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8lyme · 4 months ago

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Heat Rises

Logan Howlett x f!Reader

SUMMARY: The mansion is boiling hot

WARNINGS: excessive use of italicisation, borderline dirty thoughts, makeout scene bc that's the best i can do, maybe ooc bc I fear I imagine Logan a little funnier than he actually is.

a/n: the ac in my room broke and inspiration struck after I doomscrolled through wolverine edits on tiktok ... chat i love men

It was hot. Boiling. Stifling.

You woke up at 2 a.m. drenched in sweat, sucking in a deep breath of hot, stale air. Grogginess fading, you stumble from your bed while pulling of your shirt and pajama pants. You open the door to the bathroom and turn the cold water on in the sink.

The heat was dripping down your back despite your lack of clothing. Overheating and still half-asleep, you stuck your head into the stream of cold water, splashing over your neck and across your shoulders.

You straighten to tie your hair up before turning the water off and running your still cold hands down your arms. The patter of thudding sounded outside your door, and you move to dress in a thin tank top and shorts.

You let your eyes adjust to the light as you began walking down the hallway of the mansion. A few children slipped out of their rooms in similar sweaty conditions to follow you down the staircase and onto the main floor.

Gathered by the professor's office were Scott, Storm, and Jean. The stray young mutants who trailed you settling around them.

"Goodmorning," You call out the the group.

"Do you know who turned this place into a boiler?" Jean asks. You both swipe sweat off your foreheads in sync while you shrug, shaking your head.

"Jesus, my glasses are gonna slide off my face," Scott complains, knocking his head against the wall in exasperation. He was shirtless, (rightfully so) wearing what you guessed were swim trunks.

"Charles is working on it," Jean put a hand on his shoulder, then quickly removing it to wipe his sweat off her hand and down the wall.

You turn to Storm, who was pulling the fabric of her tank top to fan herself off.

"Do we know where Bobby is?" You ask in search of the Iceman. You turned to scan the room, addressing the three students who followed you.

"Pretty sure him and Rogue took off before lights out," a young girl from the floor calls out. Her mutation rubberized her molecules, and her legs were in misshapen puddles - akin to flat stanley - due to the heat.

"Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here," a familiar voice groans loudly from behind you. "Nice shorts." Logan said to you before reaching your side.

"Alright fashion police," you respond in mock annoyance, offering a small smile at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He shot you a wink before turning away. When you caught full sight of him, your face froze and (if possible) more sweat rolled down your spine.

It was sickening how attractive he managed to look in what felt like the inside of an air fryer. Having clearly just woken up, his hair was perfectly tousled into a messier version of his normal tufts. His hair hardly looked damp despite the oiled-up glow he had on his face ...

And torso.

Fuck he was shirtless.

Although you've known Logan for the better part of a year, you unfortunately failed to experience him half-dressed. You'd been in close proximity frequently - sparring and other various training taking a large percent of that. You were friendly with each other, his acknowledgement of you with a nod whenever you walked in a room affirming he didn't hate you. You normally ate breakfast together, often offering the other the last portion of cereal or setting aside an extra cup of coffee for whoever entered the kitchen second. Within the last few months, however, after a particularly unfortunate mission gone wrong in almost every way, your friendship became more affectionate in those 'off the clock' moments.

Quick but firm hugs, slinging his arm over your shoulders, nudging each other with elbows or hips at inside jokes. He'd also been placing a hand on your back or shoulder every time he was in proximity to do so when moving behind you; in the kitchen, during briefings, even while you were grading papers in the library. He would touch your shoulder to let you know he was moving past you or going to sit next to you.

All that is to say you were aware - in theory - he was well built. He was taller and broader than you, so you made an educated guess. Theory proven, but well beyond expectations.

A month ago, you and Scott had stopped at a Texas Roadhouse an hour outside of the city after having spent two weeks clearing out a mutant experimentation lab in eastern Quebec. The plump and shine of the appetizer rolls (that you and Scott had both equally asked for seconds of) had absolutely nothing on Logan.

He damn near glistened. The dim light of the mansion sconces bronzed his skin, cutting him into an even more defined picture for you to look at. His chest expanded with each breath, shoulders and pecs slightly flexing in response. His hands lazed on his hips, if even possible causing the room's shadows to shade in the dips of his biceps and forearms. The veins of his arms just barely covered by the moisture-slicked hair covering his skin. If you had a fork and knife, you would throw them behind you to happily eat a piece of him with your hands.

You had to force yourself to swallow to shock your brain into looking anywhere else. You made an 'eaugh' sound and swiped your hands across your face. You meant it defensively, but you really were dripping into your eyes.

"I feel like I'm being waterboarded," you say disgustedly while wiping your palms on the back of your shorts. Feeling a texture that wasn't fabric, you turned your head. Glancing down, you understood Logan's earlier comment.

These shorts must have been from your freshman year of high school that somehow never got tossed or donated. They were a pair of (very) short, low-cut and dull pink velour Juicy Couture shorts with the word 'Juicy' spelled out in rhinestones on the ass. You actually felt like hurling as your body got even hotter.

You slowly turned your face away from the glittery stones on your booty to unfortunately glance in Scott's direction. His hands covering his mouth to block how obviously he was holding in a laugh.

"Scott, don't even look at me right now," you groan in exasperation, crossing your arms over yourself in attempted modesty. Scott's eyes glitter, and you snap "Keep your mouth shut" at him to no avail.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass?" He snickers. "In rhinestones?"

He's cracking up now with his hands in fists over his mouth. Jean bites a smile away and looks down, shaking to stifle a giggle. You look across the room to the kids who are choking down laughter themselves.

"Oh my fucking God-uh!" you again groan out, covering your eyes. "I really liked Jersey Shore when I was in High School, guys, leave me alone!"

Storm bursts into a laugh that inspires the others to join in. You're cracking up too, mortification disappearing. You glance at Logan through your fingers, who surprisingly seems to be choking back a laugh himself.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan clears his throat. "Save her from embarrassment?"

"Not how it works," She says. "I can't pull cold air or moisture out of this heat to create any snow." She looks at you and winks. "Sorry J-Wow, the shorts are staying on."

Scott about keels over with a snort before Jean thwaps him in the shoulder.

"If we bring you enough bags of ice, could you use that to cool the building down then?" Jean asks.

"In theory," Storm says. "I can stay here with the students to wait for the professor if you all don't mind searching for some. I'll need to conserve energy if I have to create a blizzard out of thin air."

"Copy. Divide and conquer," you say glancing at Logan again. The four of you turn to wander the mansion, but you stop to turn back to Storm.

"Also," you call back to her. "I'm so obviously Snooki."

Scott barks a laugh from the other corridor as you trot after Logan. He turns to meet you with a confused look on his face.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

Logan daydreamed about upper-cutting Scott with his claws unsheathed. He fantasized about throwing him down the stairs and curb-stomping him after. He imagined speeding over him on his own motorcycle and drilling him into the asphalt.

Right now, as your face flushed with embarrassment over your bedazzled booty shorts, he wished he had enacted any of those in reality so he had never, ever, heard Scott say a word about your ass.

Logan was used to waking up in a sweat, heart racing as he yelled out in anger (or fear, he couldn't tell which) from the nightmare that slipped from him the longer his eyes were open.

This time, he awoke uncomfortably hot and sprawled out diagonally above his sheets. He pushed himself up onto his knees and rubbed his eyes. He took a beat to wake himself up and stared at the clock on his nightstand blinking at 2:00 am.

He found it impossibly hotter in the hallway, swiping his palms on his pants every few steps. He regretted not scouring his room for shorts or even a pair of briefs. He moved down the stairs and rounded, following the sound of conversation. He dragged his sweaty palms across his pants again, groaning out; "Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here".

And then he almost tripped over his own feet.

You stood facing away from him, hands clasped on top of your head, in the tiniest clothing humanly possible. You wore a thin, strappy little yellow tank top that ghosted just under your ribs. In the dimmed lighting, your skin glistened, droplets of sweat gliding down your neck, your spine - fucking hell, was your sweat turning him on? - down your lower back, and -

Logan just about stopped in his tracks.

Impossibly tiny pink shorts clung to your ass, riding low on your hips. In glittering rhinestone, the word Juicy was bedazzled over the fabric. He felt like a dumb moth to a flame, trying to look like he wasn't seconds away from using his hands for some workplace misconduct.

"Nice shorts," he managed, trying to shake his head clear.

"Alright fashion police," you smirked up at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He winked at you, turning away to avoid staring at the beads sliding down your collar bone. Trying even harder to not imagine where the droplets would travel next.

Too focused on thinking about anything else in the world other than you, he blinked back into reality after Scott's voice grated his ears.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass? In rhinestones?"

Whatever you or anyone else responds with falls on his deaf ears. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood. His face tightened and he clenched his jaw.

He coughed to clear his head and interject into whatever conversation he's too furious to tune in to.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan paused, coughing again to catch himself from saying anything related to freezing Scott solid so he can shatter him to pieces. He settled on "Save her from embarrassment?"

