#the fucked up part is i kinda want this to be a series i write as warm ups
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so after a second watch, the thing with arcane s2 so far is that near all the plot beats are really good and exactly what i wanted, but they also almost all desperately needed more buildup. it's like we're missing 10-15 extra minutes an episode for the scenes that would really flesh out a lot of the characters' motives for the choices they make and to build up the world! it's so painfully obvious that they're craming in plot bc they're missing a season or have cut time per ep, and as a result while im ecstatic at a lot of the developments v few of them feel earned!
vi choosing to become an enforcer, her agonizing feelings re jinx in particular feel like they're missing. we should have seen the moment cait chose to use the vents to target the undercity and others' reaction to this, especially vi. it's great to see the hole silco left, but we needed to see the underground falling apart in something that's not a shiny league amv. we needed to see the kid spend more time with jinx for her choice to defend jinx to hit harder. we needed to see more of jinx's suicidality and her voices disappearing. i would have been so grateful to see mel trying to do more to rally to counter her mother's influence and being foiled at every turn. more hints of ambessa's manipulation too! would have loved to see ekko and his peers rescuing undercity people and dealing with the aftermath of the war there directly!
and like tbc i think they v clearly considered what they did have the time with and chose to trim or cut off near anything that wasnt a super cool fight scene or important plot beats. the ACTUAL beats are near all a win to me tbh! i am ecstatic about cait's character arc, her using the vents made me gasp; the mel and ambessa situation is sooooo fascinating and fucked up; i love the revelation about hextech poisoning the ground; sevika and jinx dealing with the gaping wound of silco's death is so good; viktor's ominous messiah arc is hitting for me; i loooooved cait hitting vi and vi just breaking down.
in terms of missteps, i wish ekko didnt feel like he's just being explained plot at (i like his dynamic with jayce so far tho), i think vi of all the characters suffered by far the most of the sacrificed time to make her choices and words mame proper sense, caitvi kiss felt far more like they had to kiss before they broke up but in context did not work, and made me roll my eyes so hard, we did not need a five minute cait angst montage, i did not care for how "league" the zaunite chembarons felt instead of an organic part of zaun like they did in s1, half the songs are a complete miss to me, etc etc
i dont think the season is a loss and again im interested in the actual beats, and tbh i kinda feel sorry for fortiche and the writing team bc it's obvious that this is less like, active clumsiness on their part or shite writing and far more that time was a deeply limited resource for the story they wanted to tell and they had to make choices. you could argue if it would have been better to drop some plot threads entirely and focus more deeply on others but imo it wouldnt work for a series like arcane where the cast' actions have such massive ramifications on each other so. i get it. it's just really unfortunate considering how tightly written s1's tragedy was
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i must be the only (kind of) unironic aldella shipper in this entire fandom.
(ranting in the tags)
#kotlc#kotlc aldella#kotlc vackers#kotlc della#kotlc alden#alden vacker#della vacker#aldella#does it matter that i kinda headcanon them to be slightly toxic? no no it does not thanks for asking#they could be so interesting if their relationship was explored more in-depth#and i am NOT saying it's shannon's fault that it hasn't been explored btw i am NOT blaming shannon#obviously since the story is told through sophie's eyes we only get what she sees but augh i want more#hanging my hopes on that short story collection shannon claims she'll write after the series is over#i want more of them from THEIR perspective#just! the lack of trust! the regret! the performative (imo) relationship! the strangely idealistic marriage! the emphasis on beauty!#and! the stiffness around each other! going through the motions! doing their part in the relationship but something feels off!#it's so good i need more i need them to be more fucked up i need them to be more toxic#but in the end they still love each other (or at least they think they do) but it's . . . warped (maybe they really DO love each other?)#the perfect marriage with the perfect children in the perfect family . . . will the facade last . . . and is it really even a facade#just#THEM#they need to be head over heels for each other and yet it's performative at the same time do you see the vision tell me you see the vision#they each NEED to have a side the other has never seen and nobody else has ever seen and they are each terrified of it#and don't want the other to know#because then they'll be less perfect but in reality telling each other would make them stronger do you see what i see#the two-faced-ness would make them more fucked up and less fucked up all at once because they are scared of it but it brings them closer#*shakes you* DO YOU UNDERSTAND TELL ME YOU UNDERSTAND#anyway#*scoots away from you* totally normal about aldella nothing going on here nope no siree
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Ambient
Fandom: Wednesday (2022)
AU: Wednesday and Thornhill start at Nevermore at the same time
Pairing: Wednesday/Tyler
Rating: M - Canon typical gore, violence, moral ambiguity, and Thornhill's whole vibe. Additional coarse language.
Word Count: 3,705
Status: Complete work
Notable Tag: In this household we believe the only real Tyler is screaming in his bathtub Tyler
Summary:
“My names Marilyn Thornhill.” She smiles prettily and Tyler tries to hold in the way he wants to seethe back. “Ms. Thornhill. I’m a new teacher in town, at Nevermore?” And she tilts her round doll face like it’s a question and she’s asking him to be sure.
“Oh, too bad.” Tyler feels enough relief at the fact he won’t have to be dodging this lady between all of his classes that he manages to work himself up into a vaguely retail-appropriate smile. “Not my crowd. Good luck with that though.”
It's a sleepy summer day in Jericho when Tyler meets two new Nevermore Academy residents, a teacher and a student, who come into the Weathervane throughout his shift.
Something is burning just below his skin.
#wednesday series 2022#wednesday addams x tyler galpin#wyler#weyler#fanfiction#i was supposed to be writing the novel#i was not writing the novel#the fucked up part is i kinda want this to be a series i write as warm ups#but this one is almost 4000 goddamn words#why is procrastination
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ok so i hit 30 tags pretty early so i wanted to add extra thoughts under here i am SOOO SORRY OMFG ITS SO MUCH 😭😭 GOD
attempt 1 at reading - thoughts:
i love how you wrote the nervousness and hesitation of both reader and atsumu ): this relationship feels so genuine and realistic, like every thought is so real and complex and it all just plays out soooo vividly in my head. i can literally feel every single thing in MY SOUL. it got me holding my breath, my heart racing, my stomach churning
the kiss . the first kiss where mr suna interrupted . when i tell you i read it like this >//////< EXCEPT MY HAND WAS CLASPED SO TIGHTLY OVER MY MIUTH. oh my god the reaction i had. it really felt like a first kiss all over again, i was genuinely WARM and all blushy
attempt 2 at reading - thoughts:
i loved how u wrote out the tension again .. and your characterization for all of them ?? kita being all observant? osamu being all curious ?
the emotional rollercoaster i am on in this chapter is crazy. i took my first break after suna interrupted (the kiss killed me), and im taking my second break right after atsumu confesssd (i was killed a second time). i was irritated during the cafe bc WHY r u avoiding me, and then the next second i’m like squealing 😭 the way that u write yue !! the way that u write . i am such a mess right now give me another moment
attempt 3 at reading - thoughts:
holy shit this scene . the kissing ? THE AAY YOU DESCDIBED IT from the first kiss ?? this one made my stomach FLIP omfg .
oh god the neck kisses . the .. the everything . my left leg has goosebumps idk why it’s only my left leg am i okay yue ? am i okay what’s wrong with me
i have a little ways to go i’m almost done but i need yet another break holy shit i have been reduced to a dizzy lil mess what have i become
attempt 4 at reading - thoughts:
oh my god ): oh my god ): what am i even supposed to say here. i love how u wrote the smut part ?? it feels like actual love ? he is so sweet pls
osamu interrupting had me jolting upright BECAUSE SUNA FIRST NOW OSAMU ? is kita the next victim ?? poor baby
AGHHH THE ENDING IS SO CUTE i fr feel like im in an anime ): i feel so pretty and so lovely THIS WAS SO LOVELYYY TYSMMM YUE FOR WRITING THIS
v. MISUNDERSTANDINGS
miya atsumu x f!reader
── next: vi. Epilogue: Sakura sweetness | series masterlist
synopsis: A drunken conversation with Atsumu leads to a cascade of events that has your mind practically exploding with endless questions, and with the way Atsumu has been acting, you want clear answers, and you’ll get them one way or another—even if it meant arguing in the twins’ shared apartment on a late Thursday afternoon.
chapter content warning: college au, mentions of alcohol use, intoxicated characters, cockblocker suna (rip), angst, hurt/comfort, awkward tension, atsumu & reader are dumbasses, arguing, light smut (mdni; nothing too explicit), nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, fluff towards the end yay, kita graduates from uni!, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, friends to lovers, not beta read.
word count: 6.1k
notes: AAACKKKK last chapter!! also happy 1 month to this series !! i’m surprised i got to finish this in less than 2 months lmao considering how slow i am w writing :< divider: cafekitsune.
Light. Everything felt light—your head, body, voice, heart.
It felt like all the weight of your shoulders had been lifted, and you could be as carefree as a bird soaring through cerulean skies to be one with the wind. Because right this very moment, nothing mattered at all, not even the fact that you stood before the person you’ve been trying to avoid since the new year rolled around.
Tucked neatly at the back of your mind like a silent reminder, you knew you shouldn’t trust your intoxicated self right now—whether it be your thoughts or feelings but the urge to stop wasn’t there, and you felt extremely optimistic about this—all thanks to the burning alcohol that clouded every bit of your judgement.
Everything felt right.
As you met his caramel gaze, your vision tunnelled, everyone, and everything that surrounded both of you slowly turned into nothing but a mix of hazy hues, upbeat music that spilled from the speakers fading into the distance as you, and Atsumu entered your own world—even the orange-haired male with the bright, doe eyes melted away from your view.
Just you, and Atsumu, exactly how it was supposed to be.
With a bated breath, Atsumu wordlessly nodded, and awaited your next move, as if shackled in a hazy trance. He was fully aware of the thundering heartbeat that rang in his ears, the way his slender fingers ever so slightly dug into the scarlet plastic cup in his hand, cheeks burning with unexplainable emotions.
“Let’s talk somewhere else.”
It took all the effort for Atsumu to ignore the feeling of your bare skin against his, the searing touch of your fingers around his wrist as you hurriedly whisked him away into the intimate space of their kitchen, as if to shield you both from everyone else’s prying eyes. Despite a stained judgement, the blonde was sure no one gave a single damn if you were to talk it out in the living room, everyone was in their own buzz anyway.
Nonetheless, Atsumu let you take the lead, whatever you wanted, he obliged. As though he was floating on cloud nine, his body became lighter with each step taken, head lightly spinning, warmth that radiated from your palm seeped into his flushed skin, prickly, miniature kisses engulfing his body.
“I’m okay now.” Resting your lower back against the ivory granite countertops, you stare up at Atsumu through your lashes, not noticing your lingering fingers curled around his wrist. For a brief moment, your breath hitched, stomach churning at the sight before you. The lighting behind Atsumu made him look like absolute heaven, flaxen strands glowing like the first rays beneath the warm illuminant, casting an ethereal halo at the back of his head. It didn’t help how he stared down as if your eyes held the cosmos in them, completely awestruck.
Whatever, you chalked it up to his intoxicated state. What else could it have been?
For a brief moment, Atsumu wracked his brain for context behind your words, and as the invisible lightbulb atop his head switched on, he was reminded of the situation at hand. It definitely pulled his consciousness into sobriety. Just a tad bit.
“A-are y’sure?” A breathless, almost dainty whisper slipped past his rosy lips. He took note of the way your gaze shifted ever so slightly downwards, eyes crudely lingering on the plush of his bottom lip as his tongue briefly swiped against it.
Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobbed at your not-so-subtle stare, stomach churning with want. He knew this feeling all too well—it visited him whenever he was alone in his room, mind wandering over to thoughts of you which filled every corner of his mind; sometimes the feeling was too strong, other times he could bear it. Tonight, though, Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was immune to this feeling, let alone erase any impulsive thoughts from his intoxicated mind.
What pulled you into this decision was something you’d never figure out; maybe it was the fact that your yearning heart grew tired of the icy distance between the two of you or maybe you’ve truly come to terms with his unreciprocated feelings—you didn’t know. All you knew was that nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations, especially when it involved feelings. But this could be an exception, right?
“So . . Does that mean we can be friends again?”
It was weird. Atsumu’s voice brimmed with a sense of hope—as if he’s been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks—but the strange glint in his caramel eyes betrayed the blonde entirely.
Despite your better judgement, you chalked it up to the warm light that casted a soft shadow upon his features; maybe you were too dizzy to see things clearly, or maybe you were looking too deep into Atsumu’s expression—hoping to find some sort of sadness upon hearing your decision to move on, and accept his rejection.
Atsumu watched as your eyes traced his features, closely observing them as if to find some kind of answer; as selfish as it seemed, the intensity in your eyes gave him a tinge of hope that perhaps you could let yourself pine over him just a little longer because he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the knowledge that your heart would no longer yearn for him.
The situation was a double-edged sword, really.
You let out a puff of breath, “Yeah, of course. We’re friends again.” Friends. That word should have given you more relief than sorrow but could you really blame yourself? It felt like a bitter reminder of cold rejection which resembled salt pressed against an unhealed wound, a searing itch that left your skin feverish.
Even if it meant selling yourself short.
Avoiding his eye contact, you swiftly unwound your fingers from his wrist, mentally cursing yourself for not noticing any sooner. A cold embrace engulfed Atsumu’s wrist, where your fingers were mere seconds ago, he tried his best to ignore how his body yearned for your warmth. He gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
For a moment, you stood in each other’s silence like two predators sizing up one another, eagerly waiting for one’s move before pouncing, the silent hum of the fridge making up for the lack of conversation between one another.
How strange, this agreement should have cleared the unsettled air between you, and Atsumu but why did it feel like the complete opposite? As if the air turned into something more uncertain. You both knew you could feel the uncanny tension rising up, up, up but not one dared to address it.
Swiftly burying it under the rug, Atsumu spoke, thinly slicing through your trance, “You’ll find someone better.”
God, he must’ve really matured this new year because he didn’t know how he was able to say that straight to your face. Being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, this was completely foreign for Atsumu—or maybe he just got better at masking his true emotions.
You closed your eyes upon hearing his response, as if doing so would help you brave the weight of his words. It didn’t. That was the last thing you wanted Atsumu to say to you, ‘someone better’, it was brazen of him to think so poorly of himself, as though he wasn’t that certain someone. It was entirely unfair on your end because who was Atsumu to determine which person was for you?
Even just thinking about it had you fuming, rejection was one thing but completely disregarding the reason behind your feelings for him was another because in your eyes, Miya Atsumu was that ‘someone better’; he was the one who understood you the most, the one who always looked out for you, the one you fucking wanted.
And despite your mind telling you to nod along, and suck it up, the alcohol in your body was stronger; so, you opened your eyes, and furrowed your brows at him,
Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.
“But I don’t want anyone better, Tsumu. I want you.”
Atsumu’s eyes widened, the desperation in your voice was something he hadn't heard before, it definitely pulled at his heart, guilt gnawing at his skin for being the sole reason for your drunken actions. He may be drunk but he wasn’t stupid, Atsumu knew you should’ve kept that one to yourself, he could practically see you brimming with temerity but he’d be lying to himself if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat or two.
I want you, too. God, he wanted to say it back badly. The words were lodged in his throat, unable to slip past his lips despite the best efforts to do so.
It dawned on him—right then, and there—the severity of your feelings for him, the immense weight of it. Now, guilt really ate him away; he could only imagine how the past two weeks were for you. Did you cry while thinking about him?
That was the last thing Atsumu wanted.
Though, amidst the guilt, something else blossomed in his chest, it made him feel like he stood upon the highest pedestal. Atsumu didn’t know whether it was pride or greed; as fucked up as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to push the impulsiveness away as though you’ve infected him with your own. His heart hammered at a thought that formed in his mind, even just thinking about it stirred his chest.
Despite Atsumu’s better judgement, he held onto the feeling with a tight grip, and opened his mouth, tongue nervously swiping at the bottom lip,
Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.
“Is . . Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”
You sucked in a breath, heart pounding at Atsumu’s sudden confession. If you were sober, you’d have a million thoughts racing through your mind right now, questioning the feelings he really had for you but unfortunately, only one thing was on your mind—how badly you wanted to kiss Atsumu too.
Dragging yourself further down, down, down the void of uncertainty, you shook your head in a daze,
Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.
“What if I say I want to kiss you, too?”
