“Oh — oh — N-Namjoon!”

“Yes, baby?” Another lick, tongue quick and firm against your drenched core.

“Don’t play with me. I can’t handle that right now.”

“I’m not playing,” he remarks. “Just giving you a reason to say you want me to stuff you full of my cum. I know you want to say it anyway.”

You huff. “You think I’ll give in that easi — hgnh.” He’s tearing your underwear off, tongue landing back onto your wet folds before you can register the fact that the fabric is gone. A few firm wet laves of that muscle against your cunt and you can see your resolve crumbling. He knows exactly where to lick and drag his tongue, nose buried into the apex of your cunt as if he wants to breathe you in. You can’t help the buck of your hips, a tremor running down your thighs when his tongue slips into your hole, pressing in with purpose and leaving you breathless in his sheets. But then he’s drawing away and you glance down to find him staring at your cunt in wonder, his rouge mouth glistening with your slick.

“How can I not,” Namjoon says, offering a kitten lick that spikes a shock in your spine, “Play with you when you’re so fun to play with, angel.” The smile on his lips is dangerous.

Your hand settles on his head and Namjoon curls into it. But instead of dragging your fingernails against his skull and pulling him closer like you know he loves, you shove him away, swiftly squeezing your thighs shut. If you’re going to play this game, you’re doing it on your terms.

“You’re not being fair,” you say. Namjoon blinks at you like you’re insane, obviously thinking with the dick in his pants rather than his head. “Go back to your Isaac Turganife or whatever.”

“It’s Ivan Turgenev, baby,” he replies, sighing slow. “And I don’t want to go? Do you really want me to?” He plants a tender kiss on your bare thigh and you burst with want, slick leaking out even though you didn’t intend it to.

“Not fair,” you say again. But you don’t want him to leave you like this, at the mercy of your hormones and the sudden remembrance of Namjoon’s thick cock stretching you open. “But no, I don’t want you to go. Just don’t play with me please.”

“Okay, that’s fine. But if we’re being honest here all I can think about is seeing my cum leak out of you. I just want you to want that as much as I do.” He says it in a rush like he’s afraid he won’t have the nerve to admit it if he doesn’t do it right now.

But I do, you think, walls fluttering just from the flash of that image in your mind. I do, Namjoon. And yet, you can’t say it.

“I’m ovulating, Namjoon,” you retort instead.

“And you’re also on birth control,” he rebuttals. “PEMDAS or whatever. It cancels out the baby option, right?”

“You are so dumb it hurts, Kim Namjoon,” you murmur, fighting the urge to kiss your stupid boyfriend. It’s a very odd conversation to be having when your cunt is on display and his dick is hard in his pants but you’re having it anyway.

“We’ve fucked raw before though?” He continues, still not piecing it together. “And so far, no baby. So no problem right?”

“When I’m not ovulating. Less risk, at least that’s what I like to believe.”

“Well I suggest you start believing that right now because I would very much like to see you stu—”

“Stop saying that you’re making me want to turn celibate!”

“Oh?” Namjoon remarks. “And yet you’re leaking all over my sheets every time I mention it.”

“I will cut you off from sex for a week if you say something like that again,” you retort.

Namjoon grins like he knows this is affecting you on a deeper level than your cunt being wet. “Fair enough, but I have to ask. Do you want that?”

“Want what?” Feigning ignorance is the safest bet until that shift in his eyes appears.

“Want my cum?” he says it so easily, unaffected while your face rushes with heat.“Inside of you, leaking out of you… All of it?”

And maybe you stop breathing at the thought of feeling full of everything Namjoon had to offer you, your walls clenching tight.

“Maybe. Maybe I do, I don’t know.” You do know and Namjoon knows that you do too. It’s with a defeated murmur that you admit it, voice soft in his room. “Okay, fine. I do. I want that.”

“You do?” There’s an edge in his voice. “You want me to bre—”

“Stop it before I change my mind.”

He laughs, a light warm thing that digs into your chest. “Okay, okay! Sorry, babe. Do you want me to prep you? My mouth? My fingers? You can decide.”

It’s settled so quick in your brain you realise it was never up for debate. “Neither. Just you. I just want you.”