Once again, Logan half-listened and half-internally plotted extreme violence, perking back in at the sound of your voice. He turned to you as you catch up with him.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

You declined to continue to explain trash TV to Logan. You settled on "It's entertaining to watch people be out of touch with reality", to which he quipped back a "That's stupid", effectively shutting you up.

The both of you wandered to the kitchen, you fanning yourself as Logan tried not to burst a blood vessel while holding to his willpower to not watch you tilt your head back and exhale while uttering whines of complaint. He decided the amount that his was sweating coupled with the lack of sleep made him delusional. That's why his brain kept trailing back to the same thought: you.

You pulled open the bottom drawer of the fridge, exposing the freezer. The rush of cool air fanned at your skin, and you signed in relief.

"Logan," you call, eyes closed. You waved him over and he leaned next to you.

"Oh my god," he quietly uttered out, eyes closing in relief. "Oh my god, this is better than sex."

You snorted and slapped your hand to your mouth.

"Logan, shut the fuck up" you giggle. He snickers back with you, shoulders shaking.

"Aw man," you groan, staring into the freezer drawer. Inside, there was an empty popsicle box, an half-eaten pint of strawberry ice cream, and an unwrapped ice-cream sandwich with freezer burn. You and Logan met each other's eyes with matching disappointed expressions.

You shut the freezer drawer, straightening up.

"I think there's a freezer in the basement lab," Logan says, sweat instantly beginning to drip down his neck.

"Aw man," you respond, lifting your arms slightly as sweat slides down you as well.

"Come on, bub," He moves around behind you. You feel the familiar ghost of his fingers against your back, but you recoil away at the thought of more heat against your body.

Logan yanked his hand away like he had been burned, gaze raking from you to his hand. You keep walking, not realizing how far behind you he's trailing.

---

He tries to shake it off, he really does. He feels stupid for letting something so small seep into his head and twist his thoughts around.

It's just because it's hot, he thinks to himself. Rationally, yes, he knows that is the answer. And yet he stupidly can't help but overthink every interaction he's had with you.

He masks it with a stony expression. The walk to the elevator is sticky and humid. When you both step in, he strays as far away from you as he can.

You've felt the shift in energy from him. He's pressed against the curved wall, arms crossed over his chest. It's palpable, but you aren't the type to pry when Logan is brooding.

He slips out of the opening doors first, relinquishing in the slightly cooler air of the lab. You trail after.

The air is awkward now. You fumble in your brain for the right words to say to him. 'Are you okay?' doesn't seem to cut it.

You've come to understand Logan. He has a complicated relationship with feelings and is awful at communication. If you don't notice the energy shift and bring it up, it isn't getting spoken about.

You follow him to a white metal crate pressed near a cabinet of saline. It's clasped shut and luckily on wheels. The precipitation on the outside confirming this is what you were looking for.

You place your hands on the corners of the crate to slide it from the wall, but Logan damn near rips it out of your hands. He shoves it across the lab towards the elevator.

You stare at him in shock and confusion. Your thoughts whir as you replay every moment from the entire day, convinced that he's pissed at you. He seems pissed. He's acting pissed.

You reach the elevator just as the door slides open. You're trying to decide if you should say something. Trying to think of a way to approach this in a way that will actually get him to talk. The air in the elevator is thick, more so with his shift in attitude than with heat.

Logan is locking himself inside his head. He can’t organize his thoughts and all he feels is stupidity. He can't understand why he's over analyzing, much less what he's over analyzing.

He doesn't know it's basically radiating off of him. Unaware that you've been staring at him to try and decipher what's wrong.

You utter out "Are you okay?" just to cut through the thick silence (and hopefully the wall he's locked himself in). You're sure he hears you, but the sliding of the door gives him the perfect opportunity to continue to ignore you.

Again, you trail after him. The wheels scrape against the hardwood, a testament to how hard he is pressing into the metal.

You're confused, sweaty, and almost on the verge of nonconsensual tears when you reach Storm and the other kids. The girl from the floor has turned into mostly puddle. Everything besides the tip of her shoulders and up are deflated to the wood. The other kids have spread to the floor themselves.

Logan shoves the crate towards Storm.

"Alright," he says curtly, once again crossing his arms. "Cool this shit down."

You fiddle with your fingers as Storm unlatches the metal. Her eyes gloss over to a milky white while she lifts the lid. The temperature drops almost instantly, and you begin to shiver.

"Done," She says, blinking away the glaze. "Charles said that-"

"Great," Logan cuts her off with a slam of the metal lid. He slides it around before moving back towards the elevator. You glance back and forth between Storm and Logan for a second. When you meet her confused expression, she gestures back towards him.

Ignoring the comfort of your sheets and lack of emotional drainage, you jog after Logan.

---

He huffs at you when you reach his side.

"I can push a metal box by myself," he says dismissively.

"Okay," you say, just to get something in the air. "Am I not allowed to come with you?"

You regret even speaking anyways as he scoffs at you, kicking the crate into the opening of the sliding door. It hits the wall with a loud clang. You flinch, but you're more concerned about him to not slip into the door at the last second.

You hug yourself as you start to shiver. Logan rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and turns away from you to lean against the wall. For the third time tonight.

You are racking your brain. Screaming at yourself to say something, literally any words at all. It feels like you've been panic-searching your thoughts for anything to say for a while.

"Are we not moving?" You ask. You wait for an answer before repeating, calling him by name and moving to stand in front of him.

He huffs before standing straight. After a beat, he says "We're not."

"Shit, how should we -" You start, but are cut of by the metallic unsheathing of Logan's Claws. In a blur he rears back and slices through the door, scraping three parallel lines across the metal.

"Jesus Christ, Logan!" You snap out at him. The glare he gives you while his claws sink into his skin makes you back up into the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?" you say evenly.

He scoffs at you, muttering out "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You just sliced the wall open," You point out, gesturing to said wall. "And you're acting like you're pissed at me"

"You're imagining things," he says back, resuming his position against the wall with his arms folded.

"Oh, that's bullshit. You're literally sulking in the corner and you want to tell me that isn't happening."

Logan stays silent. You almost expect him to turn into the wall so he can pretend to not see you.

"Logan," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "Why can't you be upfront with me? It's very easy to say 'Hey, you pissed me off because of this' or 'Oh, something sparked a bad memory' or, I don't know, 'I don't want to talk about it' "

"I don't want to talk about it," he responds. You smack the back of your head into the wall behind you in exasperation.

"Oh my god, obviously that was just an example. Please just tell me what's wrong."

Logan raises his eyes to meet yours for just a second. You catch his gaze, and you can tell that he wants to tell you. When you quietly say his name he looks away.

"Logan, you’re being mean." Your eyes flick over him, trying to catch any more indication that he'll open up. He stays stoick, stubborn piece of shit. You decide to wait just a moment longer before giving up. If he's going to be this adamant about whatever happened, you aren't about to keep fighting him on it.

"Okay, you’re pissing me off and I give up" You spit, sinking to the floor. You draw your legs up and fold into yourself, the chill of the room sinking into your skin.

It takes a long, awkward amount of time sitting in silence before you her Logan speak.

"You're cold," he states.

"No, I'm not," you say into your arms. Shivering.

"You look cold," he once again states plainly.

"I'm not, stop talking to me."

"I thought you wanted me to talk," Logan retorts at you. You look up at him over your arms, seeing a smug look on his face.

"Yeah, if the words you say are 'Hey, I'm sorry I'm being a dickhead and shoving stuff around and slicing into walls and ignoring you. I'm just thinking about X,Y and Z, which is making me feel X,Y and Z,' and then I would say 'Oh my gosh Logan, I had no idea! I'm so sorry, I wish you told me so I didn't make a big deal out of it because I thought you hated me!" You snap at him, mocking his voice for emphasis.

He blinks at you, and you move your head back into your arms.

"I don't hate you," he says quietly.

"You're acting like it."

"I don't."

The softness in his voice makes you sigh. You decide to take it easy on him, and ask him to come to you.

"What?" he asks, hesitation evident in his tone.

"Can you come sit next to me, please?" You ask softly.

"Why?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"Because I'm cold and you run much warmer than I do."

He moves and sinks down beside you, thankfully. You scooch closer until your arm is against his. The warmth of his body radiates against yours.

"Can you please talk to me?" you break the silence. The smallness in your voice chips away at his resolve, but his pride is still in the way. He's embarrassed enough about being upset in the first place, he can hardly stand (much less find the words) to say anything to you.

"Look, I'll literally cover my eyes so I'm not even looking at you," you offer, covering your eyes with your palms. "Please, just tell me."

"It's stupid," Logan says, pride dwindling down.

"I don't care, I promise. Please, Logan," You plead.

He sighs loudly, searching for the right words. He stutters out a few syllables before managing a sentence.

"In the kitchen earlier, you flinched away from me. I don't know. Didn't feel great."

Your hands dropped from your face. He was staring down at the floor. He looked embarrassed, maybe downright ashamed. You gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Logan, I'm sorry. It was just so hot and I felt all gross and sweaty. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."