Barely audible but Atsumu heard it just fine over the pounding of his heart, over the incoherent conversations beyond this kitchen, over the muted bass music because as long as it's you, he’d always listen, even if it meant drowning out the entire world.
Then, there was a heartbeat, a passing second, a dip of a finger to test undisturbed waters; the funny thing was that even a minute disturbance could cause a ripple effect for miles, and miles, awakening the dormant creatures that lay beyond the azure surface.
It was swift, as though Atsumu had been waiting for this very moment to happen—one second you were locked in a trance, the next his lips were pressed against your own, a shared warmth of intimacy searing both bodies in an eternal blaze like a blue flame that dangerously destroyed everything in its path.
Shy. Warm. Soft. Rosy. Like it was meant to be. The list could go on, and on but it was as though your thoughts came quickly before your mind could register them, leaving you in a white, empty haze. With the plastic cups long forgotten on the counter behind, you closed your eyes as Atsumu’s body eagerly pressed against yours, strong arms coming up to rest on the granite countertop behind you, fingers digging into the material to ground himself.
For a moment, everything was still, lips unmoving against each other, a time to bask in this newfound intimacy—the foreignness of one another’s body. The earth felt like it spun on its axis way faster than usual, as if day, and night merged to become one; hues of late dusk, and early dawn intertwined like your bodies.
Bitterness from Atsumu’s rosy lips lingered on your own; you never liked the taste of beer but oddly enough, you didn’t mind it at all.
Your hands cupped Atsumu’s jaw, fingers gently digging onto his soft skin, eager for more as your lips moulded together. Slowly moving his mouth against your own, you followed suit to match the sensual pace he had set, falling deeper, and deeper between the hazy boundaries of friendship, and something a little more. Low whimpers slipped past between each feverish kiss as a drunken greed gradually controlled your bodies.
The initial softness of the kiss dissipated as each second passed, slowly turning into something more carnal, and passionate—breaths becoming heavier, and faces eagerly pressed against one another, angled in a way to grant more access.
Was this what cloud nine felt like? Exhilarating? Euphoric? As though there was no one else—
“Oh!—Holy shit. Did I interrupt?”
A familiar voice violently pulled you, and Atsumu back into reality, swiftly jumping away from each other’s hold, and looking over to the owner of the voice. Suna. The brunette stared at both of you—looking like a deer caught in headlights, chests heaving—his expression was unreadable, almost like a mix of shock, and amusement. You, and Atsumu kissing in the kitchen was absolutely not in his new year bingo card.
Well, this encounter certainly was enough to strip you into sobriety.
Your head spun a little, lungs severely deprived of oxygen. Shame, and realisation settled deep in your bones—shame because Suna just caught you, and Atsumu almost sucking the soul out of each other, and realisation because everything about this whole situation was so wrong; a million questions formulated in your mind as each awkward second passed.
On the other hand, Atsumu was equally as horrified, albeit annoyed that he didn’t have the chance to kiss you longer. The thrumming of his heart pounded in his ears, his mind trying to come up with anything to say just to stop the thoughts formulating in Suna’s mind—oh, he knows that look on his friend’s face very well.
Your view became obstructed by the expanse of Atsumu’s back, a subtle attempt to block you from the brunette’s gaze.
“W-what the hell, Suna?! Don’t jus’ barge into the kitchen, ya scrub!” Atsumu tried his best to act tough but miserably failed with the shakiness in his voice betraying him.
As if to make matters worse, Suna didn’t back down, a smug look painted on his flushed face as the blonde shamelessly blamed him,
“Well, how was I supposed to know that you two were sucking each other’s faces in the kitchen?!”
Did he have to word it like that?
Atsumu opened, and closed his mouth, trying to think of ways to deny Suna’s accusations but his mind went blank, even with just the brunette mentioning your kiss had him blushing like a mad man. Silence yet again occupied the kitchen, low bass music spilled from the speakers, and incoherent chatters from beyond the space making up for the lack of conversation.
Before the situation could get even more awkward, you spoke up, “I . . think I’m just going to go . . ” This gained both their attention, carefully watching as you navigated past Atsumu, and out the kitchen.
The blonde watched as you staggered past him, and Suna; he wanted to go after you, and talk about what just happened but the soles of his feet stayed rooted on the ground, too heavy to lift, even the words he wanted to say were lodged in his throat.
So, Atsumu decided it was best to let you go.
Monday.
Everyone’s enemy but also a day to gather around the campus coffee shop with friends, and be productive for a while. The calming aroma of coffee engulfed your senses; low chatter from other customers, faint jazz music, and the occasional hum of the coffee machine filled the table from the lack of conversation. Despite the café’s light ambience, it didn’t do much to hide the growing tension that surrounded the group, specifically you, Atsumu, and Suna.
Kita was the first to notice the subtle shift of aura that emanated from you three, especially after catching a glimpse of Suna’s narrow eyes trailing from you to Atsumu over his laptop screen; though, he had much more things to worry about than to indulge himself in whatever tomfoolery this was. He’d ask questions later.
On the other hand, Osamu was more than curious, especially after his older twin started acting out of character—Atsumu wasn’t one to engulf himself in thoughts to the point where he’d be staring at an inanimate object, in a complete daze but lately, Osamu has seen him behave as such.
The latter could practically feel the weight of awkwardness pressing against his skin as he subtly watched the three of you. Of course, he did his best to pry off information from the blonde only to no avail; Osamu didn’t know why Suna was even caught up in this but he suspected it was from the party a few days ago.
He remembered seeing you stumble out of the kitchen when he was on his way to grab more drinks from their fridge, the younger twin thought nothing of it until he was met with Suna, and Atsumu awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Normally, Osamu would’ve asked questions that night but the alcohol in him couldn’t care less about the situation.
Staring at the untouched document pulled up on your laptop, you ducked behind your screen to avoid Suna’s wandering gaze, and Osamu’s not-so-subtle curiosity. This was hell. You didn’t even know why you decided to turn up today after that shit show at the party—maybe because you thought you could shove down that memory especially after telling Atsumu that you were fine or maybe you craved the closeness you two once had, and now you were here to rebuild that.
As easy as it sounded, you feared it might not be so with the way Atsumu has been avoiding you like the plague. First, it started when you walked into the café at the same time as the twins, Osamu greeted you at the door before heading inside leaving you, and Atsumu outside. Now, that would’ve been fine if the latter didn’t make a show of taking a couple of steps back to let you go first as though you carried some kind of incurable disease.
The second time was when Atsumu realised the only vacant seat was next to your own, thus, asking to swap with Osamu just so he could sit farthest away from you. And the third was when you had asked him if he was alright while waiting in line to order only to be met with a mindless nod before returning to his phone in his hand.
You tried your very best to ignore the blooming pain in your chest; sure, being sad about Atsumu possibly avoiding you was reasonable but then again, you were the one who told him you were okay now—how Atsumu decided to act after the party was beyond your control.
God but it pissed you off. Swallowing one’s pride, and making effort to rekindle a cold friendship was not an easy feat when the other doesn’t do the same. It shouldn’t work you up this much but it did, and now you were second guessing yourself that maybe it was an irrational decision to abruptly tell Atsumu that you’ve come to terms with moving on.
That night at the party, were you lying to yourself just so you could be around him again?
Whatever. It was too late to take it back anyway.
The days ahead were monotonous, and boring; you, and Atsumu remained orbiting around one another, careful not to get into each other’s path of trajectory but it was tiring. Not only did it feel like navigating through eggshells while he was around but the constant questions from your friends tested your limits. Though, it wasn’t their fault for simply being curious, and getting left in the dark about the whole situation but the prying felt like endless jabs of sharp needles along your skin.
From their point of view, you, and Atsumu were stubborn about the whole situation. None dared to speak up about it, acting as though everything was fine, so your friends were left with very little to work with.
It felt like a game of cat, and mouse where you were the feline chasing Atsumu around. The longer the days dragged on, the more thoughts formulated in your mind, and they all involved the blonde in some way or another. And just like everyone else, you had your limits too; you were tired of Atsumu acting like a stubborn idiot.
When you confessed to Atsumu, sure, you expected an awkward phase but this was even worse. There wasn’t just distance between the two of you, it felt like you were strangers.
He was known for brashly saying the sharp truth, so why couldn’t he be straightforward with you? Was he disgusted by the kiss, and deeply regretted it? Did he think you were weird? You didn’t know, but you were bound to find out even if it meant knocking at the twin’s apartment door at 5:45 PM on a cold, rainy Thursday.
With the sun hidden behind the looming grey clouds, the late winter afternoon was even darker; the roads were packed with vehicles while the sidewalks occupied students, and company workers alike trying their best to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. Despite the streets being illuminated with a tinge of warm yellow from cars, and streetlights, it did nothing to brighten up the gloomy day.
Funny, it was as though the universe knew how you felt today.
“If yer lookin’ for ‘Samu, he won’t be back until 8 PM.” Greeted with Atsumu’s shocked face as the ivory door to their apartment opened, you couldn’t help but visibly roll your eyes at his stubbornness. Yeah, like you’d be here at their apartment looking for Osamu—you knew each of their timetables like the back of your hand.
Flaxen strands that sat atop his head were unruly, a sign that he must’ve been taking a nap sometime ago. Atsumu donned a light blue hoodie paired with black sweats; you tried your best not to ogle the man, after all, you were here for a sensible talk.
“I’m here for you, Miya.”
Atsumu gripped the metal handle a little tighter, the coolness of it seeping into the warmth of his skin. He tried not to flinch at the sudden formality of the conversation. Nonetheless, the blonde pulled the door wider, a wordless invite to their humble space. Giving him a small smile before walking inside, you tried not to think about the last time you were here, and how you found yourself drunkenly kissing Atsumu in their kitchen.
The sound of the door closing shut behind Atsumu reverberated throughout the walls of their apartment, followed by a deafening silence. Met with his honeyed stare, you awkwardly coughed, and played with the hem of your jacket, “I’m not going to take up too much of your time . . but I do just have one question.”
There was a momentary silence as Atsumu waited for you to proceed; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, and it took all his willpower to hold them back, and let you speak instead. It was getting harder, and harder to focus as each second passed with the pounding of his heart—Atsumu didn’t know what to expect.
“Did you—Did you regret that kiss . . ?”
Your skin burned as the question lingered in the air, a beat or two before Atsumu finally spoke up, “. . N-no, why’d ya ask?”
Sighing, impatience prickled your feverish skin. ‘Why’d you ask?’ What the hell does he mean by why would I ask? We made out for fuck sake, that’s something friends don’t do! Why is he acting so casual about it?
“God, this just made it a lot worse. I have so many fucking questions that my mind wants to explode right now,” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you slowly paced back, and forth, the floors beneath silently creaking with each step. So, Atsumu didn’t regret the kiss but he’s acting like you’re strangers—fucking hell, why did he even kiss you in the first place?!
Your mind was a complete mess.
Trying to calm yourself down with slow, deep breaths, you decided to address the elephant in the room first, “Then why have you been avoiding me, Atsumu?—I’m sorry but I’m the one who got rejected, I cannot think of any reason why you should be avoiding me like this.” Atsumu hated that look on your face—the desperation, the sadness, the frustration. He never thought that he’d be the one making you feel all these negative emotions, and it pained him as much as it pained you.
Atsumu let out a sigh, carefully formulating the right words into a coherent sentence, “I’m just . . trying to be careful, okay?” His stomach dropped as your face contorted with more confusion.
Did he say something wrong?
“Careful about what, Atsumu?! You—ugh! It’s so hard to talk to you when you’re giving me all these stupidly vague answers! I’ve already told you I was fine. I don’t care anymore that you don’t like me back. I just want us to be back to normal again.”
Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to be upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on so quickly, and that’s why he’s been acting distant lately; it annoyed him how easy it was for you to talk to him like nothing happened but Atsumu knew he couldn’t tell you the reason—why couldn’t you just try, and understand his situation? Rejecting wasn’t an easy task to do, especially if it was the person he had been hopelessly pining for.
“Well—maybe things aren’t meant ta back ta normal!”
What?
You stared at him for a second, brows furrowed as you tried to comprehend his words that lingered in the cold air of their apartment. Silence engulfed the two of you, the distant sounds of Hyōgo’s late afternoon rain seeping through the slightly opened window.
“Do you feel uncomfortable around me after knowing the fact that I have feelings for you? Is that it?” “God, no—I could never feel that way.”
It took all of Atsumu’s patience not to wrap his arms around you—he wanted to hold you against him badly; that defeated look on your face broke his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe Atsumu was the coward after all.
“Then tell me what’s wrong, ‘Tsumu!”
“It’s hard f’me as well, y’know?!” “What is?”
Atsumu closed his eyes, the words he’s been wanting to scream at the top of his lungs lodged in his throat, threatening to slip out. A wave of adrenaline rush coursed through his veins, heart pounding like crazy with this newfound high, it made him feel as though he was invincible—as if he could say anything, and everything without a care for its consequences.
Fuck it.
“Fuck—It’s because I like ya back, okay?! I always have! And rejectin’ ya was so goddamn hard f’me because I’m still not over ya. God, I think about ya every single second, and it pains me so much because yer already movin’ on, and ‘m still stuck here.”
What?
Flabbergasted, you stared at Atsumu all wide-eyed, the thrumming of your heart becoming increasingly loud against your ears as each slow second passed. Did he just say he liked you back? As though mother nature was watching, the rain outside poured harder; sounds of droplets of heavy water against the roof filled the silent apartment, pulling you back into reality.
“Then why—If you feel the same way then why did you reject me?”
When you knocked on the door to the twins’ apartment, you expected a sincere conversation with Atsumu, not him confessing his feelings out of the blue. You were absolutely speechless—you didn’t know whether to jump for joy because he actually does like you back or whether to massage your temples from pure confusion.
“Back then during the trip, ya told me ya weren’t ready for a relationship yet, and that ya only wanted ta confess ta get rejected n’ move on. I wanted ta respect yer decision, so . .”
Flashbacks of said conversation from the trip quickly came into mind, and how you told Atsumu about not being ready for a relationship yet.
Oh.
Oh.
The weight of frustration from your shoulders slowly dissipated, the pent up annoyance you held in your heart was gone too. Suddenly, you weren’t so frustrated anymore after learning about the whole truth behind the situation. You were able to breathe better with the bad air finally cleared between you, and Atsumu.
Looking at it now, you felt absolutely silly. The whole situation turned out to be one big misunderstanding, it was almost laughable—now, you truly understood the essence of communication is key.
You let out a humourless laugh, “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Taking a few steps toward the blonde, you leaned your forehead against his chest, a hand coming up to curl into a fist to lightly hit it; a faint scent of his musky cologne lingered on the fabric of his hoodie, effectively invading your senses. Atsumu didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your body flush against his before resting his chin on the crown of your head.
For a beat or two, you, and Atsumu remained in each other’s hold, basking in the cosy atmosphere.
“Would I be more stupid if I tell ya I want ta pick up where we left off at the party?”
Before you knew it your lips were sealed in a searing kiss—this time, it felt raw, all things passionate, and eager. Hands impatiently roaming each other’s unexplored bodies, sounds of wet kisses slowly filling up the apartment. The atmosphere shifted from cosy to something more sensual, light groans, and moans slipping in between each kiss.
Your hands rested on Atsumu’s golden strands, fingers gently tugging at it as he worked his lips down the column of your neck, teeth lightly nipping at the feverish skin. Atsumu focused on a certain spot just below your ear, nipping, and sucking at it which pulled a dainty whine from your lips.
“‘T-Tsumu—Ah!” You gasped, his tongue leaving trails of goosebumps beneath its sinful licks against your skin. He cursed under his breath, the dizzying tone of your voice awakening the slumbering carnal beast that resided in his core. With each dulcet moan that slipped past your swollen lips, Atsumu became greedier, he wasn’t going to settle for mere kisses on your skin—he needed to hear more.
Pulling away from your intoxicating scent, Atsumu looked down at you with parted lips, and hooded eyes, caramel gaze clouded with nothing but pure desire. “I think we should take this ta my room.” He panted.
Nodding at his proposal, hurried footsteps padded over to his room as though each second wasted was crucial. As soon as the door behind Atsumu slammed shut, his lips were on yours once again, strong hands deftly working on the layers of clothing you wore, slowly slipping them off of you one by one; Atsumu could practically feel himself shaking with nervousness, and excitement.
Discarding your top on the wooden floor beneath, Atsumu stared wide-eyed at your torso, both hands coming up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra, earning a low moan from you. The air of the room felt cold against your skin but Atsumu’s touch was enough to ignite you.