He halts, honey eyes locked on yours for a moment, before springing to his feet and tugging his shirt over his head with speed. “We can do that,” he mumbles, his knees bumping against the foot of his bed. His pants come off next, plummeting to the ground where he kicks them off a moment later. It’s only then that you see the consequence of actions, straining painfully against his boxer briefs. He shifts to tug those off too but you cut the movement before it happens, shuffling forward until your hand is cupped around his length. Namjoon doesn’t protest, rolling into the tiny palm of your hand. You love the way he feels underneath your palm, thick and hard and heavy, a weight you long to feel inside of you. He sighs low when you grip him, watching your fingers wrap around the outline of his dick through the fabric. It’s only then that you realise, your gaze slipping down his body, subtly noting the sharp intake of breath when your lips mimic what he did to your underwear before he ripped it off, that Namjoon has been holding himself back.

He wants this, badly. It’s evident from the tightness in his voice when he speaks a moment later.

“Angel,” It’s said low, a warning. “I thought we said we wouldn’t play with each other.”

He’s right. With a small pout, you lean away and Namjoon wastes no time moving into your space, strong arms swapping your arm just to land you back at the head of his bed. You suddenly remember your laptop, lost in the mess of his sheets. Namjoon is kind enough to relocate it before climbing right back into your space, cock digging into your stomach when he kisses you again. It doesn’t take long before your top is gone, joining Namjoon’s pants on the floor, and then you’re digging the band of his underwear down, your lips still slotted together and a wetness rapidly forming between your thighs at the feel of his bare cock against you.

But he’s impatient, shuffling you around the second his length is freed. Your back is hard against his mattress, fingers grasping at the sheets when Namjoon knocks your knees apart. There’s a moment of bated breath, his large hands lingering against the bare skin of your exposed thigh, brown eyes locked on your wet folds. His gaze is so intense you instinctively want to clamp your legs shut, shy away from how seen you feel under his eyes. Yes, technically you were naked in his bed but there’s something else that he draws out just from looking at you. Something that makes you nervous because you like it so much.

“Don’t hide from me.” It’s whispered in the heat of the air, Namjoon picking up on how your legs drift together. He’s got them pressed apart a second later, grip firm but gentle, and your stomach does a swoop so dangerous you’re left violently reeling, the ceiling above you spinning. “Don’t do that, angel. Too pretty to hide from me. I want to see all of you.”

You can only hum in response, throat clogged with words that won’t form into coherent sounds. But Namjoon understands you regardless, kissing you senseless as his massive body descends on yours. His hands are on your ass a second later, gripping tight as his length nudges against your core. You just might cry, desperation bubbling in your chest. He draws away gently but you don’t want to let him leave, fingers taut on his broad back, gripping onto the very muscles that had you heady just earlier today. There’s a whine on your tongue that he swallows before you part once more. The laugh that slips from his lips at the sight of your pouted mouth is fond. He grants you another peck, soft and tender, before Namjoon rips himself away, determined this time.

His hips are lined against yours a moment later, cock stiff and dripping with precum. And yet your gaze doesn’t tear from the arms trapping you in his sheets. His biceps look huge, massive actually, all hard muscle and pure strength. It’s doing something to the base part of your brain because you can’t stop thinking about how large Namjoon is. Caving you in, your personal shelter from the world. Is it weird that you feel protected? Safe in the bed of this boy. You wouldn’t mind hiding here forever. A part of you wants to kiss him again, but Namjoon’s focused on other things, oblivious to the cave-woman looking for a mate thoughts running amok in your brain.

They dissipate the moment the head of his cock nudges at your entrance. Just a light tease, but he splits you open quick enough.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, angel. Didn’t need me to prep you at all.”

You mumble a noise that you’re not sure leaves your throat. He’s taking it slow on purpose, pushing in inch by inch so that you feel every part of him filling you up. It’s intoxicating, how the feeling of the slow drag of his cock overtakes everything in your brain. You’ll never get over how big Namjoon is, no matter how many times he fucks you. Each shift of his hips forward coaxing slick from your cunt. It pools at your entrance, dripping over his length until he’s glistening with your wetness.