"Okay," he says, but his eyes never left the floor.

"And that's not stupid. I freak out over the tiniest things in the world."

"Yeah?" he huffs out a small laugh, finally turning to you.

"Yes, duh, I'm a girl. One time you didn't sit in the stool right next to me and I had to suck my tears back in and I thought about it for two days straight," you told him.

"Because I didn't sit next to you?" he teases, and you push off of his arm in mock annoyance.

"Yes, I'm not kidding. I remember once when you came back from a mission you ignored me when I said 'hi' to you on the stairs and locked yourself in your room for almost two days. I was genuinely convinced you wanted me dead and I couldn't function until you'd brought me toast because you thought I was sick."

"You weren't sick?" He raises an eyebrow at you.

"No! I thought you wanted me to jump into oncoming traffic!" You laugh at yourself, feeling ridiculous after replaying those few days back in your head.

"Okay, okay, I get what you mean. I don't want you dead, by the way. Never will." His face has relaxed and the tension in the air completely dissipated. You tilted to rest your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat and enjoying the comfortable silence.

"Seems like I get you pretty worked up, huh?" Logan smiles to himself, knowing he'll get a rise out of you.

"I'm not answering that," you snort, giving him a side eye.

"Are you kidding me?" He says in a deadpan.

"No! I'm not answering that," you sputter, forcing an even tone out of yourself. "Why'd you get so upset about me moving away from you?" You shoot back.

"I'm not answering that," he says, and you now shove him away jokingly.

"Oh, come on!"

You both start to giggle at each other, needing to look at anywhere except at the other. Weight has been lifted off both of your chests, being stuck in the elevator long forgotten.

"So," Logan speaks, letting the word hang in the air for a second. He wonders if the feelings he's completely sure are mutual should remain unspoken. "Are either of us gonna do anything about," he gestures to the both of you. "Or..."

"Oh man, I was wondering which one of us was going to take the bait first," you giggle out to mask the nervousness settling in your chest. "You almost had me, I never figured you'd say anything."

"Did I?" He asks. You turn to him and meet his gaze, smirking at him. You hum happily after a few seconds, turning away from him to lean on his arm once more.

"So," Logan says again, so you mock him and echo the word back.

"So," he tries again, obviously wanting a certain response from you. You bite, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Oh my god, you can just kiss me. I'm cold, I'm not moving my arms," you say to him, earning a short laugh from him.

Logan moves and scoops you into him, sandwiching your arms between both your bodies. You slide one of your hands up him so that your fingertips reach his collarbone. His nose is just touching yours, and he tilts, barely touching your lips.

"So," he whispers against you. You snort and shove his face away with your free hand.

"Okay, nevermind! Get away from me!" You giggle, Logan following suit.

You feel Logan's hand move to the back of your neck, and you blink at him a few times with a small smile. Finally, he leans down to kiss you. You snake your free hand up to the side of his neck and grasp onto a few tufts of his soft hair. He leans into your touch slightly, so your curl your fingers in response.

One of his arms releases you to brace the floor for support, the other moving to hold you tighter. His fingers splayed across your shoulder blade as you slip your other arm out. You slide your hand up the side of his abdomen, almost moaning when the feeling of his back muscles reach your fingers.

You both pull away for a second to breathe before diving back into each other. Logan pulls you towards him, hand that was on the floor now sliding down your side to squeeze at the flesh of your hips.

He pulls back from you and presses and open mouthed kiss just under your ear. You crane your head back in response while feeling your way up the front of his body. Your fingers dip over the curves of his abs and over his chest, and then slide over his shoulder and down his arms. You think about the glisten of his body earlier in the night, the shadows of his muscular biceps and forearms.

"You and these damn shorts," he groans between the kisses he's now leaving on your collar. You let out a breathy laugh.

"I'll take them off later, they don't even fit," you say, pulling his face up so you can kiss him again.

"I hope you'll let me help," he says into your open mouth, causing you to squeeze your thighs together as you heat up.

The shrieking sound of metal against metal surrounds you both, and you shove Logan off you to scramble to your feet. He moves besides you, claws unsheathed on instinct.

The door of the elevator slowly slides open, coming to a halt while it's halfway open. Charles and Jean were waiting from the outside.

"There you both are," Jean huffs out. "You've been gone for about an hour."

"What time is it?" Logan asks, moving out into the mansion floor and sinking his claws back into his knuckles. You follow behind, the chill coming back to your skin.

"About 4:30 in the morning," Charles replies, gliding away from the opening of the metal door. "I suggest you all get some sleep while it's still early." He looks pointedly at you and Logan before rolling to face Jean.

"Agreed. Goodnight you two," Jean says, moving down the hallway to her room.

You and Logan make your way up the stairs, still buzzing. You stop at his door while he opens it. He turns to face you. Once again, you're back to staring at each other hoping you both can understand what the other is thinking.

"Well, good night Logan," You sigh. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

"You're not coming in?" He says while leaning against the door frame.

"Oh," you begin, a smile nervously making its way to your face. "Well ... I ..."

"I gotta help you with those shorts, remember?"

You can't help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth. You move towards him and step just into the doorway.

"I'll take all the help I can get," You say up at him. He takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arm and move you both through the door.

He turns you both, pressing your back against the wall next to the doorway, shutting the door as he molds his lips into yours. His hand slides under your flimsy yellow tank top as you hear the click of the door lock.

More than likely, neither of you were getting much sleep tonight.

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pearlzier · 6 months ago

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𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀sleepy gf quiet gamer bf, smut⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀✧

"that's it, baby, that's it, there we go, that's my girl," matt groans softly as you sink down onto his cock, the soft, wet squelching sound making his thighs tense faintly beneath you. he almost whimpers at the sight of you so blissed out, so sleepy but needy for him to fuck you. you'd woken up minutes before, soaked with need. he was surprised, to realise how wet you were, all because of him. but he was on call with his friends, so the two of you needed to be quiet.

being quiet was most definitely not your thing.

you were characteristically loud when in bed with matt. it wasn't your fault, necessarily. matt made you see fucking stars. so the blame for your borderline pornographic moans couldn't be placed solely on you. it was as much matt's fault as it was yours. as much as matt loved your pretty sounds, he also didn't want his friends overhearing the two of you when he was supposed to be focused on winning.

"gotta be quiet, ma," matt grunts, realising his friends are getting a little suspicious of how long his mic had been turned off. he would've kept it off the whole time so he could fuck your tight little hole as much as he wanted to, as much as the two of you wanted, but still. "don't want them to hear you, do you? hear how good you feel when i fuck you, huh?" you shake your head, to respond, but also to try shake away some of your drowsiness.

"don't want them to hear me," you agree quietly, slowly grinding your hips as you simultaneously shimmied a little more out of your fluffy pajama bottoms, the soft material brushing against matt's thighs causing him to groan a little bit. "gonna turn my mic back on, okay? gotta stay quiet for me." he turns it on, as promised, and he laughs at his friend's responses, giving you a quick look in the process.

you had to be quiet, because matt wouldn't be happy if you weren't. you knew what he was like when that happened, he was so unfair. your hands grasp at his shirt a little, as you shift your weight, and quiet little sounds slip past his lips at the way you move. he'd call you a tease if he didn't know how sleepy you were. no way you'd tease him in a state like this. his half-lidded blue eyes flutter over you and he smirks to himself, his hands preoccupied with the controller as he played.

it was up to you to get off, the look in his eyes told you. matt was busy with his game. he couldn't bounce you on his dick like he usually would, or hold you down so you could grind, no, you had to use your pretty head and think for yourself without his help for once. so cruel of him. you were the one who came to him all needy and horny in the first place, after all.

"mmh," you whine pathetically, under your breath, just quiet enough so matt's mic won't pick it up. he laughs at you, chuckles at how needy you are, mumbling under his breath, "go on then, baby, i can't help you." he's so mean, you think to yourself, as you try to lift your hips up and down on him. a low grunt slips past his lips, your walls gliding up and down on him.

"you're so mean," you huff out, trying to gain a momentum. you're so tired, as are your thighs, so moving is practically impossible. matt watches you for a moment, the impossibly slow pace you're setting making arousal coil in his stomach. he can barely stay quiet, grunts escaping him occasionally. "i ain't mean, baby, jus' busy." he was being unfair and he knew it.

this goes on for another fifteen minutes or so. you leaking on his dick, making a mess, unable to chase that releass you so dearly crave.

all while he laughs and jokes with his friends about a round of a game you honestly couldn't give two shits about.

eventually, he feels the tiniest shred of mercy. matt notices how sleepy you are and the way you're about to fall asleep with him inside, and he takes pity on you, deciding on finding a way to wrap up his gaming session with his boys. "s'gettin' late and i gotta do some shit in the mornin', but i'll catch up with you guys soon, aight?" his friends grumble agreements, a little disappointed as to their standards it wasn't even that late.

arguably 3am was late, but okay.

you don't start whining and whinging until you're absolutely sure his friends are gone, and it's like a dam's been broken the moment you are. "matt, please," you beg, "please, please.. wanna.. touch me, please," it's pathetic and whiny and you're absolutely not ashamed because he'd been a total dickhead in not helping you and now you just wanted to come. was that so bad?