“So beautiful . .” He absent-mindedly gasped, a lovestruck look in his honeyed eyes.
Hands eagerly tugging at the hem of his hoodie, Atsumu swiftly pulled the fabric off his torso in one movement, golden strands tousled from the action. Goosebumps formed upon his sun kissed skin, bare torso met with the cold winter air; your eyes raked Atsumu’s physique up, and down, shamelessly ogling his muscled chest in all its naked glory. God, you used to just fantasise about this, and now it was served right in front of you on a silver platter.
You decorated each other’s skin with endless love bites, sinful hues of dark red, and purple peppered along your chest, and neck. Atsumu took his sweet time to savour every bit of you—your taste, your scent, your sounds, everything. He made sure to bask in your serene beauty, the gentle glow of your bare figure before utterly devouring you like a starved animal, ravaging your purity with carnal desire.
Atsumu let himself go at the raw intimacy of your bodies, the feeling of your sweet warmth brought tears of pleasure in his eyes as he pushed, and pushed towards the newfound ecstasy you both shared. The chant of his name slipped past your lips like a sinful melody, mere fuel to the relentless drive of his hips. But Atsumu held you dearly against his naked body through it all, fingers intertwined with your own as he keenly chased both your pleasures, choked out moans of your name whispered hotly against your sensitive skin.
And as you both tipped over the edge, Atsumu didn’t fail to tell you how much he loved you in between each pathetic moan as he painted your insides white, the dizzying pleasure contorting his handsome face in pure ecstasy. You held him in your arms, nails digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, whispering saccharine praises to him as you let go, and emptied the words of your heart.
As the gentle aftermath of the passionate exchange rolled around, Atsumu held you in his arms, hearts beating as one, and lulling you both to sleep. The last thing you heard was a faint ‘I love you’ before passing out from exhaustion.
“‘Tsumu, what did ya want for—Oh my god! What the fuck?!”
A familiar voice abruptly pulled you, and Atsumu out of your sleep, followed by the loud bang of his door slamming shut. Muffled expletives from outside the room could be heard as you both stirred beneath the ivory sheets. “‘Tsumu, what the hell?! Ya should’ve warned me before I went into yer room!” Osamu yelled from the other side of the door.
Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face before turning to the door, “Shut yer trap! Ya should’ve knocked!” At his twin’s silence, he let out a sigh, and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body before closing his eyes once again.
You let out a soft chuckle, “We really need to stop getting caught. First, Suna, and now Osamu.” Atsumu hummed in response, too sleepy to even think or form a coherent sentence. Snuggling closer to him, you closed your eyes, and went back to sleep as well.
Oh, you could get used to this.
Winter slowly turned into spring as March rolled around—the end of the academic year.
Trees that were once bare slowly blossomed with flowers, hues of yellows, and browns were replaced with endless greenery, and frigid air became more welcoming like a warm embrace. Most importantly, the cold distance between you, and Atsumu no longer existed, instead, it was replaced by fluttering heartbeats, and fluffy moments that hinted at a sweet forevermore.
“There he is! How does it feel to be a fresh graduate!” Suna whistled as Kita walked over to the group, clad in a black academic gown with a matching trencher propped neatly on his head, the golden tassel on the cap swayed with every step taken; he donned a warm smile, one hand holding his well-deserved degree.
The buzz of excitement outside the venue was high, the graduation ceremony having finished just a few minutes ago. You were all surrounded by graduands, all with heartfelt smiles on their faces as they conversed with family, and friends alike.
As your friends fell into a merry conversation, a warm hand interlaced with your own, giving your hand a comfortable squeeze. Atsumu. Looking up at your boyfriend, he cheekily leaned into your ear, whispering an ‘I love you’ before slowly blinking at you, mirroring a cat’s action. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his antics.
“Are you two lovebirds done, now?” Suna coughed, pulling you back into reality.
Met with amused expressions plastered on your friends’ faces, you, and Atsumu returned a sheepish smile before joining in their conversation. “Anyway, we were talkin’ about how we should celebrate Kita’s graduation. It can also serve as a treat for us for makin’ it through another academic year.” Osamu explained, earning a hum of approval from you, and Atsumu.
“How about a spring trip to Kyoto?” —
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tags: @ushijimaschubbs @tsumudoll @startlitsawamura @littlemiyastars @h3art-ablaz3 @eggyrocks @integers @rrosiitas @food8me @schelamski @honeytwo @nyaaa-cat @cherribxio @aloesstuff @bontensh0e @willshebloved @yogurtkags @hyori2 @hibernatinghamster @theepitomeofswag @yawnjjunz @animesimpingismyjob @acowboykisser @rntrsuna @rjreins @prodhyuka @loonalockley @cheesypuffkins87 @kos-misch @iluvaquaphor @stunie @cathyket @empress-pug-pug @plutoxxxworld @sunawhore @jaegerfiles
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© atsumou 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my header.
#.recs#s.haikyuu#this is going to be a LONG set of tags bc i know ima have sm to say. i did reread the last ch to put myself in tears again to fit the mood#vision tunneling when atsumu is there is so cute btw ): everything becoming background noise when he’s there ? also u write so pretty.#‘it took all the effort for atsumu to ignore the feeling of ur bare skin against his’ THAT ENTIRE SENTENCE FUUCK pretty ))):#‘so .. does that mean we can be friends again?’ no. date me . DATe. MEEEEEE. PLEASEEEEE#‘a searing itch that left your skin feverish’ yes i remember being in tears last chapter i remember it so vividly . my heart was shattered#ok the small smile after we move our fingers from his actually made me physically react idk why i pictured that 1 so clearly in my head but#‘i want you.’ ‘did you cry thinking about him?’ YEAH. YEAH I WAS CRYING IM TEARING UP RN JUST THINKING ABIUT CRYING PLS DATE ME PLS 😭😭😭😭😭PL#THE WAY I JJST GOT SHIVERS AG THE KISS. OH HOW IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT. IM ACTUALLY LIKE D: W A HORRENDOUS BLUSH RN OMG IM So WARM#god FUCKING DAMMIT SUNA FUUUUUCKKKKK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU#ok atsumu shielding us makes me feel some kinda way but also suna u asshole ‘how was i supposed to know u two were sucking each other’s fac#kita ? tomfoolery?? that’s so silly that made me giggle hehe 😭 he’s such a mood btw i love him#ATSUMU. u want to sit the FURTHEST AWAY FROM ME ? what do u think i have cooties ???? i kissed YOU so that means u have cooties too u GOOF#the gloomy rainy day. tying that in to how we feel. god yue you know to make my head explode (compliment)#‘if you’re looking for samu’ ???? did i hear you correctly ?? did i ??????? i don’t think so. u are testing me mr atsumu#‘miya.’ YEAH TELL HIM WHATS UP !!! (i am also ogling . sweats .. messy hair …. geez….)#atsumu you. YOU. you didn’t regret it !? so why r we not kissing rn . why am i calling you miya rn if u didn’t regret it. U TEL#YOU TELL ME. omg he did tell me. oh my eyes r in fact widening oh i am in fact blushing oh this is really something omg omg omg :’)#LIGHT GROANS AND MOANS SLIPPING? This is .. THIS IS … YUE … IM SO !!!! IM#THE TEETH NIPPING AT THE NECKKK GOD I AM ACTUALKY FEVERISH IM ACTUALKY TURNING ON MY FAN RN WTFFFF WTF WTF WTFMSMS#MOANING HIS NAME AND TYHEN HIM CURSING HNDER HIS BREATH PLS I JJST GOT ANITHER SHIVER DOWN MY SPINE#OGLING HIS MUSCLED CHEST YES I AM WHHHWEWWWWWWWW GOD#a faint i love you before falling asleep pls this is so soft. also this scene killed me i am a mess now i have no words#OSAMU ? THe door Slamming SHUT LMAO? OMFGGG WE KEEO GETTING CAUGHT FR#replaced by fluttering heartbeats ): oh no more tears for me yay!!! i can finally experience happiness now#YAYY CONGRATS KITA. omfg the last sentence yue this was fr so perfect i love you so much how am i reading this for free#oh i am so in love with this series oh my god ?? every chapter was so beautifully written im just in awe#the pacing the everything was so perfect . it all felt#i literally love them all. i love every part of this sm i mean it :’( this was such an awesome read fuck what do i do now (i hit 30 tags☹️)
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FIC RECS
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
hey so it took a while for me to post another fic recommendations but I’m back!!
ABBY ANDERSON
my wait is you by @dollaches
abby x fem reader
content: pillow princess reader!, closeted abby, face sitting, porn with plot (my favorite), kinda eager abby. It was so good, honestly I haven’t enjoyed a fic this much in months.
not just anyone’s by @aouiaa
content: mean! abby, fingering (reader! receiving), oral (reader receiving), jealous abby, angst, doctor abby (love this trope), kinda dark content. 10/10 I read it every once in a while.
good luck babe! by @studioghibelli
content: reader’s boyfriend cheats on her with abby (abby didn’t know and was in the closet back then but now she’s a lesbian), cheating (but it’s on a man so it doesn’t count lol), strap on.
bad communication with rich! abby by @beforeimdeceased
content: angst, miscommunication (obviously lol), fake dating, femme! reader, it’s a concept but it’s so good I loved it, wish the writer made it a series.
abby so needy to fuck you by @k1ngpin42
content: THIS FIC made me realize that I have a thing for dominant women being needy lmao, needy abby (obviously), pillow princess! reader.
passionate sex with abby by @mystellenia
content: this is smut but honestly it’s so sweet and wholesome lmao I’m obsessed, pillow princess reader!
ELLIE WILLIAMS
baby no attachment by @anchoeritic
content: angst, friends with benefits, fuckgirl! ellie, pillow princess! reader.
welcome to the party by @lovelettersfromluna
content: toxic! ellie, kinda dark content, top! ellie, bottom! reader, it has two parts, ANGST, brother’s best friend! ellie, enemies to lovers (but it’s just ellie hating the reader lol), jealous! ellie, dry humping, fingering and oral (reader receiving).
selfish by @lonelyfooryouonly
content: ellie doesn’t like you but after she makes you a favor you both get closer, dealer! ellie, mean! ellie, you’re friends with ellie’s friends, this is a series and is so good, smut, top! ellie, bottom! reader, angst.
candy crush by @s-4pphics
content: grumpy x sunshine, mean! ellie, angst, reader is a baker.
romance is dead by @diddiqueen
content: PLEASE read this series, it’s so good. angst, mean! ellie, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage (reader is forced to be engaged to ellie’s brother).
like I want you by @loaksky
content: one sided pining, not actually unrequited love, reader is in love with ellie and ellie is oblivious, friends to lovers, angst.
the infinite space between you and I by @loaksky
content: mean! ellie, grumpy x sunshine, not actually unrequited love, angst.
unwanted attention by @les4elliewilliams
content: enemies to lovers, angst, coworkers, ellie doesn’t know she’s in love with reader so she’s mean lol.
already over by @elliesbelle
content: trying to get over ex! ellie but ending up being fucked by her, pillow princess! reader, angst.
ellie shows you who you belong to by @bonewreath
content: jealous! ellie, roommates to lovers, femme! reader, friends with benefits, pillow princess! reader, smut, reader tries to go on a date and ellie gets possessive lol.
campus escapades by @leiswxrld
content: strangers to lovers, top ellie, bottom reader, college au, piercer! ellie (as a dyslexic girlie who’s english is not her first language, you have no idea how hard it was for me to learn how to write the word piercer lol)
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
you have no idea how much I exposed myself with this recommendations lmao, it’s so obvious I don’t do anything other than read fanfiction omg now im embarrassed.
follow me for more fic recs
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
#ellie williams x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#wlw imagine#wlw fiction#wlw yearning#wlw community#wlw smut#abby anderson fic#abby x you#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x reader#abby anderson#wlw fanfic#lesbian#bisexual
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chase and attract
summary: your best friend decides to fulfil yet another one of your freaky shared fantasies... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: cnc/primal play, chasing in a forest, public indecency but there are no witnesses, fingering, finger-sucking, doggystyle, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, reader wants to use the safeword but doesn't, reader experiences subdrop, insecurities, crying, aftercare, pet names, the word daddy is mentioned but after they're done having sex, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: hello hello, this is the second part of my wolf & bunny series, i think i'll write one more to tie up the loose ends 🤍 part one & part three word count: 1.7k
After a number of discussions and precautions, you and Chan are finally ready to embark on your next sexscapade. He's reassured you multiple times that he knows the forest well enough that you won't get lost and as a safety measure, he brought a compass and his phone. You purposefully leave yours in his car to further heighten the feeling of danger you two had in mind.
“Are you ready?” Chan asks you gently.
“Kinda. I'm really nervous, Chris,” you confess, your hands shaking in your lap as you are still sitting in the passenger seat.
“Remember that you can stop this at any moment, right?” he reminds you sweetly.
“I know that,” you sigh. “But I want this, I really do.”
“Okay, then, there's nothing to be nervous about. You know I'll keep you safe. Always, yeah?”
You nod, trusting him completely, despite how insane this whole thing might sound to a stranger. You are fully aware that Chan has your best interest at heart.
“I'll give you a five-minute headstart this time,” he sets the timer on his phone. “Ready, set...go!”
You dash out of his car faster than ever and speed through the forest. You've got this. Last time your stupid legs gave out due to being in a box for too long but now you've trained for this moment for a week and you feel confident enough that you'll have a blast. Sure, you know that the point of this game is for Chan to eventually catch you. And boy, do you look forward to that moment. But the more you run, the more your heart will jump out, the more thrilled you feel.
You begin to lose track of time as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. Have five minutes already passed? You don't hear Chan's footsteps so either he hasn't started chasing you yet or he's going in another direction. Whatever the explanation, you keep running even though you're beginning to lose your breath. How much longer? You still don't hear him and you are in desperate need of a break. You should have brought a bottle of water. But carrying something like that would only slow you down. You're thinking too much again. You just want him to catch you already and fuck you until you can no longer think. Truly the best feeling in the world.
Finally, you hear leaves rustling. You don't hear his voice but you know he's getting near. Shit, what if it's someone else? No, that can't be it. Chan made sure that people rarely walk this path and it would only be the two of you. Still, you're terrified at the thought of someone other than Chan catching you. The mere suggestion of that is enough to send speed to your muscles and make you faster.
But all good things must come to an end (or maybe the good things are just about to begin...) and you are engulfed by a pair of strong arms. Before you can react or try to fight your attacker off, he's pressing his hand against your mouth.
“Shhh, don't scream,” Chan's voice is both a comfort and a threat, sending mixed signals to your core.
“Mmpf,” you struggle to make some kind of noise but it comes out muffled against his rough hand.
“This will all be easier if you don’t fight it,” Chan says soothingly and you shake your head in disagreement.
He momentarily removes his hand from your lip.
“Please, somebody help me!” you scream loud enough to paint the scene more vividly but not loud enough to actually attract attention in case a stranger passes by some forest. Which honestly seems impossible at this point. Chan really picked a very secluded trail.
“No one’s gonna hear you, sweetheart. And even if they did, do you think they’d help you? Silly little bun, you brought this on yourself walking in the forest all alone, wearing this dress…”
Fuck, why is he so good at this? You try not to wonder if he’s had prior experience with such a scenario or he simply just has great imagination to come up with such lines.
“Please, don’t do this,” you pretend to be afraid as your best friend pushes you on your knees and situates himself behind you. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Why not? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll want to brag about it,” Chan chuckles coldly and sticks his thick fingers inside your pussy unexpectedly.
“Nnghh,” you cry out and are beginning to lose energy of all the running and no longer feel like faking it, letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.
“See? You’re all wet for me, so obviously you’re enjoying it,” Chan gathers the evidence of your satisfaction with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth.
You don’t need an order to know what to do as you lick them clean of your arousal.
“Fuuuck, good girl,” Chan praises you and briefly breaks character, stroking your hair gently.
Oh, shit. You think you’re falling for your best friend. But such thoughts will only bring complications, especially in the current context, so you push them down as much as you can.
Chan makes sure you’re wet enough by mercilessly stroking your pussy and finally, fuck, sweet finally, enters you from behind with his cock.
“N-no, d-don’t do this,” you scream and try to escape his strong grasp but of course, it’s no use.
“Such a useless slut, only good for fucking and nothing more.”