“F-fuck,” He head drops down to the hollow of your neck the moment he’s sheathed inside, the velvet walls of your pussy gripping him hard. It’s too much for the both of you, bodies strung high on the want that threatened to consume you both. But he feels good like this, lodged in your cunt, stretching you wide and making a place for himself right between your legs. He gives you a moment to adjust and then the coiled spring in him snaps.

“So fucking tight around me, angel. Taking my cock so well.” There’s an edge in his voice, a warning for what’s to come.

You groan when he draws up, a tiny squeal erupting from your throat when he slams back down, hips angled to piston you into his sheets. The pounding is hard and unforgiving, a contradiction to the gentle look in his gaze. He holds you tight, giving you no room to shuffle under the bruise of his thrusts.

You can’t do anything but mumble his name, tongue numb in your mouth as he fucks you senseless.

“You’re dripping so much, baby. Making a mess on the sheets. You wanted my dick that bad, huh? Wanted me to fuck you full? Stuff this dirty cunt of yours?”

“J-Joon!” There’s an arch in your back, a dangerous tingle fluxing through your nerves when his mouth latches on your neck, your chests pressed against each other. Each drive into you pushes out a haggard breath, the heat into the room wrapping around your joint bodies, your arms slung over his shoulders, gripping him tight as he unravels you with his cock. Time stops, nothing punctuating the moment apart from the lewd sound of your meeting, your slick slipping from your cunt each time he hits deep. And he keeps at it, fucking you with a vigour that feels new and vicious.

You can feel him tensing beneath your fingertips, a soreness spreading through your muscles with every hard thrust of his hips into you. But you don’t care, delirious with the feeling of his cock deep within you, slamming right into that spot that has you dangling off the edge. The tight grip on your thighs adds to it, Namjoon pressing you down as he fucks you open like you’re nothing but a toy for his pleasure. He slams into you with abandon, his lips on your neck. Every drag is loud in the room, the slick pooling around your entrance orchestrating the sound of your meeting. You love how he feels over you, broad and big and pinning you down with an ease that shouldn't have you stomach twisting but it does. And he knows that, reading the whimpers that leave your throat well. You can feel it, the knot that tightens with every hard drive of him into you. So close, a blink of your eyes and you could be there. But then he slows, cock squelching against your entrance with a half-hearted thrust.

“Namjoon—" You’re burning, fingers scrambling to push his hips down, shove your hips up. Anything. Anything because if he gives you nothing you’ll implode.

“My baby is so quiet today. Hmm? Why are you so quiet? You don’t want my cum? Don’t want me to breed this tight little cunt of yours?” There’s a in his tension colouring his deep voice, like he’s holding back from saying something. You want to ask but your needs are forefront in your mind clamouring for attention.

“Joon!” He nips your neck at that whine and you dissolve into his sheets, nothing but pleasure running through your limbs. “Namjoon please, please, please. I want it, Joon, need it.”

He cocks his head, a languid roll into your core that has you squirming underneath his hold. “Need what? Words baby, words.”

“Need your cum.” It’s shameful to say and the heat in your cheeks makes it obvious, Namjoon doesn’t care, shifting his hips so that his cock slowly slips out. Your legs clamp around him so quick that his chest smacks into yours, a muffled sigh escaping into the air.

“Need it where?” He says, hips rigid with how he holds himself back. It takes tenacity to make you work for it. You feel perfect around him, tight pussy stretched around his length and your slick dripping all over. So needy, so wet, velvet walls clinging to his cock leaving him weak even though he tries to hide it. You’re intoxicating, your heat, the feeling of your body moulded into his, the way you moan his name. He wants to hear you scream it though, hear your throat go hoarse with each cry until you're a blubbering mess in his bed. There are other things he wants too, but he needs to hear you say this first.

“Inside,” you reply, a perfect whimper drifting from your bruised lips. “Inside me, Namjoon, please.”