"so needy, sweetheart.." matt mutters, a coy smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in the gaming chair, watching how you look, sat on him like that. his hands glide over your body, and you mewl at the touch, back arching instinctively. the way your tight walls squeeze him when your back arches urges him to finally give in and give you what you want, his hands sliding down to your hips. "just needed my attention, thought so," he starts slowly grinding his hips, bucking up into you in gentle motions. you let out soft gasps, pretty noises falling to his ears and only encouraging him more.

"that's it.. you ride my cock so pretty, ma," he's practically doing the work for you, since he knows how tired you are, but that doesn't mean he's not proud of you for even trying. his head tilts back, blue eyes watching you as he bounced you. "gonna fuck you so good, babe, make you see stars, huh? couldn't sleep? don't worry, baby, don't worry," he mumbles, oh, he'd get you to sleep. don't worry about it.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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noisilyscreechingsong · 8 months ago

Text

“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #red hood #tim drake #duke thomas #mad scientist #danny phantom #batman

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canthelpit0 · 8 months ago

Text

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun

#Spotify #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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flowersforbucky · 6 months ago

Text

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.8k

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.”

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees.

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all.

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.”

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?”

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.”

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.”

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.”

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding.

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape.

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning.

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee.

“Thanks, but I think I can–”

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?”

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun.

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC.

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride.

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch.

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can.

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.”

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour.

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–”

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth.

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision.

“Never because of me.”

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line.

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly.

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?”

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.”

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you.

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind.

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion.

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it.

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it.

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up.

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced.

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee.

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain.

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you.

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them.

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake.

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–”

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!”

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.”

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down.

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.”

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him.

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.”

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity.

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.”

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee.

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver.

— — — — —

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car.

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite.

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts.

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month.

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room.

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing.

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit.

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons.

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?”

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.”

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?”

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.”

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues.

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.”

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?”

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.”

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender.

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.”

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?”

— — — — —

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table.

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are.

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here.

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago.

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you.

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening.

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself.

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.”

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?”

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit.

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath.

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night.

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky.

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.”

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion.

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening.

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards.

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.”

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour.

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position.

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying.

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.”

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?”

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — —

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound.

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.”

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin.

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room.

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you.

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win.

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long —

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box.

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–”

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more.

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans.

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?”

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave.

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.”

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you.

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile.

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare.

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission.

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.”

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.”

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly.

Truth.

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?”

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands.

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–”

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly.

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try?

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.”

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity?

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly.

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.”

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?”

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer.

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked.

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.”

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before.

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline.

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point.

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.”

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him.

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards.

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison.

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans.

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line–

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings.

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing.

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.”

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it.

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants.

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles.

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest.

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–”

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center.

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit.

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed.

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center.

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax.

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris.

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth.

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him.

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices.

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter.

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck.

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue.

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants.

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.”

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest.

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked.

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them.

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts.

"You're goddamn stunning.”

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering.

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance.

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once.

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already.

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head.

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?”

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back.

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.”

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you.

With you still panting and limp beneath him, his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you.

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you.

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened.

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before.

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.”

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #pvris #oil & water #oil & water by pvris #song fic

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arafilez · 6 months ago

Text

੭୧ ⼂ PRINCESS ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ lmh x fem!reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤfluff 𓏧 being your enemy’s passenger princess is a dream that he likes it as much as you do ㅤ warnings drunk reader ﹢ 0.8k wc ㅤ𓏧ㅤ @sxmmerberries (beta)

“Why am I her emergency contact?” your friend’s boyfriend cowers under his pointed gaze and hastily explains how you did not have an emergency contact so he just dialled your most recent call. Halfway through that explanation your friend drunkenly starts kissing her boyfriend making that the cue for them to leave.

Minho looks at you, who has been suspiciously quiet the whole time before he sighs, accepting his fate and drags you to his car. His glares do nothing to soothe the ache in his heart as he softly places you down on the passenger seat and carefully tucks your legs in before attaching the seatbelt.

Closing the door, he moves to the other side, sets himself down on the driver’s seat and puts in your house location. As soon as he starts the car you mutter your first sentence for the night, “You really came.”

“Yes, you called me so,” he reasons, more to himself than with you, hating the pang in his heart formed at the thought of what if you had called someone else and not him. God, he would have hated it!

You giggle under the influence saying, “Do you know how many times I have dreamed of being your passenger princess?” His heart flutters at the sound of your light laugh filling the car making him bite back a smile as he asks, “Why?”

“Because you look hot driving,” your blatant voice makes him choke on air as he feels his face getting hotter at the compliment. Minho tries to focus on the road and less on his thumping heart as you continue blabbering, “I am so cliché, I like my enemy.” After a short breath you continue, “Will you tease me about this tomorrow? Well, that’s okay, I will just make myself believe.”

When you suddenly stop his eyes widen and he hastily asks before he can stop himself, “Believe what?”

“That you tease me because you like me, like those book-boys,” your eyes fix on his face and it takes him all his self-control to not look at you or he knows he will straight up crash.

“Passenger princess huh? You like being that?” he quickly changes the topic as the air around him gets hotter. He makes a mental note to get his car's air conditioner checked. Maybe it is malfunctioning.

You nod lightly, eyes hazily fixed on him, making him grip the steering wheel as if his life depended on it and say, “You always call me that to tease me, the joke’s on you, girls love being called a ‘princess’.”

“Do you now?” the teasing edge returns to his voice, his cocky demeanour coming back instantly. “Most do,” you say softly and add, “I would hate it so much if you called someone else that though.” Minho doesn’t know how he kept his sanity after that sentence leaves he knows but he somehow brings you to your apartment and stands in front of the door.

“Password,” he asks, making you giggle and flirtingly pointing at his chest, “To your heart?”

“To your home,” he deadpans but can’t help a lovesick smile take over his face as he watches you cutely stumble to put it in. The low light of the hallway accentuates your features and he finds himself blaming the high of the night for wanting to grab your face and kiss you right then and there.

When the door finally unlocks he carefully holds you and walks inside as he finds himself spilling, “You don’t need to worry about the heart you have already got that unlocked.”

“Have I?” your eyes widen in anticipation as you sling your arms around his neck looking up at him and Minho swears he never saw as many stars in the night sky as he did in your eyes that night.

“Yes, the day I realised you were borderline tolerable, I knew I was screwed,” he whispers back, eyes fleeting between your lips and your eyes before he sighs panting lightly. He somehow makes you drink a glass of water and you plop down on the bed, pulling you with him but he stays upright making you pout. Mustering all his self-control he goes to find a change of clothes in your closet.

He waits outside patiently and after what feels like almost twenty minutes he hears the door unlock as he enters, your hair is ruffled, and your face is puffy and warm from all the alcohol yet Minho finds himself fighting all his demons to not press his lips to yours.

When you finally plop down on the bed he pulls up the duvet to your chin and sighs saying, “I find drunk confessions awful, but I am here swooning over shit like this, so yes, I am stupidly in love with you, I guess.” Your eyes light up even in the haze of alcohol and sleep overtaking your features and he finds himself resisting to kiss you for the third time that night.

“Remember it till morning, for me,” he whispers to you lightly and prays silently that you will, before turning off the lights and saying one last sentence, “Sleep, my princess.”

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃ㅤ okay but to be minho's passenger princess asfsjsjejsl (divider my me) ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @gong-fourz @aaa-sia @yeosayang @weird-bookworm ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added

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bluejeanstrash · 9 months ago

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shower thoughts.

tags: pussy drunk! seungcheol x reader, established relationship, oral (f receiving), face sitting, pet names (baby, princess) | wc: 1.3k

it had started as a fleeting memory in the shower — memories of an afternoon where seungcheol had eaten you out over and over until you were all out of orgasms to give him. somehow, he could taste you on his tongue now, and if he shut his eyes, he could feel you quiver in his palms.

as he grabs the shampoo, massaging the fragrant liquid into his scalp, his mind wanders to the noises you’d made when you came, and how you gushed with sticky arousal all over his mouth. he feels his cock twitch for attention, looking down to see he’s fully erect. and by the time seungcheol’s grabbing his towel, he’s a man possessed. he steps out of the bathroom to see you right where he’d left you — sitting on the bed, a laptop warming your lap. in quick, hurried strokes, he dries his hair, tossing the towel aside before walking over.

‘hey’ he speaks softly, grazing your cheek with the back of his fingers.

‘hey’ you smile, pulling out an earphone ‘how was your shower?’

‘good. what are you doing?’

‘nothing, just watching something’ he takes a peek, his gaze falling on how your t-shirt (his t-shirt) is riding up to reveal a hint of your panties. it’s your comfy pair.