The degrading words sting but you’re trying not to dwell on it too much.
“So fucking wet for a stranger. Disgusting,” he says.
Fuck, this hurts. Not the cock stretching you out to the fullest but what he’s saying. Is it really true?
You want to say the safeword. But you also don’t. By the time you make up your mind, Chan has already painted your walls white and you are also coming with a shudder, loudly and devastatingly.
You feel broken. Bad broken. You want to go home and cry and sleep and eat ice cream. What went wrong? You were having such a great time. So why are you suddenly having such dark thoughts? And not dark in the sexy way…
Chan picks you up gently and checks up on you.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, I just want to go home,” you respond briefly.
He nods, quietly wondering if he did something wrong or if he’s just imagining the sad, empty look in your pretty eyes.
Chan helps you walk back to his car and makes sure you drink water and cleans you up to the best of his abilities with some tissues he prepared in advance.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again as he parks the car in front of you place. “You haven’t said a word during the whole ride. Usually you have funny stories to share and…”
“Gee, sorry for not always being the class clown, I guess,” you snap at him angrily with an eyeroll.
“Okay, don’t give me that attitude,” Chan scolds you gently but firmly. “If we want to do this healthily, you gotta communicate with me. If I did something wrong or if you felt uncomfortable at any point.”
You shake your head, still in denial.
“If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t force you. But you gotta remember that you mean the world to me, yeah? Even if these games end, I need to have my best friend in my life, am I clear?”
You blink and finally gather the courage to look at him.
“I’m sorry, Chris,” you admit and burst into tears.
He pulls you into a hug and pats your back.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Well, the truth is I wasn’t all that into it when you said that thing about me being useless, only good for fucking and disgusting,” you confess.
“Oh, babygirl, you know I don’t mean these things. I only said them ‘cause you mentioned you’re into degradation.”
“I was, I mean, I am, but for some reason, it really hurt me this time, sorry. I should have said. I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“Alright, first of all, stop saying sorry, it’s completely normal to get caught up in it and feel insecure sometimes. As a dom, I should have been more careful and checked up on you more frequently. And second of all, please, remember that you are very smart, sweet, funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful so there is no way in hell I think lowly of you. Now, did you put that down in your pretty brain of yours?”
“Yes, sir,” you answer enthusiastically and your tears have dried up, instead a bright smile appears on your face. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Just next time if you happen feel like that, say the safeword and talk to me. About anything, I mean it.”
“You too, Chris. I know that’s particularly hard for you to open up but whatever you tell me, I would never judge you.”
“I know, babygirl,” Chan chuckles softly and does something that further confuses the already blurred lines of your friendship. He kisses you on the lips, deeply and sweetly. Not like how you kiss your best friend but how you kiss a lover.
“Do you want…to come inside?” you offer, not knowing what exactly, considering you just ended a very overwhelming scene.
Actually, you know what you want. You want him to hold you, to watch a dumb movie and eat popcorn together. You want…more than you can have.
“I gotta get some work done,” Chan says with a wince. “I’m really behind on stuff.”
“Is it…my fault?”
“No way. I just can’t stop thinking of…our games even when I’m supposed to be working,” he admits.
Phew. You’re glad he didn’t say he can’t stop thinking of you. If he had, you wouldn’t be able to let him go to work.
“Right. Same here,” you reply dumbly.
“If you need anything and I mean, anything, just give me a call or a text. I’ll keep my phone nearby.”
“You really shouldn’t, I’ll keep annoying you,” you mumble self-consciously.
Chan grips your hand and squeezes it comfortingly.
“You could never annoy me, okay?”
“Okay, daddy,” you say it playfully, eliciting a giggle out of his beautiful mouth.
“Do you have any particular wishes for…you know, next time?”
“I do, but it’s kinda mild compared to what we’ve done already,” you shrug. “Dunno if you’d be into it.”
“Name it and it’s yours,” Chan assures you.
“How do you feel about…fucking me while I’m asleep?”
To be continued…
#bang chan x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids smut#bang chan smut#chan x reader#chan smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz scenarios#stray kids#chan#writing
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slippery when wet!
pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader
summary: “so who fucks better?” he asks bluntly, a bead of sweat dripping down the column of his throat and into the neck of his tank. a shocked laugh bursts from your lips. “what?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “who fucks better?” he repeats slowly, leaning down to meet your eye. “me or art? don’t fucking lie to me and tell me that prissy farmer boy makes you come harder than i do.”
—or: patrick puts you in your place three months later.
word count: 4.3k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, p in v, fighting as foreplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), rough sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering...kinda (fem!receiving), very light spanking, choking, degradation, creampie, throat fucking, mean!reader my beloved, art donaldson is there in spirit, patrick is gay for art, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.
author’s note: no one can stop me from writing rough sex patrick fics. it's all i think about 24/7, and you guys are no help but like i love it so it's fine. i'm here to serve you and this is clearly what you want so who am i to deny you that? thank you to the beautiful anon who requested this, i hope you don't mind that i changed it from a locker room scene to a bathroom scene but that was just calling to me hehe. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.
psst! tftw series masterlist!
You’ve been on the court for at least an hour and a half, running drills and trying to sweat out all of your stress. You were the only one in the building, but it was always less busy during finals week. Most people were camped out in their dorms cramming for fifty question tests or four part lab practicals.
Art politely declined your invite, too busy studying for his business final on Monday. So you rented a tennis machine and worked on your backhand that way. It was a nice distraction, emptying your head enough that all the anxiety of finals started to melt away as you slid into a steady rhythm with the machine.
The door bangs open with a loud creak behind you, bursting the little bubble of tranquility surrounding you. The back of your head burns with the unmistakable feeling of someone glaring at you.
You hear him before you see him, a loud call of your name followed by heavy footsteps quickly coming towards you. The sound of his voice immediately grates on your nerves, all angry and shouty. You choose to ignore it, focusing on hitting each new ball the machine spits out.
It may have been a couple months since you’ve seen Patrick, but you’d always recognize the familiar way his voice wraps around each syllable in your name.
Three months, to be exact. It’s been three months since your big fight over the phone with Patrick. You blocked his number right after you hung up, so you haven’t spoken to him in just as long. He never tried to reach out, never messaged you on AOL or Facebook. The petty fuck actually went out of his way to unfriend you on both, so you knew he wasn’t exactly torn up about your abrupt split.
“Hey! I’m talking to you,” Patrick shouts over the loud humming, sounding closer to you than he was before. You pointedly keep ignoring him, eyes fixed stubbornly on the machine. “You deaf or something?” he mocks, stepping up so you can see him in your peripheral vision. You say nothing, swinging your racket harder with each hit.
Patrick scoffs, stomping over to the machine and slamming his hand over the stop button. It makes a loud beeping sound, before shutting off completely. “Jesus Christ, you’re such a fucking baby.” you groan, throwing your head back in annoyance. When you finally turn to glare at him, you’re shocked at the state he’s in.
Patrick’s dressed in a tank and the almost too short shorts he’d usually wear to a match, and he’s dripping sweat. Curly black hair plastered to his forehead with it, his cheeks red and blotchy like he’d been in the sun. You raise your brow, looking at him with a confused expression on your face. “Where the hell did you even come from? How did you know I was here?”
He walks back over to you, hands balled into fists by his side. “I was at a tournament in Mountain View,” he explains, jerking his head in the vague direction he came from, ”it was so close I thought it’d be wrong of me to not stop by and check up on you.”
You laugh, nodding your head lightly. “Okay, so you flunked out of another tournament and hunted me down like a creepy stalker to what? Yell at me some more? Call me a cunt again?” you step closer, lightly swishing your racket through the air dismissively. “I’m not fucking interested in whatever it is you have to say Patrick, we’re over.”
He smirks but you can see the way his jaw clenches, ticking in anger. “But you’re interested in what Art has to say?”
There it is. You really should have known it would all come back to this eventually.
You sigh, casting your eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “What’s your point?”
Patrick takes a step closer. “My point is that you’re not fucking stupid, and Art can’t lie to save his goddamn life. You knew exactly what he was doing.” His tone is accusatory, his brows pinched together hard enough to crease his skin.
Your heart beat picks up in your chest, anger beginning to bubble up inside you. “I didn’t need Art’s help to realize that you’re an arrogant piece of shit and a gigantic waste of my time, you made it easy enough to pick up on all by yourself.”
Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “No, you just didn’t care.” he states darkly, shaking his head back and forth a few times. You can feel a few drops of sweat fling from his hair to land on the bare skin of your shoulders as he does. “You’re so easy that you’d spread your legs from him to stroke your own ego. You’re only playing into his whole kicked puppy charade to justify acting like a fucking whore, ‘Poor Art, he’s so sad and pathetic, I’ll let him fuck my slutty pussy to help his raise his self esteem!’.” He mocks, voice pitched up in an exaggerated impression of you.
Your grip tightens on the handle of your racket, knuckles turning white with it. You feel hot all over, anger simmering under your sweaty skin. “You’re seriously trying to lecture me about egos? This has nothing to do with Art! This is about you being a bratty little rich boy who’s never been told ‘no’ before so you can’t handle rejection. It’s fucking embarrassing.”
Patrick nostrils flare, brows pinching together in anger. “Art has nothing to do with this, really? You’re delusional if you actually think that he’s just this saint among men or some shit. He’s not, he’s a fucking snake.”
“Trust me, Art doesn’t have to be a saint to be better than you.” you sneer, voice sharp and unwavering. Your hands are shaking, blind rage racking through your body like thunder. “The only redeeming quality you’ll ever have is dangling between your legs so you better get used to this, because sooner or later everyone will leave you once they see past all your bullshit and realize that you’re nothing more than a worthless loser.”
Patrick’s jaw works furiously, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. You think something like hurt flashes through his eyes, but only for a second. It's gone just as fast, replaced by a mocking smirk that stretches over his lips slowly. He crosses his arms in front of him, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“So who fucks better?” he asks bluntly, a bead of sweat dripping down the column of his throat and into the neck of his tank.
A shocked laugh bursts from your lips before you can stop it. “What?” you ask, arms dropping to your sides limply. The completely one-eighty of his mood sends your head reeling.
Patrick takes another step closer, invading your personal space. “Who fucks better?” he repeats slowly, leaning down to meet your eye. “Me or Art? Don’t fucking lie to me and tell me that prissy farmer boy makes you come harder than I do.”
You laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief. “God, everything is always a dick measuring contest with you. It’s so pathetic like, seriously–”
“Answer the question.” Patrick demands, cutting you off sharply. He’s practically looming over you now, so close that you can smell him. That natural, manly, musky scent he always has after a game that drives you fucking crazy.
It reminds you of when he’d come back to your dorm fresh off a match, still in the same clothes and not showered. Pumped full of adrenaline and so pent up, needing something to take his energy out on. You were always that something. He’d fuck your mouth like he’d fuck your pussy, like it was just another hole for him drain his balls into. You’d be face down in his crotch for what seemed like hours, right where his smell was the strongest. Forced to breathe it in so deeply you’d feel high off it, your brain turned to mush every time.
Heat swirls deep in your stomach, you haven’t been this close to Patrick in what seems like forever. You kind of forgot how much he affects you, especially like this. The sex was always better when you’d fight before.
“You’re a child.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
You huff, narrowing your eyes at him. There’s a sort of crazed look on his face, his pupils blown out and dark. It makes you pause, it’s the look you’d get right before he’d pounce on you. You’ve seen it enough times to know that something is different about it. He looks needier, more hungry.
It has some of your anger subsiding, twisted amusement swiftly taking its place. If Patrick wants to ambush you like this, after weeks of radio silence, you might as well use it as a chance to fuck with him.
You smirk, cocking your head to the side slightly. “Art,” you say slowly, taking a small step towards Patrick, “is a better fuck than you ever were.”
Patrick pouts like an honest to God child, sticking out his bottom lip in indignation. “I told you not to lie–”
“I’m not lying,” you say innocently, voice dropping down to a whisper as you lean in even closer. You can see the freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks, darker than usual thanks to all the sun he’s been getting. “Last night he ate me out for hours, made me squirt all over his fucking tongue.”
For the first time since you’ve met him, Patrick Zweig is shocked into silence. His eyes darken, you can’t even see the green anymore, the solid black of his pupils swallowing it entirely. “Bullshit,” he says quietly, clipped and skeptical. His breath fans hotly over your lips, it makes your spine start to tingle.
You smile sweetly, giving a small shrug of your shoulders. “I’ll send you the video.”
Patrick physically reels back, blinking slowly with the realization of what you just said. His lips barely part in surprise, pink and enticing. You revel in it, smirking at him smugly. His eyes flit across your face like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying or not. You stare back at him unrelenting, all the proof you need is sitting in the video gallery of your pink motorola razr.
Patrick swallows hard, you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs with it. He shifts his lower body subtly, but you’re too close to not notice it. Your eyes immediately dart down, and you’re almost giddy at what you find.
He’s hard, the fabric of his shorts stretched over the length of his dick obscenely. You can see the faint outline of the tip pressing against the seam, a wet patch seeping through the gray material around it.
“Oh my god, you’re actually getting off on this!” you laugh wickedly, eyes glued to the lewd tent of his dick. “You’re calling me a whore when you’re the one getting wet just thinking about your best friend's mouth on my pussy. That’s fucking pathetic even for you, Ricky.”
Patrick is silent, breathing heavily through his nose as he stares you down so intensely you can almost feel the heavy weight of his eyes as they bore into you.
It happens in less than a second, Patrick closing the distance between you and taking your arm in his strong hand so he can force you in the direction of the showers. His grip is tight on your bicep, fingers meanly digging into your skin and forcing you to walk with him. You put up a fight, kicking and scratching but he’s stronger than you. Not letting your slaps to his chest or nails sinking into his arm deter him from dragging you across the court.
“Let me go asshole!” you snap, trying in vain to yank your arm out of his grip while you stumble over your own feet. “You’re such a fucking psycho!” Patrick ignores you, bursting into the men's showers and marching you into the first stall. He drags you inside, whirling you around to shove your back against the door of it roughly. It knocks the wind out of you for a second, the lock digs into your back hard enough to hurt.
“Art doesn’t have any fucking idea how to deal with a bitch like you.” he grates, fisting a handful of your harshly. “He’s too soft. Too busy letting you lead him around by his dick to try putting you in your fucking place.”
The sting of your scalp only adds to the warmth pulsing in your pussy, sticky arousal dripping wet in your panties. You meet his eyes, all the fire and want swirling in them mirror your own. “Art has a bigger dick than you bitch.” You spit, standing on your tiptoes to lessen the distance of him tugging on your hair. It’s a low blow, immature and basic but you don’t care.
Patrick just hum noncommittally, roughly hooking his fingers into your cheeks and dragging you forward until the tip of your nose is touching his. “Then your throat is still nice and stretched out for me.”
He drops his hands to your shoulders, forcing you onto your knees. You hit the ground with a heavy thud, a dull ache blooms in your knees at the force of it. “Fuck,” you hiss, pulling back instinctively but the hard plastic of the shower door pressing onto the back of your head keeps you pinned in place. Your hands fly up to his legs to try and push him away.
Patrick grips your hair tight, tipping your face up to look at him. You have a perfect view of him pushing his shorts down, letting his hard dick slip out as the fabric stretches taught across his thick thighs. “Open your mouth,” he demands, yanking your head to the side meanly.
“Fuck you,” you snarl, teeth bared in anger as you fight to stand up. Patrick’s strong hand on your shoulder keeps you down while the other starts to idly stroke his dick. He’s just as big as you remember, thick and hard only a few inches away from your face.
The tip all red and weepy when he pulls his foreskin back on each tug, a thick vein running up the side that you want to trace with your tongue.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” he coos softly, rubbing his leaking tip across your bottom lip a couple times, smearing his pre-come around your mouth like lip gloss. “We both know you love it.”
He’s so cocky, so sure of himself that you want to keep denying him. But he’s also right, you can feel your resolve slowly start to crack when he pushes the head between your parted lips. The familiar heady taste of him oozing onto your tongue has you sighing contently, jaw relaxing the tiniest bit almost like a reflex.
The second you give Patrick an inch and he’ll take a mile.
“There we go,” he mutters sweetly, pulling back slightly and then thrusting forward until your nose is buried in the short curls at the base.