He gives in then and there, resolve shattering when his gaze drifts to the minuscule grind of your hips against his own, his cock sinking deep with every shift of your waist upward. It’s not long until he’s sheathed back inside of you, length twitching against the heat of your walls. He wants to take it slow, make you beg for him a little more, but there’s a weight in his gut that threatens to drop. And then his focus shifts to the span of your stomach and it slams into him so quick he nearly chokes. He may joke about it as a kink, the idea of fucking you until you were bearing his child, but the actual vision of your stomach swelling hadn’t occurred in his thoughts until right then. You would look ethereal, round with evidence of his love for you. He can’t help the palm that settles there as his hips slowly rut forward, forcing himself deeper, needing to see you stretch out for him.

“Joon,” you sigh, shuddering at the press of his balls against your ass.

He hums, thoughtful, dark eyes lingering on the sway of your chest. “Yes, baby?”

“Harder, please, harder.”

“Anything my baby wants, she gets. Isn’t that right, princess.” And then he’s falling out of you, quick when he slams back down. Your voice sounds foreign to your eyes, brain roughly registering the harsh feeling of his hands as he swiftly rearranges you, cock still buried deep, until your knees are folded over his broad shoulders. The quake in your thighs is violent. But you don’t protest, mind unable to shift from the hard pistons he delivers into your cunt, thrusts demanding your release. There’s the sway of the bed beneath you, soft sheets bundling underneath the weight of your joint bodies, a heaviness in the air you breathe. He fucks you with a purpose that wasn’t there before, as if he needs to see you stuffed with his cum, unravelling around his length, a mess beneath him.

And you give it to him, shuddering when his fingertips sneak to your clit, the flickers he lands there unfaltering. That combined with the steady drag of his cock has your vision blanking, contentment spilling through your nerves as your high hits. It’s quick; a hard fast thing and spreads right from your core and through your system. Namjoon fucks you through it, swallowing your incoherent mumbling with a deft press of his lips against yours. You don’t realise you’re crying until he swipes a thumb along your cheeks, dropping a kiss on the damp skin of your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs. You don’t miss how his hips speed up, muscles tense underneath your trembling fingertips. “So pretty. My pretty girl.”

“Cum in me,” you reply, breaking away to catch his gaze. Namjoon chokes, hips faltering. You don’t let him process it, still riding high on the look colouring his features. This is what he wanted from you, and you’re drunk enough on the feeling of him deep inside of you to say it. There’s still a tremor in your walls that grips him tight and you aid it by raising your hips upwards, the bend uncomfortable but worth the darkness that consumes the brown of his eyes. A part of you wants to say it again and you do, voice low in the room. “Joon, I need you. Need to feel full.”

“Fuck me.” It’s said under his breath but you don’t miss it, stomach twisting when his cock slams into you. It’s hard and mean. Namjoon takes everything you’re giving him, folding you into his mattress and driving his hips hard enough for the bed-frame to shift, a low thud against his bedroom wall. You let him have his way, groaning into his ear, the sheen of sweat that builds on both your bare bodies glimmering under the dwindling glow of the sunlight. There’s a faint tepid heat flickering in your core and it sparks up when Namjoon lands a hard kiss on the span of your neck, moaning low as he splits you open on his cock.

“So fucking tight.” There’s a hitch in your rugged breathing, your grip on his ruined sheets fierce. “So wet. All for me. All mine. Right, baby? This is mine, isn’t it?”

“Yours,” you whisper in return, lost in the feeling of him enclosing you in. “All yours.”

His lips are soft against your own, a delicate press of his mouth that doesn’t match how hard he’s fucking you. But you revel in it, rupturing into something bright and wild and full of love underneath the piston of his hips. It’s good now, the sensitivity you felt a moment ago ebbing into nothing but heat and want. You don’t miss how he twitches against your walls, thrusts growing erratic with every lewd slam of his length inside of you. And you want it, reminding Namjoon of that fact with wicked whispers in his ear. He caves fast, a few last hard rolls before he paints your walls in his release, the moan he lets out bleeding into your skin. You’re on edge now, the feeling of Namjoon’s cum coating your cunt when you’re at peak fertility doing something stupid to your brain. It shouldn’t turn you on — in fact you should be terrified. You weren’t ready to be a parent, yet the weight of him on you, the spurt of cum that slips from your cunt when he draws again, sends your spiralling. It’s swift, the swing of your legs back around his waist.

“No — don’t, don’t move. Not yet.”