‘give me a kiss’ he bends to take one, and you know from the moment your lips meet that this isn’t a goodnight kiss. it’s deep, borderline desperate, and it makes you wonder what’s gotten into him.

seungcheol grabs your laptop, shutting it gently, and keeps it aside before getting on top. at no point does he break the kiss, instead sliding his tongue into your mouth to deepen it.

it’s your neck that he tastes next, his pillowy lips latching onto the skin to suck softly. the scent of his shampoo lingers in the air as he makes his way down — to your collarbone, to the curve of your breast, your firm nipples, but he just can’t concentrate.

seungcheol can smell your arousal now, so overwhelmed by it that he abandons his task halfway to make his way down, ripping off your panties and diving straight into your heat. before you even register what he’s doing, his tongue is already on you. his first lick is quick, rushed even, the second less so, his tongue flat and slowly sliding up your core, and on the third, he parts your protruding lips with the tip of his tongue, exploring inside you.

‘you. taste. so. fucking. good’ his voice is thick as he grabs your thighs, pushing them back and apart for better access. you watch as he licks his lips impatiently, snaking his long tongue out, and begins to run it up and down your folds, slurping up the juices that are starting to seep out of you.

he eats it like he’s starving. like it’s his last meal on earth. he’s made this joke before, once when you were discussing what your death row meal would be. it was just a joke then, but with how he’s devouring you now, it may as well have been the truth. he’s insatiable, disappearing between your legs for minutes at a time without so much as coming up for a breath of air. somewhere in the middle, he inserts a finger, his middle, into your hole, moving in and out of you in twisting motions.

‘oh my fucking god’ you gasp, gripping the sheets under you and pulling, the fabric bunching in tight creases ‘t-that feels amazing. fuck cheol, fuck’ seungcheol lives for your praises — the ones you put into words ‘you’re so good at eating pussy' 'your tongue feels incredible’ and the ones he sees in your body — your curling toes, arched back, those breathy pauses in your pretty little moans.

they only spur him on and he’s desperate to make you feel even better. so he takes two fingers, creating an inverted ‘v’ and places them on your pussy to spread your lips apart. ‘jesus’ he groans at the sight of your engorged clit — puffy and poking out from its hood. with a soft kiss, he cushions the nub in between his pillowy lips, and starts sucking. he pulls on it gently, like he’s sipping from a straw. seungcheol doesn’t want to overwhelm you with the sensation, he wants only pleasure for his princess. his pretty, pretty princess.

‘cheollie’ you whine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours ‘you feel so good on my clit’ he smiles, keeping his pace.

‘so so good’ you tangle your fingers in his damp hair, tugging sharply when he switches to feathery little flicks on your nub all of a sudden. ‘fu-hck’ your thighs clamp shut around his face, and without even realising it, you start rocking your hips up and down, grinding onto him. seungcheol groans in approval, letting you know that’s exactly what he wants from you. ‘that’s it, princess. use me to make yourself feel good’ he takes a precious breath to let you know.

so you use him, his tongue matching the fervour of your hips ‘don’t stop, please’ you beg, your moans rising and falling, and then, silence — the one that sets in when you’re almost at the edge. no, no, no. he doesn’t want it like this; he needs to be buried under you when you go over.

‘sit on my face’ he hurries to switch positions, laying down, and in his rush, the band of his underwear gets pulled to expose his cock. pink and swollen, it pokes out of his boxers, lying flat against his toned stomach. seungcheol props his head up on a pillow as you take your seat, holding onto the headboard to distribute your weight so as not to smother him with it.

‘no’ he locks his thick arms around your thighs, ‘sit on me. ride my face. suffocate me. do anything you want. i don’t care. just use me and please, please princess, cum on me’ and pushes you down on him.

is this euphoria? he wonders, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, coating his tongue with your taste. you slide across the ridges of his face — his sharp nose, pointed tongue, his jutting chin — each bringing its own kind of pleasure. he licks you next, dragging his tongue from your taint to your clit, before pushing the tip of his tongue inside your hole. ‘seungcheol, fuck. just keep doing that, don’t stop’ your grab onto his hair with the same intensity he grips the soft flesh of your tummy, squeezing, as you ride him.

‘i’m going to cum. fuck cheol, i’m going to cum all over your pretty face’ you whine as he slaps your ass, making you ride him even faster. he knows you’re there, right at the edge again, so he grabs your hips, steadying you in his strong arms. you clench and relax your cunt till the pressure reaches its crescendo and then, release.

release that shoots through you like bolts of electricity, lighting up every nerve in your brain and body as you spasm with pleasure. release that causes watery ejaculate to gush out of you, and onto seungcheol’s face which he laps up like it’s his reward. you hear him groan at your messy orgasm, and then suddenly, he feels something warm on his stomach. he realises that he’s cum, just a tiny bit, too, and he’s reminded once again of the effect you have on him.

you catch your breath, lifting yourself off him, but he pulls you right back down, not done with his licks until you stop quivering in his palms. finally, a minute later, you climb off, leaving seungcheol laying there with every inch of his face drenched in your fluids, and his stomach wet with his own. seungcheol breathes heavy, his chest heaving as he looks over at you. he licks his lips one last time and laughs ‘i think- think i might need another shower’ he sounds floaty, free, and fucking delighted — like a man finally satiated.

#scoups smut #seungcheol smut #scoups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups drabble #seungcheol drabble

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hannyoontify · 1 month ago

Text

seventeen '95 line as things that have made my heart flutter

warnings | none?

notes | source? erm possibly my own... experiences from the past..... ;;; i actually wanted to do all 13 before publishing but i js couldn't wait LMFAO i'm still writing the rest there's a good chance that i might upload all 4 lines in one day not proofread

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

seungcheol - calling you in the morning with his morning voice

you’re brushing your teeth, staring off into space and thinking that it’s too early for you to be awake when you hear your phone buzz on the marble counter. reaching over, you answer the call once you recognized the caller ID.

“hello?”

“g’morning…” the voice on the other end sends a shiver down your spine and kickstarts a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. “dreamt of you last night.”

the fluttering, overwhelming feeling migrates from your stomach to your chest. your brain goes static as you try and get over the initial shock of how deep and husky seungcheol’s voice currently was.

“i-it’s 7 in the morning, cheol. why are you calling me so early?”

you could almost hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. “i missed you.”

a rush of heat hits your face and you’re suddenly thankful that this was a voice call. “wh- whatever… you’re going to be seeing me in an hour anyway.”

seungcheol hums over the line. “mmm… i’m not sure if i can wait until then.”

“i’m hanging up!” you say hurriedly. you could physically no longer handle that man’s flirting and that damn low voice of his. you needed to give him a stern talking to when you got to school.

jeonghan - touching your ear whenever he’s bored

“hannie…”

“hm?”

“are my ears that soft?” you squirm in your spot at the tickling feeling on your spot the couch as jeonghan’s fingers absentmindedly gave your ear light touches and tugs. he looks up from his phone and sheepishly pulled his hand away.

“sorry, i didn’t realize” before he fully retracts his hand, his finger skims your cheek and gives it a slight pinch before place his hand in his hoodie pocket. you contemplatively lick your lips before opening your mouth to talk again.

“i... never said i didn’t like it…” your voice is so quiet jeonghan almost didn’t hear you. almost.

but jeonghan always hears you.

he gives you a sly grin before reaching out and giving your earlobe a gentle tug. “i didn’t realize i was doing it either. i know it started as a joke but… i think i made it a habit.”

jeonghan inches closer to you on the couch, his knee grazing yours. “you’re my little stress ball now.”

“are you stressed?” you furrow your brows in worry and jeonghan smiles.

“not when i’m with you.”

another gentle tug. except, this time, it's not on your ear.

spoiler alert: it's your heart.

joshua - humming and strumming the guitar in an empty room

the living room is bustling. you’re not sure what you were expecting when your friend seungkwan said he was having a small holiday get-together, but it definitely wasn’t this. you can’t even walk from the kitchen to the living room without stepping on someone’s foot, and you were pretty sure there was a DJ in the house somewhere.

desperate for a break from the crowd, you manage to squeeze through the countless bodies and go upstairs, where it’s virtually empty. the contrast between the loud and busy first floor and peaceful second floor felt borderline holy.

you’re wandering around the second floor, happy to escape the chaos of the first floor when you hear the quiet strum of a guitar reverberating through the hallways.

you halt and listen keenly as you try and locate where the sound was coming from. following the sweet melody of the guitar, you soon hear a voice accompanying the instrument. the door in front of you is cracked open and you peek inside, trying to identify who the talented musician was.

inside the room was joshua, an acoustic guitar propped on his knee as he strums the instrument, his fingers skillfully moving against the frets with gentle hums. his eyes are closed as he fully immerses in the music.

you stand by the doorway, arms crossed against your chest as you watch him. your lips are tugging into a small smile and you felt a gentle fluttering in your stomach. the final note hangs in the air and you hold your breath as you feel your heart rate beginning to speed up at the sight of joshua’s small smile.

his eyes slowly open and your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. joshua grins when he recognizes you.