Your whole body tenses, throat constricting over the length of his dick as your fist his shorts in your hands. As quickly as he thrust in, he pulls out, letting you sharply gasp for air before it’s back and pressing insistently on your tongue. You let him in, forcing your throat to relax as he slides forward to press his hips into your face.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” he bites out, thrusting down your throat roughly. “Pussy’s so greedy it jumped on the next dick that perked up around it.”
You could only whine around Patrick’s dick, mouth too full to do anything but try and work your tongue over the throbbing length of him.
Your throat burns, spit flowing down your chin messily along with his pre-come still steadily leaking from the hot tip of his dick.
His big hands have an iron grip on either side of your head, his balls slap against your chin as he thrusts over and over and over. The back of your skull throbs, knocking into the stall with each pump of his hips.
“Fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead down to the stall with a small thunk. “You look so good like this,” he breathes, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, “so fucking pretty with my dick down your throat to shut you up.”
Your pussy aches, so empty that you want to shove your hand down your shorts and stuff yourself full of your own fingers to dull the need. Your thighs glide together slickly, the wetness of your arousal soaking through your clothes.
It gets harder to breathe. Your choked off, spluttering gags start loudly echoing off the tile walls. Your hand slaps Patrick’s thigh a few times, he thrusts hard once more before he finally pulls back, smearing spit all over your tongue and out of your mouth.
“God, that was good baby.” he praises, slapping his dick against your right cheek lewdly. “As much as I want to pump this load down your throat,” he says casually, stroking his spit slick dick lazily, ”I want it in your pussy more.”
“I fucking hate you,” you growl weakly, voice absolutley wrecked. The tears sitting in your waterline blur your vision, you blink them away to see Patrick’s smug smile beaming down at you.
“Then tell me to stop,” he shrugs, tilting his head to the side condescendingly. You glare up at him, but you don’t say anything. He snorts, brow raising in amusement. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
He shoves his shorts the rest of the way down, stepping out of them and hauling you up to your feet. You’re still desperately trying to catch your breath, chest heaving as you cough and gasp.
Patrick rips your shirt over your head, flinging it over the stall along with his own. He turns you by your shoulder, pushing you against the wall as he yanks the shower handle to start the stream.
Water rains down around you, shockingly cold for a few seconds before it finally starts to warm up. Patrick makes quick work of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and off your feet, tossing them in the corner of the stall with a wet thwack.
He kicks your feet further apart, one hand on your shoulder and the other lining his hard dick up with your tight hole, letting the leaking tip press into you with the smallest amount of pressure.
“I know you missed my dick, slut,” he says, bringing his hand down on your ass quickly, kneading the stinging skin roughly. “Art could be the best fuck in the world, he still can’t give it to you like I can.” He pops the head in, groaning quietly before he bullies his thick dick the rest of the way into you.
Your hole shakes around him. Patick is right. Patrick is always right, but you’d never tell him that. You wanted this. You missed this. The burn of Patrick’s dick forcing you open, stretching you so wide your toes curl. Him not giving you even a second to react before he’s pulling back and pounding into you brutally.
You cry out, eyes screwing shut at the sharp sting. You can tell through the haze of you brain that this won’t take long at all, the both of you already so worked up from Patrick fucking your throat. His right hand drops from your shoulder to your hip while his left slides up your torso, sliding along your skin to wrap around the column of your throat firmly. You keen loudly, throwing your head back to give him more room.
“I taught him how to use that fucking dick,” he goads into your ear, grip tightening on your throat. “Did he tell you about that? Huh?” He takes your earlobe between your teeth, biting hard enough to make you squeal into the wall.
The tile digs into your cheek, roughly scraping against your skin every time Patrick fucks back into you.
You’re hovering over the edge, pussy throbbing with the burning need to come. Your clit pulses, swollen and sensitive but you can’t find the strength to drop your down hand between your thighs.
They’re too busy scrambling for any kind of purchase on the slippery wall of the shower, manicured nails scratching against the tile uselessly.
You gasp for air, fighting to speak up under the intense pressure of his hand, “I could tell,” you choke out, barely audible, “you both fuck like you have something to prove.”
“You think?” he sneers, thrusting harder, your ass stinging each time he slams his hips into you. “Maybe that’s because we do. Maybe that’s because we both like seeing you fucking fall apart like this, seeing you beg for it after you finally stop being a little pissy bitch.”
Your breath hitches as his other hand drops from your hip, delving between your thighs to slide the calloused pads of his fingertips over your swollen clit.
You moan, thighs clenching together as he rubs fast circles over you. “You like that, don’t you? Being used like a fucking toy.” His hand squeezes just a bit tighter. “Say it. Tell me you love being our little slut.”
The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them, a mix of desperation and raw honesty, “I love it,” you cry out as loud as you can, “I love being your slut.”
“God, you sound just like him,” Patrick chuckles into your ear, low and sinister. His hold on your throat tightens, cutting off your air entirely. You sputter, hand coming up to clutch his wrist like a vice. Your pulse thunders, hard enough that he can probably feel it against his palm. “Who do you think made him come harder?”
The image alone of Patrick and Art like that sends you flying to the edge. “Ah— Patrick! ” you moan, voice hoarse and strained, “Pat, I’m gonna— fuck—“
“Do it,” he goads, sliding his hand from your clit down to where your pussy is spread open on him. He pushes his thick index finger right up next to his pulsing dick, hooking it inside or you and stretching you that much wider. “Come on my fucking dick like the greedy whore you are.”
You let out a sharp cry as your forehead hits the wall, thighs shaking violently as Patrick’s hips become relentless. Your whole body tensing up as you come so hard your vision blacks out.
You think you’re screaming, but it’s hard to hear anything over the white noise buzzing in your ears. Patrick’s hips don’t stop, fucking your abused pussy into overstimulation as he chases his own orgasm.
His hand drops from your throat to dig into your hip to put more power behind his thrusts. You’re immediately gasping for air, taking in greedy lungfuls of it.
Patrick’s chest is plastered to your back, face buried in your neck as he rambles out more nonsensical obscenities. His dick pulses and twitches in your pussy, so close to filling you up.
An idea pierces through the fog of your brain, an idea so fucking filthy it has your pussy clenching weakly.
You think back to the first night Art fucked you, how he almost came all over Patrick’s pants just because they were his, just because you said his name. How worked up and hard Patrick got when you started talking about Art.
“When he fucked me for the first time, I was wearing your sweats, the green ones,” your voice is scratchy and quiet, barely audible over the shower’s spray, “he noticed.”
“Fuck– fuck you,” he grates out, hips faltering ever so slightly. “God, gonna come,” his hold on your hip tightens, strong enough that it’ll be sure to bruise.
You keep talking, spurred on by his reaction. “He almost came right there, he wasn’t even inside me yet, just rubbed his dick all over them like he could fucking feel you.”
Patrick gives one final slam of his hips, burying himself as deep as he can in your pussy. His low groans and curses fill the room as he unloads into you, pumping you so full of his come that you can feel each hot splash of it painting the walls of your pussy.
He slumps down against you, hips twitching as he works through the aftershocks. You can feel his breath puff over the shell of your ear.
You and Patrick say nothing for a long few minutes, running water the only thing to keep the room from being completely silent. Patrick is still pressed to your back, his chest heaves against your shoulders. You think you’d collapse if his hands weren’t still on your hips, practically holding you up.
You’re the one to break the silence, voice low and wrecked, “Art lasts so much longer than that…”
Patrick snorts against your back. “Fuck you.” he says, biting your shoulder hard and pulling his dick out of you in one swift move. You gasp sharply as his come floods from your puffy, wrecked hole. Thick streams of it dripping down your thighs until the water washes it away to swirl down the drain.
You turn on unsteady legs, hair plastered to your face with water. Patrick is right there, knees knocking against yours as he shifts the two of you closer to the spray. He looks like a marble statue, water dripping down the tip of his nose and between the hard planes of his abs.
He grins smugly down at you, “I’m staying at a hotel close to campus, unblock my number and I’ll send you my room number,” he wagers, hands sliding up and down the wet skin of your back. “I think you, Art, and I have something we need to work out.”
“Yeah,” you agree, nodding your head with a small grin. “I think we do”
tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
#— 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ♡#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#okay this might actually be the filthiest thing i've ever written#i really went for it#and i had so much fun#i literally cannot believe this is my third fic posted this week#that is so crazy to me#and i actually posted this at a reasonable hour!#not at seven in the morning after staying away all night!#i'm like a professional now#okay bye!#love you!#challengers x reader#challengers x you#challengers smut#challengers imagine#challengers fanfic#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig fanfic
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do u think you could write something about reader faking an orgasm and then abby finding out n she is maaddd 🙈
it’s okay if not tho !❤️
I can absolutely try !! I hope what I wrote is somewhat close to what you were envisioning but either way, I hope you enjoy <33
Warnings - basically the ask, essentially porn with no plot therefore it's not written with any specific AU in mind so feel free to interpret it into whatever one you want, smut (MDNI), tribbing, unintentional edging, faking a orgasm, lowkey kinda awkward at the beginning, overstim, oral & fingering r!receiving, praise, abbys just a sweetheart who wants to take care of you
this is also definitely longer than it should’ve been but oh well
"fffuck baby you feel so good”
Abbys on top of you grunting and whining as she grinds her wet pussy across your’s and you’re also whining underneath her with furrowed brows however, unlike Abby, you can’t seem to reach that peak you so desperately want and need.
No matter what you try to do in an attempt to gain more friction whether it be grinding up into abby or trying to follow her movements, you only receive light grazes when abbys clit drags against yours which keeps you pent up and frustrated. And it definitely doesn’t help that your focus is off as your mind is crowded with the stress of midterms. All you want to do is have sex and cum with your girlfriend, but by the looks of it, that just wont be happening, and you’re too nervous to tell her.
Finally, Abby lets out a long drawn out string of curses and quick breaths as she leans down to lay on top of you as she orgasms and you feel her cum dripping onto your cunt and the feeling makes you let out a whine.
Abbys still grinding against you kisses along your neck and you can hear her whimpers and see her legs shake from overstimulation but you know she isnt gonna stop until you finish, so mentally you apologize to her for what you’re about to do and let out a series of faux high pitched whimpers moans and curses and grind up into her, hoping that she wont focus on it enough and just mistake her own juices as yours and that your moans are convincing enough.
But Abby knows you. She knows exactly what you sound like when you finish, she knows how your clit twitches and hole squeezes around nothing, your sloppy attempts at getting a few last bits of friction in, and she knows that whatever it was that you just did, definitely wasn’t real.
Abby quickly sits up and positions herself over you with her arms on either side of your head and you’re trying your best to avoid her confrontational gaze.
“baby?”
You respond with a quick ‘hm?’ before finally looking at her, trying to make yourself appear as innocent as possible.
“did you just.. fake an orgasm?”
“what?! n-no of course not why would you-“
“don’t you dare fucking lie to me”
You swallow thickly. You knew she could see right through you and her assertiveness always made your facades crumble. So after a few seconds of silence and her pointed eyes staring right into yours you finally break
“okay i did im sorry! im just too distracted and i didn’t wanna ruin it for you and because i know how overstimulated you get and you wouldn’t stop until i came and-”
You rambled on and on explaining it to her and then she started… laughing? You stopped talking,suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed and exposed.
“baby its okay, i just wish you would’ve told me, i just gotta make it up to you now”
Your brows furrowed at the last part of her sentence
“make it up to me how?”
“ fuck right there! “
Abby’s tongue plunged in and out of your cunt, occasionally stopping and reaching up to circle or suck on your clit, she had already made you cum beforehand letting you grind up and down on her thigh, allowing you to get the friction you were so desperately craving, leaving you fucked out yet still begging for more.
Your moans and curses bounced off the walls as the noises abby made while eating you out as if you were her favorite food, and if Abby was honest, you might as well be.
“abs shit don’t stop m’ gonna cum im so close please don’t stop”
Abby hummed in acknowledgment and sped up her pace, earning an extremely loud whine from you and you ground onto her face in an attempt to bring you to your peak sooner.
Within seemingly seconds you’re thighs were squeezing around abbys head so tight she almost couldn’t breathe as your orgasm crashed into you, although she wasn’t complaining. Your hand instinctively tugged on her messy braid, causing her to groan into your core, and the other you slapped over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans and curses.
She slowed her movements and your thighs and hands loosened up. Eventually she stopped and you started to catch your breath, assuming she was done but it hitched when you felt her fingers curling up into you.
“i know baby just one more ‘kay? you can handle that right sweet girl?”
You nodded your head responding with a mumbled ‘can handle it abs’ which made her smile. She sat above you now, her eyes focused on watching how your cunt squeezed around her fingers as she pushed the remnants of your previous orgasm back in.
You felt that same bubbling feeling in your core embarrassingly quickly. You tried to tell abby through broken whines and curses, wrapping your hand around her wrist even, but couldn’t seem to get the words out as your brain was beginning to short circuit and your body began to twitch due to the overstimulation.
“shh i know baby go ahead i got you”
Not too long afterwards your legs shook and abby felt you squeeze around her fingers so tightly she could barely move. She leaned down and kissed you gently as you succumbed to your orgasm. the kiss was sweet and sensual, a stark contrast to the shocks being sent through you as she rubbed your clit.
Eventually every little thing became too much to handle and you brought your hand up to her chest to gently push her off. Abby sat up and removed her fingers, smiling as she admired her work, licking you off her fingers and leaning down to give you a quick peck on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself, before smiling against them
“told you i’d make it up to you”
#𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 🐞✏️#tlou fanfiction#tlou2#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson fic#the last of us
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On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji
Length: 3128 words
Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji
TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)
"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?"
Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.
"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch.
“Who is helping you, who is he?"
"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches.
"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.
"I can't fail this."
Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.
"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."
"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"
"You really want this, Minji?"
"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen. Why do you—"
"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."
"Thank you so much, Unnie!"
"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—"
Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice:
"Never try to get between him and me."
#
"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.
"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."
"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure."
You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking.
Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.
"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."
"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"
"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.
"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"
"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.
"Get on your knees."
"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?"
You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?”
“H-how did you know—?”
“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."
Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it?
Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.
"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"
A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes.
"—I'll fulfill your desires."
Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.
Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.
"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."
You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.
The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?
"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.
"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."
"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"
You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—
"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."
—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.
You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom.
"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"
"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."
"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."
Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."
"Oh,
"You call this nothing?"
You tsk and slap her face with your cock.
"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!"
You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.
"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—
The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.
"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.
"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me."
Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.
She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink:
The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.
You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.
"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.
"Yes, Master."
"Then you know what you have to do."
"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."
"Can you do that?"
Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock.
Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.
"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."
You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach.
"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—"
But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge.
"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”
She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career.
And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking.
Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.
"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."
Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."
"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."
"Yes, Master."
"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.
"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."
Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—
"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"
You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.
Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.
"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."
"M-Master, I..."
"Shut the fuck up.
"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#male reader insert#male reader smut#newjeans smut#newjeans minji smut#minji smut#kim minji smut
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Brooklyn Baby
Symphony smut series Day 2: Lana del Rey's Brooklyn Baby
Lyric: My boyfriends' in a band, he plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed
Pairings: dom!Heeseung × dom!Jay × fem!sub!reader
Warnings: Poly relationship, SMUT MINORS DNI, vibrator, double penetration, oral (f and m recieving), dacryphillia, degradation, reader wears a dress, mention of breeding, Heeseung fucks reader with a vibrator, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (definetly not for you), threesome, kinda mean doms hee and jay
A/N: Day 2! I love this song with all my heart so I thought Jay would be the perfect fit cause duh, but then I was like why don't we make it a little interesting and add Heeseung into the mixture? Anyway this is my first time writing poly so please be kind everyone.
THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST
When you took up the offer in college to be lead singer of a three-person band, you hadn't expected to become a celebrity princess overnight. What you also hadn't expected was for your two loving members, Heeseung and Jay, to become your loving boyfriends. A little bit of poly never hurt did it?
"Darling, we're going to be late if you don't hurry up." Jay peeked his head around the door, to see you applying your lip gloss all prettily around your lips.
The lip gloss he had gotten you.
"How do I look?" You turned to him with uncertainty. The dress was beautiful, one that your fans would adore. The makeup was also done to perfection by your '24 hour routine' as Heeseung called it.
"Beautiful as always." Jay responded, stretching his hand out to you, and twirling you around, relishing the tight fit of the dress against your waist, "I think engenes are going to want to steal you from me and Heeseung."