Namjoon pauses, checks still warm and his skin a pretty golden rouge. You don’t enjoy the way he reads you.

“We can’t cuddle like this. Remember what we did last time? The cockwarming?” He suggests it easily. He gets what this is doing to you even when you don’t understand it at all. You nod because the idea of Namjoon not lodged inside you sounds abhorrent. He shifts the both of you quick enough, his softening dick back to half-mast the moment your protest emerged. It’s easier like this, with you sprawled on his broad chest. You don’t want to acknowledge it but you’re still somewhat wound up and the feeling of him holding you close, your cunt stuffed full of his cum, is doing unimaginable things to your brain. You pretend it isn’t, snuggling into the valley of his massive chest, feeling safe and secure. And then Namjoon opens his mouth.

“We’re going to have to talk about this. You know that right?”

“No, we don’t have to talk about it. Ever. Pretend this never happened.”

His laughs echoes in your heart. “Baby, I just came in you and you’re ovulating. That’s fairly risky, don’t you think?”

“I told you!” You whack his arm for good measure. “I told you it was dumb.”

“But I liked it,” Namjoon continues, staring intently at the ceiling. “A lot.” You flutter, cheeks hot at his admission, a bubbling in your chest that shouldn’t be there. “And judging from how you’re using my dick to keep my cum inside of you, I’m guessing you liked it too.”

“...Maybe.” You hate it but he’s right. You liked having him use you like that, the prospect of his cum doing more than leaving you euphoric with satisfaction lingering in the depths of your mind.

“Maybe?” He scoffs, wide hand gently pushing you off his chest despite the whine you release. “Get off then, I need to check if my dick is intact. I think I saw the fifth dimension when I came.”

“Shut up, please!” You cling to your boyfriend, viciously wiggling around until you feel him twitch inside of you. It’s too nice of a feeling to lose just yet. “Why are you ruining it?”

“Why can’t you admit what you’re into? Speaking of that subject, I don’t know what your kinks really are. So far there’s been a bit more exhibitionism than I expected from you but the breeding one… is different. Not bad. Just different,” he suddenly rambles.

“Because it’s embarrassing.” Your voice is small, landing on his naked chest in the silence of his room. His hand shifts from shoving you off to gingerly resting on you back, rough fingertips languidly tracing patterns on your skin. The motion is reassuring, yet you can still hear the eye roll in his voice when he speaks.

“You’ve seen the fisting porn on my NSFW twitter, what the hell do you mean embarrassing?”

“It just is!” You protest. “I’m not sure what I’m into.”

“I think you are, you’re just not comfortable admitting it to yourself. Don’t you watch porn? Or have any particular fantasies?” Namjoon’s persistent despite your deflection and while some part of you hates it, you know he’s right. He always is — well most of the time.

“I do,” you retort instead, refusing to give him an ounce of triumph. “You know that don’t be dumb.”

“Well then,” Namjoon returns, curiosity colouring his voice, “What’s your NSFW twitter? I’ve shown you mine, let me see yours.”

“I don’t have one…”

There’s a pause, the hand on your back drawing to a halt. You can hear the cogs in his head turning.

“You don’t? What do you use then?”

“...Yours,” you whisper. The breath that falls from his lips is horrified. “I like most of the stuff you like,” you quickly tack on. Somehow this is more shameful than admitting that you like being stuffed with Namjoon’s cum. The silence carries on and you're left stewing in your thoughts, looking for a way out of this awkward mess when Namjoon starts up again, a tentativeness in his tone that concerns you.

“Most of what I like,” he says. Another pause. “... Including the fisting porn?”

“Namjoon,” you snap, “Shut up.” You can’t believe you’re allowing this man to plug his dick in you after sex, can’t believe it at all. It’s a horrible realisation to come too especially when he breaks out into a loud laugh, his chest shuffling you around with every quick intake of air and the sound of his glee resounding in your heart.

“Sorry, angel,” he offers between muffled laughs. You hate him. You do even if you love him ten times more than you hate him. “We should make you one after this,” Namjoon says. “And then get food. Sounds good with you?”

“Food first,” you retort, mellow in the arms of your lover. “And then the Twitter porn.”

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #smutcentralnet #bts x reader #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #*posts then runs away*

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