“any song requests?”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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stilessflannel · 6 months ago

Note

can we have stiles giving us back shots🌚

we're not gonna talk about how long this took me to write

stiles stilinski had a lot of stressful things in his life. homework and deadlines of assessments, coach always on his heels about getting better at lacrosse, half the population of his town being involved with the supernatural - normal teenage things.

one of his favourite ways to take his exhausted mind that was normally doing a hundred miles an hour in five different directions off of things was to destroy you from behind.

face in a pillow to mute your screams from noah's sharp ears downstairs, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the sheets beneath you, and a thin layer of sweat that covered both you and stiles from the physical exertion, yet he showed no signs of stopping. seeing you in this state made something carnal in stiles want to ravish you over and over again.

the feel of his cock repeatedly ramming into your weeping cunt, his tip rubbing up against your cervix with every thrust had you seeing stars, making your back arch more if that was even possible.

'f..fuck angel, tryna kill me?' he joked, letting out breathy groans every time you squeezed around him, thrusting into you harder. the overstimulation of the past three orgasms he’d given you was starting to catch up to your weary body, but he wasn’t showing any signs of slowing.

somewhere between his hard thrusts that had your eyes rolling back and his borderline degradation did the mushroom head of his cock find the perfect spongy spot inside your cunt. something animalistic in his brain clicked and he started fucking you even harder, pupils dilating as he focused on finding that spot that drove him crazy again.

‘sti…stiles-’ you get cut off as he forces your head into the pillow, muffling your moans as he finds the perfect angle, rutting into you as hard as he can while you hurtle towards possibly the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had. stars flash behind your eyelids as your body slightly shakes, fingers gripping the sheets so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised to find holes again once you’re able to walk.

you whine as stiles pulls out of you, so overstimulated but still missing the feel of him inside you. as your arms gain strength again and you right yourself up, strong arms come from behind you and flip you over until you’re leaning up on your elbows, looking at him with half lidded eyes. stiles groans, getting himself to the edge with his fist. ‘open up, angel’

you give him a half smile and open your lips, and he shoots blanks into awaiting mouth, some splattering across your face and breasts. once he’s finished he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb, and gives you a signature grin as you suck the digit clean.

‘christ you’re perfect’

#this is actually so shit #i sincerely apologize #chiarawritesabout.stilesstilinski #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles

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jwnzlvr · 6 months ago

Text

you… want to try what?

pairing : bf!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

summary : toji wants to piss in you, you can’t say no to him. that’s it.

wc : 1k

warnings : SMUT (mdni), piss, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), PISSING INSIDE, degradation (use of bitch, slut, just treating reader as less), pussy slapping, not proofread

notes : where would you people be without me? JOKINGIM JOKING anyways for the toji piss kink enthusiasts… this one’s for u fam 🙏🏻 also this is messy i am aware. in tired. im running on like four cups of coffee, four hours of sleep and a blueberry muffin. please enjoy.

of all the things your boyfriend wanted to try out with you, this was one of the ones you didn’t expect he’d actually want. you both sat on your shared couch, your eyes wide with toji’s latest request.

“you… want to try what?” you spoke slowly as to understand toji. he only clicked his tongue at you and crossed his arms over his chest. “why do i have to repeat myself?” he groaned out before continuing.

“i wanna try pissin’ in you. like you know when i cum in you? that but with piss.” you couldn’t help the way your jaw slowly opened at how casual he sounded about this. yeah, he definitely didn’t sound like he’d just asked for something anyone else would consider very fucking filthy.

however, you weren’t anyone else. your interest peaked at his request. you were just as filthy as toji, you couldn’t even keep acting like you were shocked. “okay. when do you wanna try this?” you asked, dropping the whole shocked facade.

“right now.”

and that’s how you ended up on all fours, his cock pistoning in and out of you from behind. your hands gripped at the sheets while your moans were muffled by the pillows in your face.

toji had a satisfied smirk on his face as he saw how you fell apart for him. “what’s wrong, baby? this dick feel too good for you?” he’d almost snicker at you. you couldn’t even come up with a response for him. he was right, the dick did feel too good for you.

he gave a disapproving grunt at your lack of response. he moved one of his hand from your hips to your hair, tugging it to draw a small yelp out of you. “answer me, bitch. does this dick feel too good?” he borderline growled as his grip on your hair became tighter.

your head begins nodding against the pillows with loud moans interrupting your response. “yes! fuck- oh my god, toji!” his strong grip on your hair only made you more desperate for him. he gave a cocky grin at your answer. using his grip on your hair, he pulled you up to where your back was against his chest. his hips didn’t falter once during that movement.

“you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good. who owns you? who’s the only man who can fuck you this good? use that pretty little head to answer me.” his tone was derogatory. he spoke to you as if you were less than him. yet it turned you on even more.

you let out a loud whine before answering him. “you! ‘s you, toji… only you can fuck me this good.” you panted out, a moan being ripped from your throat. toji clicked his tongue approvingly. “that’s right, good girl. i knew you could answer me.”

the way he was degrading you then switching to praising you like it was nothing was giving you extreme whiplash. you felt your high approaching, squeezing around toji. toji knew when you were about to cum. out of nowhere, his arm wrapped around your neck. he’d trapped you in a headlock.

“you gonna cum? you little slut, go ahead and cream my cock. i know you want to.” he had a sickening grin on his face. you let out choked gasps as you came around him, your whines and whimpers being distorted by the force around your neck. he groaned out loud as he came too, painting your walls white. even after he came, toji didn’t stop his thrusts. he wanted to make sure you both were overstimulated for this next part.

when he heard your little choked begs for him to stop, that it was starting to hurt, he knew it was time. he looked at your face. you were already looking lightheaded and on the verge of passing out on him. he suddenly stopped his sloppy thrusts and buried himself deep inside of you.

your eyebrows furrowed in question as to why he stopped. at least, until you finally felt it. toji looked at you with a maniacal grin. he was pissing in you. his lock on your head started to loosen just a little bit with each passing moment that he pissed inside of you. he eventually let go of your neck to fully indulge in the sensation.

toji groaned in pleasure at the feeling of letting go in your pussy. “fuck, you’re so fucking soft and warm. just made to take me. my dick, my cum, my piss. your pussy fucking loves me, doesn’t she?” his stream of piss was strong, hitting against your womb. you couldn’t help clenching on his cock as you felt fuller and fuller.

he hissed at your grip on him, somehow pissing into you even harder. his piss began to dribble out of your hole and onto your sheets. you knew that’d be a pain in the ass to clean later that night. with each passing moment that toji pissed in you, you felt your high building up once again. you didn’t think him pissing in you would feel like heaven.

you crept your hand down to your clit and rubbed messy circles on it. you knew if you were fast enough that you’d cum just from him pissing inside of you. toji took notice of this and used one of his hands to take your hand away. his other hand came down to slap your pussy. you yelped and clenched on him, more piss flowing out of your full hole.

“did i tell you you could cum again? just finish takin’ my piss…” he’d groan out. by this point, his head was thrown back. everything just felt too good. his steady stream slowed into a dribble which ended in a few drops more. as soon as he was done, he pulled out of you. he watched in awe as his cum and piss gushed out of your clenching pussy only to drench your sheets.

he had a smirk on his face as he watched it all happen. he pressed a kiss against your neck. “thank you, baby… you did so fuckin’ good f’r me.” he praised you, his hands caressing your hips. you only turned and gave him a small glare.

“you’re cleaning all this shit up, do you understand?”

toji enthusiasts send asks or requests the brainrot is going crazy rn.

#toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw piss #i’m so tired #but i just HAD to.

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taegimood · 4 months ago

Note

Can we get sub!soobin getting jealous and possessive after you flirt with some guy in front of him

SQUEEEEE i was just telling berrie that i feel guilty for writing soobin too much but this one’s not my fault 🤓☝🏼 THE PEOPLE ASK AND I DELIVER 🗣️

edit: ……i got a little…..…. carried away 😶

ok soobin being such a little SLFNSKFJF he’s so pouty and defensive please

you would never intentionally hurt his feelings, but let’s say he’s been pushing it lately with the stubbornness. borderline brat behavior with how he talks back and whines over the littlest things, trying his luck with the pouty cold shoulder treatment that of course gets him nowhere (which then only makes him more of a baby about it).

at first, you can’t for the life of you understand what’s making him act this way lately; where did your sweet puppy-like soobin go ??? alexa play good boy gone bad

it’s not until he begrudgingly picks you up from work one day that you realize: oh…

he’s jealous.

you hadn’t thought anything of it when your new coworker joined your team a couple weeks ago, nor when he came face to face with your unsuspecting boyfriend who was picking you up from work that day.

sure, this new guy was very friendly, and eager to help where he could as you trained him for the new position, but you didn’t see it as anything more than that — while soobin, apparently, did.

you can see him now from across the room as everything clicks for you.

he’s sitting at the table by the entrance of your café, waiting as you take the last few minutes of your shift to go over a new latte recipe with said coworker, and you can tell from the furrow in his brows and how tightly his lips are pressed together that he is not happy with the current proximity between you and this other man.

like i said before.. you would never intentionally hurt soobin’s feelings. but when you laugh a little too hard at a joke your coworker just told and give his shoulder a light punch in response…

well, your introvert boyfriend is certainly not one for confrontation with a stranger, so needless to say you’re shocked as he immediately stands and stalks right up to the two of you with no hesitation.