"Please." Heeseung's footsteps announced his arrival into the room, his eyes widening as they fell upon you, "They won't ever be able to do that.
"So protective." You wrapped your arms around Heeseung's neck, whilst Jay's stayed on your waist, "Are we ready?"
You looked into the mirror infront of you, where you all stood out perfectly in color coordinated outfits. A flurry of blues and purples perfectly describing your band's genre stared back at you in the mirror.
"Perfect."
"And now we have the overnight musical sensation! Please welcome Enhypen!" The host's voice boomed across the room, as you entered from backstage, both arms twirled in both your boyfriends' arms.
The audience applauded and hooted, cheering your names, the official fanchant over and over again and again.
"Well aren't they excited for today?" The host merrily laughed, as you sat down in between Heeseung and Jay.
"Well, welcome to the show! How are you feeling?"
"Nervous I guess." You answered with a slight chuckle, calming down as Jay's hand pressed on yours.
"Well of course! I believe you are excited for the live performance tonight?"
"Well of course." Jay responded this time. His perfume did smell good, you thought as you watched him speak with such eloquence. He did always have a way with his words everywhere.
"You're not ignoring me are you?" You heard Heeseung whisper into your ear, his hand creeping up to your thigh. You were thankful for the table infront of you which shielded the bottom part of your body, a part which Heeseung loved to touch.
His hand reached lower into your thigh, tickling your skin with his cold hands as he gripped them hard.
"And Miss Y/N!" The host said, snapping you out of the sudden urge to moan, "How would you describe your relationship with the boys?"
Great, you thought, another dumb question just for me.
"Um I'd say we're best friends." You nervously said. Revealing your relationship to the world wouldn't really be all sunshine and rainbows. "We've been friends since college actually, when we decided to form Enhypen. And well I guess we're close to family now." You awkwardly laughed to cover up the situation as the host moved on to the next question.
"And now, our dear audience let's get ready for the performance!" The host's voice boomed again, as the audience clapped their hands off.
A microphone and two guitars were all prepped and ready as you walked up, adjusting the mic to your level. Jay examined the guitar carefully and slipped it on, teasing the audience by playing a few notes on it, to which you heard girls scream his name. You smiled to yourself, remembering all the shit they wrote on your boys, all the fanfiction which they really thought would come true.
Hah as if! The boys belonged to you, and you only.
If only you knew what was coming for you after the performance.
"Best friends huh?" Jay pinned you against the wall, Heeseung's chuckles filling the room, as he slowly removed his belt and watch, "Too afraid to tell the world what we are darling?"
"Jay y-you know we can't." You reprimanded him, trying to take the upper hand. But only failure came to you at that moment, as you felt your thighs become stickier by the moment.
"Aww look at her." Heeseung chuckled again, "Our good little girl. Why don't we teach her a lesson, huh Jay?"
Jay smirked at you, going in for a kiss before saying, "Want her first?"
"Nah you have fun, I'll take her later." Heeseung settled himself comfortably on the loveseat facing the bed, his legs wide open in a manspread.
You felt shivers around your body as Jay, picked you up like a rag doll and threw you onto the bed.
"We don't need this, do we?" Jay toyed with your panties. The straps of your dress pressed tightly against your shoulders and Jay, pressed his fingers to your clothed labia, removing the underwear with ease and depositing it on the floor.
The shaky breath you took made Jay smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh.
As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.
The room was dimly lit, courtesy to the closed curtains, but you could see Heeseung from the corner of your eye, smirking intently at Jay reaching down to your clit, one of his hands massaging the bulge on his pants gently.
Jacking off while Jay works his way through you, typical Heeseung, you would have scoffed if not for Jay providing heaven to you at that moment.
Jay's tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.
You can feel him grinning while he licks and swirls his tongue around your swollen nub, hands beginning to slow to a halt. His fingers pull almost all the way out you, causing your eyes to finally open and a noise of protest leaves your lips.
Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.
Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.
And just as you the climax reached closer and closer, your mouth almost about to scream-
"Jay!" You cried, laying an eye on Jay's face peeking out from between your legs, "Why'd you stop?"
Jay chuckled and glanced over at Heeseung, who sighed and got up, striding over to you, the buttons of his shirt slightly opened, giving him a more powerful look
"Only our girlfriend deserves to cum, but you're not her are you?" Heeseung moved to the atmosphere above you, as Jay slowly collapsed on the loveseat where Heeseung had been sitting, "Remind me what she is Jay?"
"Our best friend." Jay said, an unusually sadistic tone to his voice, "Do you want the vibrator or will you be going in with your fingers?"
"Hand me the vibrator." Heeseung said, stroking your thigh with his fingers again, eliciting a mewl out of you, "You wanna use the pink one princess?"
"Don't ask her that you know she'll say yes." Jay's voice could be heard from across the room, as he dug and dug into the cupboard, "Aha! There you go."
A needy moan falls from your lips as Heeseung presses the pink machine deeper inside your pussy, whining a bit as it clenches tighter. Pleasure rushes through your core while your moans grow louder and needier.
"Aww look at her." Heeseung chuckles, "so fucking needy aren't you?"
He groans softly, biting his lip as he takes in the sight of you before him. Heeseung was never the one to keep his control. The vibrator slides through your folds absentmindedly, keeping you wet and needy. Heeseung's eyes darken a bit at the sight of your arching back.
"Fuck, princess," he whispers, kneeling on the bed closer to you. His free hand come to rest on your hips, sliding along, caressing your thighs, your curves in admiration and desire.
"How does it feel? Good?" he whispers, voice almost raw with need, "Do you want something better?"
"Fuck Heeseung!" You cry, feeling the vibrator switch to a faster pace, Heeseung pushing it deeper and deeper into you.
Tears falls down your face, the pleasure rushing through you almost being impossible to take. And yet, you didn't fuck two men at the same time to crumble so easily did you?
"Are you close, princess?" he leans his body over yours, whispering in your ears, "Do you wanna cum for me?"
“i-i’m gonna cum… fuck! Heeseung–!” you cry out, ready to tip over that peak until the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you was ripped away. "No!"
You whip your head around, glancing over your shoulder to see the shit-eating smirk Jay was wearing on his face.
“ah… i guess you really wanted to cum right?” he teases, one of his hands rubbing soft circles on his dick.
“aw… m’sorry baby,” Heeseung coos at you, his hands coming up to rest on your jaw. “but brats don’t get what they want, now do they?” he says, the grip on your face tightening.
“Think you can handle two dicks in your tight little cunt?” Jay teases, no having joined you and Heeseung in the bed. You've never heard him talk with such vile language before but you loved this side of him. “Yes daddy~” you moan out.
Skin colliding with skin filled the room, the sound bouncing off the walls.
With a loud moan you nodded, feeling how good the stretch provided by Heeseung's cock felt inside your cunt "right there daddy" you mumbled against the tip of Jay's cock before his hips slammed it inside your mouth once again. You couldn't help but whimper while his cock used your mouth, causing waves of pleasure to travel all over Jay's body who was harshly gripping a fistful of your hair as he deep throated you.
"You love doing this don't you, slut?" Heeseung chuckled, "Making us feel good?"
"but who fucks you better, huh darling?" Jay questioned, his eyes focusing on your face completely fucked out. Your ruined make up, your messy hair, the way your cheeks and nose were all red because of how roughly he was using your mouth and the sight of saliva all over your lips and chin made his cock twitch under your hand.
You moan around his cock with the sting of his condescension, feel Heeseung stiffen inside you with a rut of his hips, grazing your tender g-spot with the added swell. He stutters and curses, Jay grins through a breathy moan as he no doubt recognises the signs he’s seen a hundred times before.
"You wanna cum darling?" Heeseung's chuckle sounds like heaven to your ears, "What do you think Jay?"
"She's treatin me so good." Jay groans, feeling his cum in his belly, "Let her."
Heeseung nods, reaching around you to circle your throbbing clit with surprisingly firm and steady motions despite his impending release. He gets you there, bursts through the dam of white-hot pleasure with a final rut that forces you deeper onto Jay's cock, and the three of you come in an eye watering display of lust and synergy that shouldn’t be found in a group that says they're 'best friends'.
With Jay's cum dripping from your lips, Heeseung's from your post-orgasmic pussy, you wonder how you’re ever going to have sex again after this. Nothing could possibly come close to what you just experienced.
"Fucking hell." Jay collapsed on the bed on your right, while Heeseung did the same thing to your left, "That was good, wasn't it darl-" Jay's words stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you clinging to Heeseung's bicep, and lightly snoring.
"You wanna get showered?" Heeseung whispered to Jay, "I got your favourite shampoo."
"Nah wanna stay like this." Jay answered, wrapping his arms around your waist, spooning you into comfort, "Family." He scoffed, "The only family we're ever going to be is when we fuck our cum into her."
"That's what I was thinking." Heeseung laughed, the three of you holding each other and collapsing into a cocoon of comfort.
#enhypen#Enha#jay#heeseung#heeseung smut#heeseung imagines#lee heeseung#park jay smut#park jay fluff#enhypen smut imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen smut reactions#enha smut#jay smut#park jongseong#park jay imagines#park jay#lee heeseung fluff#lee heeseung fic#lee heeseung smut#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#jay hard thoughts#heeseung fanfic#Enhypen smut fics#enha smut fics#poly relationship#jay park smut#heeseung × reader#jay × reader
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Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix
synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.
tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.
portion; 3.1k+
possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)
I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.
The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life— Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.
You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?
Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.
“…Syd?”
She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”
There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.
“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.
“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”
“Syd.”
“Is your dad still a handy-man?”
Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.
You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.
“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”
You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”
You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”
You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.
CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.
There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.
Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.
“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”
You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.
“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”
“Oh nice!”
“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”
“In the way I can fix?”
“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”
“What’s the damage?”
“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”
You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”
“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”
“What was broke about it in the first place?”
“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.”
“Do you have the outside handle, still?”
“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”
“Clean?”
“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"
“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.
“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”
“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.
“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.
“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”
“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”
Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.
“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”
“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”
And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.
Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.
You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.
Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.
“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.
“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”
You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”
“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.
You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”
“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”
You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”
The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.
Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.
Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.
“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”
You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”
“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”
Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”
You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.
“Not gonna hit you, promise.”
“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”
You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”
“…Tony?”
“...Who the fuck is Tony?”
The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”
And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”
“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”
“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”
“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.
“Well, wait—”
You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.
“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”
“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”
And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.
“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.
You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”
“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.
The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.
It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”
Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.
He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.
“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.
Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.
You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.
He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.
But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.
And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.
And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.
Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.
Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”
“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.
You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”
Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.
Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.
It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.
“You’re not Tony.”
“Terry.”
“You’re Terry?”
“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”
“Terry’s the fridge guy.”
“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”
“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”
“Syd.”
“Should’ve called you earlier.”
“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”
“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.
“You know Mikey too?”
Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.
“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”
“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”
“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.
You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.
“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”
“Still not Tony.”
“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—
“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.
But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.
And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.
Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.
Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.
Mikey’s words. Of course.
Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.
“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.
Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”
Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”
“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”
She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”
Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?
I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!
And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.
Next Part
#carmen berzatto#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear x you#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto imagine
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“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜. .
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
“Nigga you not shit.” “Look I said sorry I don’t know what else you want me-“ “bitch I’ll beat yo ass all you do is talk all that I’m sorry shit. I’m done have fun.” You turn around your platinum blonde side part swaying behind you.
“Who the fuck you calling a bitch?” Ony’s eyebrows furrowed together as he stands up and walks up to you, pulling your arm forcing you to face him.
“Nigga I’m talking to you!! And yo bitch ass!! Who the fuck you think I am to run back to yo stupid ass? Nigga you cheated. End of story I should beat yo ass.” You put your finger in his face, stepping up to him and yelling in his face. “Yo ma calm down.” He says looking you directly into your eyes his face not showing any emotion. “Calm down?!? Calm down??? Bitch I’ll beat you and that bitch ass wait til I catch her ass. Imma fuck ha ass up.” You punch your hand as you walk away from him and out the door and he follows you.
“Look I don’t know what else you want me to say I said sorry isn’t that enough??” You ignore him and walk to your car slamming my the door behind you and pulling off immediately afterwards.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
A week later you get a call from one of his friends, “wassup” you answer without checking the caller id. “You and Ony! Still arguing?” You look up and check the caller id and roll your eyes ``there isn’t anything to argue about.” You laugh. “He a bitch and that’s that. HE wanna go fuck the whole city then he can go do that not finna dwell on no bitch ass nigga that couldn’t handle me anyways.” “Damn that’s how you feel?” You chuckle lightly. “Yea now if you would excuse me I have a life to live that doesn’t include you or the rest of yo bitch ass friends. Have fun on my block list.” You hand up the phone blocking him along with the rest of his friends.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Ngl kinda wrote this cuz I been reading ffs lately where the reader is like…..a bitch about EVERYTHING like weak and it’s pissing me off I’m def turning this into a series to keep me motivated to write, so if you want to see this again just lmk who could be another love interest when (idk)! But some more nicer and …..softer ffs will come out either in Christmas on after idk.
#black reader#onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon x black y/n#onyankopon fluff#onyankopon x reader#aot onyankopon#black yn#Spotify
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coach (doesn't) always know best .ᐟ
Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader
Synopsis; Patrick continues to be a thorn in your side whether he means to or not. When you get a phone call claiming your son had hit another kid you had a damn good idea who had a hand in this.
Notes; part two to my coach one shot kinda? I think I'm gonna write more one shots which all link into a larger story? I'm not good with full series but I have an idea where I wanna take this. ALSO named the kid Noah to help make it easier
Masterlist | coach!au masterlist
You were pissed - scratch that seething.
You’ve been having a good week. Work had been easy and thankfully so had your son, Noah had his moments even at eight he was still prone to random emotional outbursts which always left a slight pit in your stomach.
You’d never planned to be a single parent and sometimes you really wanted to need someone else to rant to whenever you fucked up. Though this time it wasn’t you who had fucked up.
“What made you think that was okay?” Your son watched from the kitchen table, his eyes wide with the guilt you knew was eating at him. He’d been quiet ever since you’d come to pick him up from school besides mumbling apologies he’d barely spoken something which left you uneasy.
“I have always told you to never put your hands on someone else! If a kid is mean to you or your friends you go get a teacher.” A sigh left your lips as you paused in front of him. This was completely new ground. He was a good kid, the best which is why you’d been in utter disbelief when you’d gotten the phone call telling you to come pick him up.
You’d immediately assumed he must have been sick but his teacher had quickly curved that by telling you that your son had taken it upon himself to hit another kid at break. You knew the kid he’d hit was a brat - it was common knowledge - but that didn’t make a difference on how your son had acted.
His little feet kicked idly as he stared at his hands. “I know he was being mean to your friend okay? And he shouldn’t have taken that toy but you shouldn’t have hit him.” You knelt your hand rubbing over his knee.
“You're mad.” He mumbled reusing to look up. “I’m disappointed.” You corrected him.
His cheated heaved as he took a breath, and you already knew he wasn’t far off crying. The disappointment was far worse than anger in his mind. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his hands pulling at his polo.
“I know you are. But why?” You couldn’t get your head around why he had hit this kid! Ever since he was young you’d discouraged hitting and he’d never attempted it since starting school. You were sure you’d curved the habit but now you were unsure.
“Why did you hit him?”
Noah sniffled his shoulders slumping as you watched him, waiting. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this one. “He kept being mean to Conner and he wouldn’t do anything! He pushed him over yesterday and the teacher didn’t believe us.” Your jaw tightened slightly as he relayed the story. “That doesn’t mean you hit him.”
He nodded. “I mentioned it last night at practice, and Conner got upset, so Patrick asked what happened, and he said that a bully won't stop unless you show him you're just as strong.” He looked up, his big eyes wet, as he rubbed a fist across his ruddy cheeks.
You hummed pulling him in for a hug.
You were gonna kill Patrick.
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
“You told my son to hit a boy.”
Patrick grimaced leaning against his car as your voice carried down the phone. “Hello to you too.” He mumbled.
“Patrick.” You snapped.
“I didn’t tell him to hit the kid!”
“You told him to get him back! He’s eight! He doesn’t understand that ‘get him back’ doesn’t mean literally do the same thing.”
“I didn’t think he’d listen to me! I was just tryna make the kid feel better.” You scoffed mumbling under your breath. Shifting his grip on the phone he took another drag of his cigarette. “I’m sorry alright! I didn’t think he’d take it literally.”