“baby?-“

“don’t you think you’re a bit too close to her?”

you gape at him. he’s staring directly down at your coworker, who he towers over now that he’s right in front of him, and the other man’s eyes widen at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“u-uh, well-“

“your shift’s over, let’s go home.” soobin mutters to you then, not looking at either of you now as he takes you by the hand without another word and pulls you out the door of the café.

you’re scolding him in the car the whole drive home, telling him how he can’t just do things like that, how he can’t just start randomly being rude to people and that this is so unlike him, how he’s been acting out so badly lately and he seriously needs to put this attitude to rest —

but soobin is silent the entire time. looking straight ahead, jaw clenched, leg bouncing in his seat.

your eyes flit over to him in concern.

he’s still silent as you both get out of the car, as you go up the elevator to your apartment, as you finally enter the keycode and step inside — and that’s when it all comes out.

you gasp as you’re suddenly pressed to the wall, his lips urgently meeting yours and his hands gripping you as close as they possibly can; you’re so shocked at the sudden display of dominance that you don’t react at first, until he whimpers against your lips, a silent, desperate plea for you to return his fervor.

and so you do.

soobin has you thrown onto the mattress before you know it, clothes ripped off, his body pressed right up against yours, his lips and his tongue and his hands overwhelming you all at once.

“s-soobin-“

“you’re mine. you’re fucking mine.”

you gasp as he bites down on the part of your neck where he was just sucking marks into a moment ago; a dam seems to have broken as he starts babbling now, and finally you understand the reason behind all of his recent behavior.

“hate the way he looks at you… hate the way he follows you around like a lost fucking dog.”

you moan wantonly as his throbbing cock suddenly enters you in one thrust.

“no one else can make you feel as good as i can. no one else can be as good for you as me. you know that, right? right? f-fuck-“

you’re practically drooling as he fucks you hard, his quick, deep strokes overstimulating as his voice breaks and you can tell just how desperate he actually is for your reassurance right now.

“s-soobin- f-fuck, i can’t even think s-straight-“

“i’m your good boy, right?? n-no one else? i always make you feel good? p-please say it..”

his hips are stuttering as he loses his cool, barely able to maintain a steady rhythm as he buries himself over and over again in your dripping cunt, face pressed into the crook of your neck as he desperately tries to make you cum — whether for you or for himself, or both, you aren’t sure.

“b-baby- fuck, baby, of course you do- so fucking good for me, always so fucking good.. my good boy.. fuck, just like that, soobin-!”

you’re fighting to maintain the control of yourself that you know he needs you to have, but it’s so difficult as he pounds your pussy so good that you swear you’re seeing other galaxies.

your words have him whimpering, breaths coming out in short little moans as he clutches you impossibly tighter, begging to hear more —

you gasp at the sudden feeling of his hot cum shooting into you, and a broken cry escapes his lips, pleasure mixed with frustration as he doesn’t stop, his body trembling from sheer overstimulation as he chases down your orgasm.

“b-binnie-! binnie, slow d-“

“w-wanted you to c-cum first, m’sorry, m’sorry, fuck-!“

you feel as if the wind is knocked out of you before you even get the chance to respond, because suddenly his hot tongue is laving roughly over your nipples and his fingers have moved down to draw rapid circles around your clit;

his hips slam into yours, making filthy wet sounds as his cum gushes from your entrance, his teeth marking up your tits, his whines and moans pornographic as you cum hard around his aching cock and his own second load fills your pussy to the brim.

you have to lock your trembling legs tightly around his waist to get him to stop thrusting; you’re both breathing raggedly as his hips finally still and he goes slack on top of you.

he lets out an exhausted little whimper at the feeling of your still-twitching pussy. he doesn’t show any signs of pulling out, and you don’t even know if has the energy to do it himself;

“binnie,” you whisper, reaching up to card your fingers gently through his damp hair.

“mmh…”

“baby, look at me.”

slowly he lifts his head from its hiding place in the crook of your neck.

“you know… normally i’d punish the hell out of you for how bratty you’ve been… but i think i’ll let it slide just this once,” you joke softly.

his lips are already forming into a pout but you’re quick to add; “you don’t ever, ever have to feel threatened by anyone else. you’re absolutely perfect for me, bunny.”

poor sensitive soobin, bro… 🤧 he’s had such an overwhelming day of different emotions that he quickly tears up at your words, sniffling and mumbling explanations and apologies and so many i love you’s as you cuddle him to your chest, cooing over your sweet silly boy and making sure he knows that he’s the only one for you <333

he still gets grumpy when your coworker’s around — but that man will be staying far, far away now. (soobin’s stank face is sure to clear any place out for miles)

#ask mj ♡#mj’s hard thoughts #txt #txt x reader #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt thoughts #sub!txt #txt angst #soobin #soobin x reader #soobin hard thoughts #soobin smut #soobin thoughts #sub!soobin #soobin angst #taegimood #nonnie!

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seventhcallisto · 1 year ago

Text

Ateez 'n free use (+ somno)

Everything has been consentually talked about beforehand, in passing and seriously !! Mwuah. Lots of smut under the cut. barking. foaming at the mouth.

"Hi love bug 💗 I wanted your thoughts and opinions on ateez with somno / free use heheh" —ask @hhoneylix (my lovely pookie bear) 7.2K WC OF FILTH.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

In a free-use fantasy, partners can have sex with each other whenever they want, no holds barred. Somnophilia refers to the interest in having sex with a sleeping person.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Wooyoung. It doesn't take much convincing for him to agree, even the words would have him nodding eagerly. He doesn't even question the trust you two have cause you're both in sync like that, maybe he hands his heart out to you on a platter, despite his own head telling him he could end up with it broken (he doesn't care cause he knows he loves you to the moon and back). But if you are just as agreeing as him it'll have his heart soaring. He definitely uses you most days, happily too. He'll tease you; not letting you cum as he gets himself off. But it doesn't last for long when he's between your thighs a minute later. Over and over again and throughout the day. Teasing you so you'll find a reason to ruin him for the evening.

When you both first started, I can see his eyes flashing with everything he'll want to do or want you to do to him. When he realizes you're not saying it as a joke anymore (like you have done before), he completely folds, he's just a whole sub for the first day you guys try it out, whether a bratty one or a good one, he cries for it either way. He gets himself worked up the entire day because it caught him off guard, so whenever he thinks about anything you're doing, calling his name- specifically the nickname you use for him- god, he's throbbing. Telling him to pick up his mess that he left like some guy who can't clean up after himself with your mad tone that reminds him of how you fuck him up when he's being a brat. He'll most likely hide away during practice to try and jerk off (knowing him, he probably also sent you an audio message of it to see if you'll be the first to cave and just brutally use him) but it's just not working :( he gets so frustrated, on the edge of being mean because he's so horny. He snaps his tone, and his attitude sours into something whiny and needy.

He gets borderline bratty when he's so horny. So, at some point, when you're doing your skincare, he pushes at your lower back to bend you over the counter just the slightest, his hands sliding to your hips when he comes to grind his erection against you, a shuddered sigh falling from his lips. His head falls over your shoulder blade. "need this, please, 'm gonna make you feel good too, just want to be inside so bad" he'd mumble as he wiggled your pants down, giving you the opportunity to stop if you'd like. He wouldn't waste a second to jerk his dick out of his own pants and line up to your core. He notices you're also wet, so you've probably thought about this as much as he has all day. You truly don't know how much that drives him crazy. And knowing that you're always ready for him has him driving his cock all the way in you.