He couldn’t lie part of him got a small kick out of it. The teachers weren’t doing anything and at least your son had the guts to stand up to the kid. Maybe he’d gone about it the wrong way but still, he doubted that kid would be trying anything again soon.
“Get your ass over here right now.” Your tone was still harsh as you watched the window. “I want you to tell him what he did was wrong.”
Patrick’s eyes widened. “Hey, I’m his tennis coach, not some sorta ethics teacher.” He stamped out the cigarette a small smirk pulling at his lips as memories of that last time he’d ended up at your door flashed through his mind.
Hell, that had been the first time he’d managed to render you speechless…more than once. He’d taken great amusement in the way you’d refused to look at him for the full week after, almost as if you were embarrassed that he’d worn you down that fast.
“I think you just want an excuse to get me back into your house.” He heard your groan and his grin only widened. “Mhm. One time wasn’t enough?”
“I’m going to skin you alive Zweig.”
“I love when you talk like that. It’s kinda hot knowing you think about me…even if it is about my demise.”
A scowl formed on your face as your hand tightened over your phone. Damn him.
“You’ll be here in 30 minutes or i will make sure you can’t have any children.”
He chuckled, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He could almost picture the look on your face, the way your jaw clenched as your eyes would darken just a smidge.
“Anything you say, Sweetheart.”
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
It only took one ring for you to open the door, a tight smile pulling at your lips as you let him in. “Just in time.” You mumbled not missing the way his eyes seemed to take an elevator sweep of your body.
Patrick grinned, hands shoved into his jeans as you closed the door. “Look’s like my future children are safe huh?”
“For now.”
You turned heading towards the kitchen before yelling over your shoulder. “Take your shoes off.”
Patrick rolled his eyes before kicking his shoes off and following you through the entryway. Noah looked up from his plate, his eyes widening before a bright grin broke out when he noticed Patrick behind you. He raised his hand in greeting which Patrick returned with a smile of his own.
“You remember how i spoke to you about what you did?” Noah’s gaze moved to you, his smile dulling slightly as he nodded. “Yeah.” You gestured to Patrick as you leaned against the counter.
Patrick frowned something in his chest pulling at the way the normally lively boy seemed subdued almost as he listened to you. “Patricks gonna talk to you about the conversation you had alright?” You pushed off the counter sending Patrick a look which said ‘Don’t fuck this up’ before you paused by the doorway.
“You're not in trouble.” You reminded gently. Noah nodded, his shoulders relaxing when he registered that Patrick wasn’t there to yell at him. You smiled before turning to leave. “Wait. wait, wait, wait. You're not gonna…stay” He gestured to your son.
“This is your problem.” You hummed watching as the man gaped at you. “You can solve this by telling him what you actually meant.” Patrick seemed to snap out of his shock. He’d caused this mess and now you were letting him talk to your son about it again! You were letting him parent your damn child!
He was not qualified for this.
You sighed stepping closer as Noah watched you both. “I already laid the groundwork you just have to reinforce it. He’s gonna listen to you since it's you who he listened to the first time.”
Before he could respond you’d already wandered away. He watched for a moment as you disappeared up the stairs before he turned back to the boy. Taking a small breath he clapped his hands before pulling out the chair next to him.
“Alright kid, ready to talk?”
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
Half an hour later you were growing angsty. They were still talking. You hadn’t heard any screaming yet, neither had Patrick come looking for you which you assumed was a good thing.
Though you were quickly running out of chores. You’d cleaned your room and his room before doing both bathrooms. It couldn't help to just go and check…right?
Curiosity getting the better of you, you quietly returned downstairs. The soft echo of voices reached your ears as you paused by the kitchen door, peering through the crack. Your lips parted in slight shock as you watched your son nodding eagerly at whatever his coach was saying.
He was practically half-lent across the table as he listened. The room fell quiet for a moment before your son's voice filled the silence. “Mommies still mad.” He said, his lips pulling into a frown. “Your Mom’s not upset bud.” Patrick sighed resting a hand on the table.
“She’s probably just shocked more than anything. Shocked and maybe disappointed but she's not mad.” He reassured, his tone softer than you’d ever heard. Something in your chest pulled as you watched the two. The way your son shifted ever closer filled you with a slight warmth.
Your ex wasn’t the best father, too caught up in his own company even when he had Noah to make an effort. You knew he was missing a male role model and you’d spent many nights kicking yourself for the downfall of your relationship.
He really trusted Patrick. You swallowed your hand curling over the door knob as your son got off his chair. You watched with bated breath as he stopped by Patrick's legs, his small voice mumbling. “Hug?”
Patrick seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes glancing around the room. He didn’t seem to notice you before he looked back down to Noah’s pleading gaze. “Sure buddy.” He smiled helping the boy climb into his lap.
Patrick fumbled for a moment before figuring out the best way to hold him, his large hands rubbing over his back. “You know you're really lucky right?” Noah hummed pulling back slightly. “How?”
Patrick smiled. “Your mom really loves you. The fact she was so worried over this means that she really cares okay? I promise you she’s not mad.” Noah nodded. “She's not mad,” he repeated, the message finally seeming to sink in as he buried his head back into Patrick's chest.
His hand continued to rub soothing patterns as he let himself enjoy the affection. It made his heart warm almost the way the little boy seemed to finally properly relax. “You really hit the jackpot.” He teased feeling Noah shift.
“I’m pretty sure you got the best mom in the whole world.”
Noah giggled pulling back again. “I did!” He grinned.
You stepped back, your head hitting the wall as their voices drifted into the background. Taking a breath you tried to suppress the smile pulling at your lips as the scene replayed over and over in your head.
Patrick thought you were a good Mom. The thought was insane. The fact that you liked it was even wilder.
Taking a breath you pushed off the wall. You’d let them be for now.
#challengers#patrick zweig#challengers movie#challengers 2024#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x y/n#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig fic#patrick zweig fanfiction#challengers patrick#challengers x reader#challengers x you#josh o'connor#challengers x y/n#josh o'connor x reader#challengers imagine#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#tashi duncan#.challengers#.patrickzweig#.mine
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⟣ welcome to gojoath's 𝒴𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝒴𝒰𝒯𝒜 masterlist! all fics include yandere themes so please read the warnings on each individual fic before interacting :) all characters are written as adults / aged up. minors dni.
listen to the playlist for the series here.
DRABBLES / FICS
˖ ݁ . ࿓ the fics are in rough order of how they happen (kinda)
hello, you — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you think it’s a funny stroke of fate that you keep running into the same pretty stranger, albeit not in your best moments. little do you know, he’s known you for months before that.
i’ll give you my heart — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you think it’s going well with yūta— the new guy you just started dating despite the way you’ve only seen eachother a handful of times. that’s exactly what he wants you to believe though, this is all going according to his plan.
take your turn — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta has always been a giver when it comes to you and your pleasure, but you do think it’s about time that you repay the favour.
ease the ache — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your glad your boyfriend yūta was always prepared, offering you a sleeping pill when you were having trouble was helpful— but why do you feel so needy suddenly?
two halves of a whole — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you. wc, 2k.
stay home instead — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you loved your boyfriend, you did. but you think there’s only so much of his.. devoted personality you can take before the cracks begin to show. wc, 6.4k.
are you still watching? — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your boyfriend, yūta, doesn’t ever like sharing what’s his. apparently that statement goes for your fictional crushes too. wc, 3.2k.
never have i ever — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you. wc, 9.2k.
learn to play nice — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you know that your boyfriend yūta could be a little bit… difficult, but as much as you love him, you can’t let him get away with it all the time. wc, 5.1k.
the part that lingers — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yuta finds it hard to live his life without you, it’s even harder for him to get off when you’re not there. you’ve unintentionally broken him that way. but it’s okay, he still has his ways of ending up wrapped in you. wc, 2.8k.
just as he left you — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your (ex) boyfriend yūta decides to pay you a visit on his way home from a mission. although he forgot how pretty you look when you’re asleep.. and how hard it is to resist. wc, 6.1k.
you said forever — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta’s never been one to back down easily. especially not after you told him you’d be together forever. soulmates. you can’t expect him to just let you go. wc, 4.9k.
EXTRA
just this once — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta thinks it’s cruel how good you feel despite the fact he’s not felt all of you yet. he knows that you can feel better, he hopes you’ll give him all of you just once, that should be enough to keep you forever. wc, 2.9k.
© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#repost for you guys who don’t get ao3 :)#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#cw yandere#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#yuuta smut#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x you#okkotsu yuta smut#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x you#okkotsu yuuta smut
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— wanted desires ; neteyam sully
pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader
synopsis ; too worried about being rough on you, neteyam won’t allow himself to give into his desires, despite you having never looked more ravishing. but, it’s simply been too long for you, and you can hold yourself back no longer.
word count ; 4.4k
themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)
warnings ; explicit content: pregnant sex, p in v sex, breast play, nipple play, ear kissing, but all kinda sensual??
author’s note ; (in this, ive kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked) so this has slightly less dad!neteyam in it & more horny neteyam which im sorry about. i really can’t decide if im happy with it but i want to go along with the plans i have for this series & this was a chapter i’d planned a while back. i had originally planned this to be more smutty but as i started writing this i just couldn't bc even tho it's dad!neteyam who’s just 🥵 he'd be too scared to hurt you, so, we've ended up with this?? i PROMISE the next one is absolutely fucking adorable & will have everything people want when it comes to dad!neteyam!! this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!
previous part ; next part
dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!
Neteyam was everything you could've asked for... and more.
As you slowly but surely started to reach the end of your pregnancy, the last stages just looming over your shoulders, he was always there for you. You were becoming more irrational, and there was no doubt in your mind that you were annoying everyone you came into contact with. But, each and every one of them seemed to understand, and none better than Neteyam.
Your mate was constantly by your side - physically or mentally - tending to your every need and abiding by your every request. Hormones getting the better of you, you also started to take your problems and own annoyances out on him. It was completely unfair and it always made you feel incredibly guilty and horrible in the end, crying your eyes out in your mate's arms as all you could do was apologise profusely.
But, not once did he hold it against you. No - instead of taking every harsh word you uttered to him to heart, instead of truly believing that you meant them, he allowed the blows and the insults to be thrown his way, soaking them in until your temper died down and there was nothing but an exhausted, drained and broken girl in front of him. After that, he'd soothe your apologies, caging you in his arms protectively, stroking both the top of your head and your expanding stomach whilst he assured you he understood that you hadn't meant all those words, that it was okay.
He'd insist that he didn't mind taking such aggravation, not when you were doing all the hard work... not when you were carrying his entire world on your shoulders.
To no surprise of anyone, his family were as perfect as they could be, too, always either giving you a helping hand, or steering clear less they want to say the wrong thing. It was obvious from the very start of the stark differences between the two sides of Neteyam's - and, you guess, your own - family.
When it came to those that were always supportive and understanding, it was always the girls. Neytiri would constantly make sure that you were the most comfortable in any situation you found yourself in, wanting to ensure that the mother was safe and healthy before anything else; Kiri was, without fail, bringing you different concotions made by both herself and Mo'at that helped ease your pain and soothe your anxieties; and Tuk, consistently babbling about how excited she is to finally meet her niece or nephew, planning out how all she's going to do when they arrive is dote on them. Each of them had created their own roles to play in your pregnancy, and each one comfortably took your mind off the worries that were swirling around, believing that simply nothing could go wrong when you had such beautiful people around you all the time.
On the complete other side, there were the boys. Both Jake and Lo'ak were different stories compared to the rest of their families - whilst the two of them were as excited and eager to meet your baby, too, neither one of them wanted to really get too involved, something that didn't exactly bother you, rather just making you giggle at their reactions. They gave you as much space as possible, too scared to get too close in case they either annoyed you or did something wrong. Whilst Jake had done this many times before, gone through several of these similar experiences with his own mate, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries between yourself and his eldest son, considering he had no idea what it was like carrying a baby for so long. And, Lo'ak... Lo'ak was just scared of his older brother.
After all, you were now considered delicate, and they knew if something happened to you, they'd be on the feral side of Neteyam... something neither of them particularly wanted to experience any time soon.
But, there was one thing that you couldn't stand during all of this, and, surprisingly, it wasn't anyone else trying to help.
It was Neteyam, and the fact that he wouldn't touch you.
Way more often than you were used to, you found yourself feeling sexually frustrated, the only thing you needed being for yourself and Neteyam to be intimate in the same way that got you in this situation in the first place. You narrowed your sudden feelings down to the fact that it had been so long - whilst the two of you never really had sex all the time before becoming pregnant, after being denied of your wants for an excruciatingly long period of time now, you were slowly teetering over the edge.
And, it wasn't as though you weren't trying, either. Your attempts of kissing him sensually, gaining beautiful-sounding moans out of him before he forced himself away from you; touching him explicitly, feeling him shudder under your grasp, before he moved himself impossibly further away from you, eyes scrunched tight as he held himself back; laying yourself bare for him when he go home, before he sighed dejectedly and shook his head, doing his damn best to ignore you... all to waste.
Neteyam just couldn't stand the idea of hurting you or the baby.
Sure, you guess you could understand where he was coming from, too, considering neither of you had been in this situation before, having no idea if having sex could harm either one of you, and the both of you were too prideful to ask someone else about it. So, you were stuck in what felt like a never-ending loop, enjoying itself as it tortured you blissfully.
But, you had never been so frustrated in your entire life.
The day had, once again, been a long and tiring one for the two of you, trying to let sleep overtake your entire senses and succumb to the world beyond. You were lay down upon your mat, the two of you on your sides - something that always felt more comfortable against the pains in your stomach, so Neteyam was happy to oblige - as your mate's front curls into your figure, his tail automatically wrapping itself around your bump protectively, like it always did, like a ritual.
That's when you started to feel it.
Your mind was beginning to deny you of any sleep anyway, your arousal once again getting the better of you as it painted your wanted desires within the forefront of you mind's eye until there was nothing else you could think of. But, it seemed as though Neteyam was feeling something, too - a bulge poking against your lower back, throbbing gently every now and again like it was demanding your attention, like it was excited.
For a moment, you wondered if Neteyam had even noticed his own predicament, considering he was the one so desperate to not engage in this way, and now he's aching. It's ironic that the roles have suddenly reversed, and you wonder how next to play this out.
Taking in a shuddering breath when you feel his tail subconsciously stroke against your skin, you weigh up your options - you could either ignore it completely, knowing it'll be a fight to get him to give into you, allowing the sultry thoughts within your mind to be the only release you'd get... or, you could take control for yourself.
In no time at all, you decide upon the latter. It wasn't much of a decision to make, either, too wrapped up in the sensations you knew only he could give you, wanting nothing but him all over you.
You start of with the barest of movements, not wanting to completely pounce on him in surprise, knowing that if you did, he'd get angry. The best way to get him to give in was always going to be to get him weak. Fidgeting about in place, barely moving, you pretend as though you're subconsciously trying to get comfortable - after all, who was he to say that you weren't when carrying a Na'vi around constantly?
A small moan sounds behind you, under his breath like he hadn't meant for it to spill from his lips, but it already has you smirking slightly. Instantly, you know he wants this just as much as you do, and if your plan works how you intend it to, you'll both be falling asleep blissful and satisfied after too long of denying yourselves.
Your next step is start rubbing your ass against his bulge, but ensuring your movements stay slow, so as not to arouse him so suddenly. At the feel of him against you in such a sensual way, a breathy sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you forget how much you truly enjoyed the feel of his cock anywhere on you.
Just as you’re enjoying yourself, your ass continuing to rub painfully slow against his excitement, there's a rough hand placed firmly along the side of your hip. It's not too tight a grip, not wanting to hurt you or possibly bruise you, but it's enough to hold you down in place and stop your movements from carrying on any further. "Stop," Neteyam almost demands, voice gruff as though he's just woken up, which means he'd been dreaming about taking you like he always loved to.
His one word command does practically the complete opposite of its original purpose, however - instead of listening and giving into him, it only seems to fuel your fire, adding on to your already painful arousal. The way he said the word, sounding so authoritative and annoyed and just sexy has you wanting more, more, more. It definitely wasn't in his plans to have you reacting such a way, but you couldn't help yourself anymore, too far gone. This was the closest you'd been to one another in this way for too long.
Your response to him is a whimper, pathetic and pleading, as you force your hips to move once more despite him hand still placed firmly on you. When your ass brushes against his cock again, he hisses, the sensation no doubt sending him into overdrive, whilst his fingers hold a tighter grip, automatically indenting themselves into your skin.
"Please," you whine, breaths uneven and you were barely even touching each other. "Neteyam, please."
There's a brief moment of silence that lingers between the two of you as your words evaporate into the surrounding air, yourself guessing that it's now Neteyam's turn to weigh up the options set out before him. Unfortunately, he knows you like he knows the back of his own hand, meaning it's obvious straight away that you wont give in now that you're this close to getting what you want. Besides, despite having seen you plead for him to just touch you before you fell pregnant in a way that had him excited, he's never heard you like this - desperate, anguished, and downright aching.
It makes him feel more thrilled than he'd like to admit - especially to you, right in this moment.
With a sigh of defeat, Neteyam knows there's not much else he can do other than give you what you want - although, he could change how he does it. He removes his hand from your waist, tail staying still in its place like always, fidgeting about. You're unsure as to what exactly he's doing, not words or explanations exchanged, rather just letting him do what he wants. For a second, you wonder if your plan had backfired, and he was moving further away from you, or possibly even leaving. The thought has your heart aching in displeasure.
But, then all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you begin to feel a gentle prod against your soaked entrance, subconsciously lifting one of your legs slightly higher in the air at the sensation, before Neteyam is sheathing himself fully inside you. His hand closest to you wraps around your elevated leg to relieve you of the annoyance of lifting it up yourself. When all you can really feel is Neteyam, no longer empty but warm and full, a guttural moan escapes your lips before you can trap it, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth, eyes closed tightly as you take him whole.
You hadn't truly realised how long it had been since you last felt him this way until now. Curse him and his damn protective instincts.
In just seconds, you want nothing more than to chase more of that feeling, more of that euphoric sensation, rubbing yourself impossibly closer to him as the tip of his cock hits such a sweet spot, you're sure you're with the Great Mother in some type of beautiful heaven right now.
Before you can go any further, though, Neteyam's palm finds your hip again, stopping you in place and this time, you don't bother trying to hold yourself back. The whimpers and whines that leave your throat at such a denial are mewling and pitiful, writhing about to relieve yourself of his hold, but he's relentless. Somehow, his entire body is closer to you than it was last time, faces inches away from one another as he brings his lips to your ear. At first, all you can decipher are breathless pants as his chest heaves up and down from trying to hold himself back. "No," he grunts, puffing as he attempts to gain control once more, "we're not doing that. We're going to stay like this - that's the best I'll give you."
This time, it's a groan that falls from your lips, one that sounds almost painful but you're too annoyed to care, cursing out everything for Neteyam being such a gentleman. All you want is for him to fuck you - was that so much to ask? You're not even sure if the situation you've put yourselves in is any better than having nothing, either, because now you can feel all of him entirely, can feel how excited he is to finally be inside you as his cock throbs in pleasure at being snuggled between your walls. Now, it just feels like a taunt of what you could have.
He chuckles softly against your ear at your reaction, still having not moved - and he probably wouldn't now, not unless he wanted to really feel you. The teasing smile is wiped off his features after a second, however, and replaced by one of sympathy, words becoming softer than they were before. "I'm sorry, muntxate (wife), I really don't want to hurt you or our 'evenge (girl)."
There's just a brief split second where his loving words filter through you and knock your senses apart - of course, he wouldn't want to hurt his girls, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ever did. The idea of anyone harming either of you drove him insane, let alone the cause of your pain being him. But, your fleeting emotions cascade into ones of just pure desire, filtering in one ear and out the other until your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud, panting desperately for more.
You give yourself a moment to just breathe, to not hyperventilate at the exultant feeling of him fully inside you. Neteyam assures that his grip stays firm against your hip, not wishing to relent against his own commands so easily, but he does rub his thumb in a soothing circle, painting your skin with a reminder of how much he loves both you and your child.
You're quick to move your hips again, eyes staying closed as you imagine everything he could be doing to you right now, rubbing yourself against him entirely. Immediately, your mate tightens his fingers in his grasp, a clear warning sign for you to stop in your teasing, to just bask in the embrace of one another and say that's enough.
Yet, it isn't enough. It's nowhere near being enough for you. There's a feeling of being slightly impressed at the restraint he's showing to you, and irritated all the same, until another idea comes to your mind.
Smiling a little smugly to yourself, already knowing what you're about to do next is something he definitely cannot resist based on the previous times you've done it, you clench your fluttering walls around his length, taking him whole and tightly. Your own actions cause a breath of blissful relief to pass through your slightly parted lips, loving the way you can feel his cock throb even more.
Another hiss sounds against your ear, his grip tightening, but this time, so does his tail as it continues to stay wrapped firmly around your bulging figure, the end vibrating in a fever of both agitation and anticipation. Even his body desires it, but he wont allow his mind to. He's starting to pant a little more frequently, too, now, like he's weakening at the seams, and that's when you know you have him exactly where you want him.
You continue to clench around him, bringing your hips up and down his length at a tantalisingly slow pace to ensure he feels every inch of you, hitting every spot of your walls. There's a feeling of triumph coursing through you when he no longer attempts to stop you in your teasing movements, knowing he's finally allowed himself to give into you entirely. Instead, the hand that was once gripping your hip snakes its way around your front, fondling against your breasts as he squeezes them sensually. When he moves to the other one, wanting to give it the same attention, he pinches your nipple, loving how sensitive they are due to your pregnant state, eliciting a deep moan from the back of your throat, no longer caring if anyone else can hear you.
"You're a little minx, you know that?" he taunts, words a harsh whisper against your ear but you don't care - not when the once slow movements between the two of you suddenly increase in their pace as Neteyam takes over. The alternating grip, too, against your breasts tightens, constantly squeezing them as he soaks in how swollen they feel. "Always getting what you want."
The tip of his cock repeatedly probes against that sweet, spongy part within you so beautifully as his thrusts continue to increase in their speed. Your mate almost feels feral with his actions, perhaps finally realising that he shouldn't have denied the two of you the pleasure of one another, not when you were so needy. Not wanting to stop clenching around him as he moves in and out of you in a relentless pace, you can feel your release quickly approaching already, no doubt having felt forsaken for so long - you're sensitive enough as it is being pregnant.
"Neteyam-" you moan beautifully, breathily, like a songcord to your mate's ears, sure he's never head you sound so ethereal before. You have to cut yourself off as you moan in pleasure when you start to feel his balls slapping sensually against your skin, the warm sensation within wrapping around you like a blanket, one you never want to get rid of.
He brings his head closer than it already was, burying his face within the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Sometimes he wishes he could drown in your scent, more so than ever now that you're pregnant - somehow, you managed to emit an even more delicious scent than before. Sucking against your particular sweet spot he knows you adore having his attention on, he ensures to leave behind at least a small mark, wishing for the entire clan to know that you were his, even though you're carrying his firstborn, wanting to be sure.
Lips moving feverishly against your warm skin as he continues to fuck you at a pace that was relentless, your pleasing moans scratching against the back of your throat, he eventually finds himself at your ears, placing soft kisses against them. The sensation has them fluttering in satisfaction, but then he trails down to suck harshly against your jaw, and your breath stutters, whining. "Mmm," he hums against your skin, now resorting to placing gentle kisses when he was once rough. "What is it, sevin (pretty)?"
In all this time, whilst his mouth was focused elsewhere, not once had his thrusts faltered, loving the way you’re so drunk on him entirely.
"I'm - I'm so close, 'teyam," you mewl, eyes slightly rolling to back of your head as he grunts at yet another clench from you around his cock, before you close them shut when they start to tear up.
"I know," he agrees, words just a breathy whisper, already being able to understand how close you truly are from the way you feel around him. It feels like his mind is on fire as your walls flutter from being so close to release, clenching and unclenching around him, having lost its rhythm. His pants are becoming more erratic now, bearing down upon you, but it makes you feel alive. "I'm close, too."
Quickly, knowing that the two of you wont be able to last much longer, he brings his queue forward, the tendrils reaching out as he then connects it with your own awaiting one. Movements now becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, but continuing to hit right at your cervix, your eyes widen as you start to feel everything he currently is - all the love, the desire, the frustration - bathing in one another like two pieces of a puzzle only made for you two.
Burying his head back in the crook of your neck, hand moving down to caress your swollen baby bump - one that's just moons away from its expected day - he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, wanting to tattoo them into you so you'll never forget them. Words like I love you, you're so beautiful, I can't wait to make more, having you crooning somehow more than ever, feeling him peppering kisses to you now.
It's not long after that when the two of you are finally releasing together, explicit moans and grunts escaping your lips as your arousal's become spent. "Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam-" you repeat his name like a prayer, having never sounded more amazing to your mate.
You can feel the mixture of your cum with his against Neteyam's cock, awaiting the feeling of becoming empty and cold when he removes himself from you and lets it trickle between your thighs. But, nothing of the sort happens. Rather, your mate stays put, keeping his cock in your warmth, snug, and therefore, keeping all his cum pushed further in you - something he's always loved to do.
Eyes closed in bliss, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, Neteyam gives your stomach a few tender taps, garnering your attention. Before you can fully move your head on your own, Neteyam's hand moves to cup the side of your face, bringing your noses together as you breathe one another in. He presses a forgiving kiss against your lips, letting them linger against one another, not wanting to pull away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, the worry and concern evident in both his tone, but also the way you notice his ears droop and eyes glaze over just at the thought.
Looking up at him, you give him the most loving smile you could muster, shaking your head adamantly. "No, ma'teyam," your words are gentle, soothing, "we're both okay, I promise." You make sure to kiss him again with the same softness he gave you, wanting to ensure he completely understood that you meant every word, that you were okay.
This time, when you pull away, he nuzzles your noses together in a domestic way he's started to do since a few moons ago - the same way he likes to do it with your stomach, like he's doing it with your daughter. Pressing his forehead against your own, his eyes never once leave yours, full of adoration and devotion. "I'm sorry I was neglecting you..."
Instantly, your heart sinks at his words, your hand moving up to caress his cheek soothingly like he does yours. You can hear the despair and brokenness behind his voice, and it only pains you further - Neteyam couldn't have been a better mate throughout this entire journey together, but he didn't understand that. He always thought he had to be perfect, that he had to do everything right straight away, but this was a journey you were experiencing for the first time together.
Neteyam couldn't neglect you if he tried. He's too doting, too domesticated, too tender to even think about doing such a thing.
"You do not need to apologise, my muntxatan (husband). I understand why you were worried - but you never neglected me, not once. You were just scared, and so am I..." you pause, your once sympathetic and caring expression turning teasing and menacing, "...but, now that we know that it doesn't do either of us any harm, maybe we could do it more often..."
He chuckles at your words, watching as you bite your lips in mock thought, attempting to hide the sultry smile playing at your lips. It's like your words instantly managed to clear his worry, feeling it dissipate at your loving reassurance, until his eyes were bright and his smile wide, looking down at you like you held the entire universe within you.
In a way, he supposed you did.
"I guess we could..." he relents, his own tone turning into one of teasing, too, smirking as he brings your faces closer into a sensual kiss. This one is all tongues and teeth clashing together, feverish in anticipation to experience more together now that the worries once clouding over the two of you had begun to part.
As his hands roam over your body, from your jaw, to your neck, to your breasts, and finally to your stomach, caressing every inch of your skin like you were a painting, he moves to hover over you, mindful not to put his weight on top of you. A giggle falls from your lips at his sudden change in demeanour, but that's soon swallowed by another deep kiss that has your breath dispersing almost immediately.
It was safe to say, with the amount of times the two of you came together as one just during that particular night, if you weren't pregnant beforehand, you definitely would've been after that.
taglist ;
@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog
#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#neteyam#neteyam sully#avatar#avatar 2#neteyam fluff#neteyam smut#neteyam x reader#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam x you#neteyam sully x you#neteyam x female reader#neteyam x fem reader#neteyam x pregnant reader#dad!neteyam#dad neteyam#dad neteyam series <3
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ZAYNE: An Introduction
Xavier | Rafayel | Sylus
Pairing: Zayne x Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: The morning after, fingering (f receiving), P in V, cream pie (wrap it before you tap it), premature ejaculation (if you squint),
Welcome to part 2 of this series! This series is me introducing you all to how I write for them. Requests are open and feel free to leave a comment cause I love them and read them. It also keeps me motivated!
A/N: Reader uses they/them pronouns but has the inner bits. I turned on one of my spicy playlist and this idea came to me while I was at work 😭. Can’t believe I get paid to fantasize about the boys while on the clock. Anyway this is about as fluffy and soft as I can go tbh 😭. I always picture him as the most delicate with the MC and it’s probably because he is literally their GP (general practitioner). I actually had a lot of fun with this one and I got kinda carried away. Let me know if I missed anything in the tags! Anyway! Enjoy!
“Good morning my love. Was your sleep adequate?”
Zayne plants a kiss on the top of your head as you stir awake.
“Adequate? You sound so serious like you weren’t inside me eight hours ago. But yes my sleep was “adequate.”
You lean up to plant a kiss on his lips and drape your arms around his neck. An off day for the both of you usually starts the night before. It starts innocently enough but pretty soon his fingers are buried inside you preparing you for the long night ahead. The morning sun shines in through the curtains as you take him in. Hair messy, lips swollen, eyes closed taking in the morning. You feel yourself fall just a little bit more in love with him.
“What are you thinking about?”
He breathes out, catching you staring at him. He breaks out into a blush as you slide your hands down to his chest. You toy with one of his nipples absentmindedly.
“How you love me. How you make love to me. How happy I am I have you.”
He lays you down on your back in one fluid motion. You immediately open your legs to him and he chuckles.
“And someone complained they’d be sore today. Seems like they’re just fine to me.”
With one hand he grips your hip while the other lightly rubs your clit. You arch your back into his touch but it’s not enough. A whimper slips past your lips as you bite your lip.
“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”
Still prepped from the night before he slides in two fingers with ease. You arch higher desperate to feel him in every cell of your body. With expert precision he finds your sweet spot and doesn’t let up. All composure leaves you as you fall apart on his fingers. He continues to fuck and scissor you open with expert care as you fight the urge to fuck yourself on his fingers. You feel the familiar clench and in your stomach but before you can hold it off he flicks your clit with his thumb. Every nerve in your body snaps and you cry out his name as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body shakes and bends into his touch extending your release. As you’re coming down from his touch you make eye contact with him. He slides all three fingers onto his tongue and begins to suck. He moans as he savors the taste of you in his mouth and you can’t look away. He releases them with a pop and sits up. You reach for his face and lean up to kiss him. He opens his mouth to you and you taste yourself on him. The taste of you on his lips made you wet all over again. He pulls away with a groan. You can feel how hard he is and you feel yourself about to gush. He sits back on his heels and looks you directly in the eyes.
“Are you okay? Do you want to continue?”
“Yes. Please fuck me.”
With no hesitation he lays you down once again while lining himself up with your entrance. You sigh as he slowly pushes in, rubbing circles on your hips to get you to relax. Your body is still alight from your last high you know you won’t last much longer. With one more thrust he bottoms out. You both stay there for a moment listening to each other breathe. He starts a slow pace trying to hold off both of your releases but it’s just not enough for either of you. You run your nails down his back in hopes he’d speed up. Your back is arched, moaning right in his ear as he goes harder. He mutters and groans your name and you know he’s close. You’re not fairing much better, tendering right on the edge. The nerves in your body are once again on edge begging for release.
“Zayne I’m close, cum for me.”
The unexpected command has him blowing his load deep inside of you before he’s ready. The feeling of his cum filling you up makes you clench down, your release milking him dry. You both stay like this for a while, processing what exactly just happened.
“I think you like commands Doctor Zayne.”
He pulls out of you with a whine while blushing a deep shade of red.
“It would appear so. I think this requires further research.”
He assesses the mess you’ve both just made and gets up to get a wash cloth. He comes back and begins to wipe you down with his familiar gentle touch.
“But for now just rest.”
He finishes cleaning up and comes to lay back down with you. He pulls you into his arms and lays his head on yours. Snuggled up in Zayne’s arms, you listen to his heartbeat. The subtle drum of it lulling you back to sleep.
#zayne#l&ds zayne#lads zayne#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#lnds zayne#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#zayne x you#love and deepspace x mc#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#dr zayne#lads mc#lads smut#lads x reader#lads#l&ds x reader#l&ds smut#l&ds#l&ds x you#lnds mc#lnds smut#lnds#lnds x reader#love and deepspace smut
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