Only stilling for you to adjust to his stinging size. But he doesn't sit there for long because he's trembling with his hands placed on either side of you, his hips grinding your ass forward cause of his pelvis. It really doesn't take long for him to cum, especially if you're telling him how needy he is. How he can't even wait til you're done to fuck. "n-no, don't move, please- ill be quick- let me cum-" He whimpers and agrees with everything you say. "You're right- you're always right- fuck I'm addicted to you- I'm your whore- oh god-" lost in the way you feel around him as he drives his hips all the way to meet yours in sloppy liquidy slaps. His hands grip the counter around your stomach tightly, his fingers turning white from the grip, caging you against it. His eyes clenched close every so often, strangled gasps choked from his throat. He paints your walls with his cum, slumping over your back and shaking ever so lightly in the afterglow. You don't get to cum because he already did before you. He verbalized that when he tried to rub circles over your neglected nerve bundle. You swipe his hand away, going on to wash your own and continue your skincare, even with him still inside. He loudly whimpers, knowing he's in for a long night for every rule he's broken today. :((( he's sorry!(no he's not)

When you brutally and completely obliterate him later, tied to the bed and shaking after every edge or orgasm he has. You finish him with an unhealthy amount of kisses to his face and aftercare that has him cuddled up on your stomach, his face digging into your side. He falls asleep like that. It's really no for long when he wakes up, jolted from a pleasant and not very wholesome dream. Your hand is already stroking him over his shorts, cupping and pushing against his hard on that's imprinted and leaning against your hip from where he's halfway thrown over you. “Are you awake now? So needy woo, even when you're asleep, trying to hump me like a pillow” he whimpers when you laugh at him, pushing his thighs apart for more friction and shoving his face back into your chest. “Come on baby, you want to cum again? So early?” your hand stops for just a second, enough for his teary and tired eyes to blink up at you. Your hand slipping past his waistband and jerking his sticky tip. He's loud and definitely more affected like this. Choking on a sob when your nails scrape against his length and veins. He cums with a guttural choking gasp, jerking forward to stimulate himself the rest of the way with your palm. Staining his shorts with semen. He's definitely fucking you when he wakes up later. Even if you're still in deep sleep. Two can play that game.

Mingi. Oh. Oh! It takes a good hard minute for it to click. He loves it, though. Of course, he trusts you (a little too much), and he'll shyly ask if you trust him as much too (and you do!). It also doesn't take much convincing for him. He gets so turned on from the idea. Just imagining being able to get off whenever you're around. You might actually be fucking more often because of it. Like, every day. His libido is crazy. But what drives his will is the idea of being buried balls deep in you. And with somno??? Oh lord.

You're asleep when he comes home from practice, and he just really wanted you. Even when he tried to wake you up with a gentle pat to your shoulder, you don't even greet him. Turning over away from him. He knows you're not ignoring him on purpose, too tired to respond to the outside world in your head. He didn't think about using you in your sleep until he was choking on a cup of cold water. Remembering the conversation you had on the phone earlier. “Yknow mingi, if I'm ever asleep when you get home, I don't mind”.

He's slipping himself between your legs on the bed, carefully. Of course, he notices when the only thing you're wearing is his shirt and underwear. Watching you sleep on your stomach with a pillow propped under your chest comfortably and your arm shoved under the pillow where your head lays. Missing the way his body would be next to yours even in your unconscious state. He'd coo internally, pushing your thigh up so it's leaning up on the bed some more, your core and ass sticking out from the angle through the tight fabric of your underwear. He'd slip his fingers into you, pushing the thin fabric aside, working you open with quick and gentle scissoring motions. He'd praise you with his own tiny breaths when you clenched around the digits. Watching your face scrunch up from the feeling. Your head digging into the pillow some more and pushing back against his hand that's rubbing against your cunt. He knows your cue and clumsily pulls his fingers out before you can cum, whimpering in your sleep.

“Shh, im putting it in now princess, don't worry” he'd kiss your neck, leaning over you. Ready to please with something bigger and more fulfilling. His knees placed on eitherside of your hips just as he pulls his pants down. He lines his tip, holding your panties aside so he can slip in comfortably. It's so easy when you're relaxed. So pliable around his big cock when he sinks in, his hands gripping your lower hips. And holy fuck. Mingi is definitely doing this again. His eyes cloud as you swallow him in, every inch being lubed up easily. He sets a slow pace, pushing you further up the mattress with his bigger body that cages over your own soft and completely willful one. His hips rock forward, every so often to pull all the way back until his tip is around your ring and just slide in. He groans under his breath, quiet in the night. Your own sounds are whimpered and small due to the pillow in your face. Your face scrunches, and mingi feels you stirring, moving in your sleep as you begin to wake up. “Hey sleeping beauty” he shushes, leaning over you to prop his hands on either side of your head instead, making sure he doesn’t slip out. “‘m just using you like you told me to” he would sigh into his words, stuttering every so often when he bottoms out again and again, his hips dig and prod so good, burying to the hilt and pushing his tip into your cervix. “Perfect pussy, was made for me..” he groans, fingers digging hard into the sheets. “mingi..” You finally whisper, driving his heart rate higher, he hums to answer you, thrusting his hips down quicker.

Groaning at your walls fluttering. You're cumming with a shudder, pushing your ass back against his thrusts. “mingi-” you heave, shoving your face into the pillow. With a few extra sloppy thrusts, mingi stills with himself buried to the hilt inside you. It pools deep inside you, leaving you warm and sticky and oh so full. “Taking it soooo good, just like that..” he praises, soft breaths fanning against your face. He slips himself out to lay beside you, just to lay down for a bit. Your eye peaks open, meeting his sweaty face. “Hi, I missed you,” he chuckles.

San. He's so excited and so ready for it whenever, just nodding along and mutually agreeing on the topic. He'll want to know you're fully in it, even going out of his way for consent first at the start of the day. Like, always asking for consent even if you tell him to just use you already. Trust is easy when it's always consented beforehand. He loves you a lot, wouldn't even debate with you on the subject of who loves who more. And it isn't even a question when he trusts you blindly all the time.

He wants you to initiate that first time, so when you pull him out of the room as soon as he's off stage, he knows the way your feet stomp, n the way you grip his wrist in your hands. He bows his head at everyone who passes, all of them seemingly put off by your behavior. But it doesn't matter cause san is about to get high off of you. His face in shoved into your core the minute his knees hit the floor of the bathroom, his pants creasing, he's still sweaty from performing on stage, but who gives a fuck when your leg is thrown over his shoulder. Pussy drinker !!! He swallows so hard and his tongue licks everything up, throat vibrating when he moans over your clit. You're tugging his hair and his scalp burns in the best way. You cum shortly after, and he devours it all. Pushing him into leaning against the wall so you can slot to your own knees and drop his pants, his buckle cluttering against the floor. His head gets thrown against the wall when you take him in your mouth, he palms your head but doesn't dare to grip it. The pace you set on his cock is yours to control and yours alone. He moans airily, thrusting his cock down your throat, I can see san preferring head to be messy, especially when you go down on him. So make those nasty gargling sounds and slurp him like you're thirsty. “Y-ah- you couldn't wait?” He asks through a moan, hands wrapping around to pull your hair out of your face. Ever the gentleman as he plunges his pulsing tip down your sloppy mouth. You hum around him, as if that's an answer. He cries, “oh- just like that- ugh” you hum again, he thrusts hard, cumming just as harshly. You swallow everything and more, overstimulating him when your cheeks hollow as you pull off him with a pop. He's pulling you up to sloppily make out. You stop him, finger over his lips when he chases you. “We have to get back baby, I can't be late.”

n somno? He's the one to initiate it. He's coming back to your shared hotel room after doing a live. Exhausted and just wanting to cuddle. The first thing he hears when he moves into the bed next to you is you calling his name, hand reaching around for him. “San?” You whisper. He heeds your call with a kiss on your cheek. Intertwining your wandering hand with his. “I'm here baby” You turn over your side, humming with content when you fall back to dreamland. Something about you calling him, just needing to feel his hand over you, god, it's ridiculous, but he's hard. He tries to breathe, to ward the boner away. But you look so pretty in those shorts, and your top is so silky falling off your shoulder like that.

And soon enough he's giving into his desires and working his cock with his hand that isn't in yours. Tugging himself off and hiding his noises, it's not enough, of course not, cause it's not your pussy, he's just not in it, even when he spits in his hand and uses his precum. He can't even focus, turning you over to lay flat on your back, his hand slipping from yours. You stir, just slightly, eye peaking open to look down at him over your waist, he holds himself just above you, pecking the skin where the shirt rid up on your tummy. He kisses your hip that's free of the cloth on it, trailing kisses everywhere. “Can I pretty? Can I please have you right now?” he whispers so sweetly. You nod, despite still being groggy. “let me sleep still okay?”. You don't have to tell him twice, he kisses just under the swell of your stomach, appreciatively, dipping his hands into your shorts and undies to pull them off in one go. “Just let me do it all, don't worry your pretty head about anything” Pussy drinker !!!! His face is buried inside you, grinding his cock against the white sheets, you hum and moan quietly, urging him on.

He brushes his nose against your clit and indulges himself on working you with his tongue and his fingers, praising you through breaths when you come to the edge, he lets you cum with a gaspy call of his name, encouraging your thighs to almost suffocate him when he laps up your juices. He crawls up to you with one more appreciative kiss against your clit, pushing his cock in with ease, neglected and so red :( he practically falls apart above you. Snapping his hips a couple of times to be as close to you, pushing himself to cum from all the strain he's been putting his poor cock through. He pants when he cums, your name falling off his tongue like a sinatry, all the while you hardly stir, eyebrows scrunching at the warmth of his load gathering in your cunt. You're so warm, he falls atop you with a sigh, stilling inside. You're both definitely going for a second round, cause he woke you up and now he's the sleepy one.

Seonghwa. Oh! Okay! Oh god. He loves the idea, although a little nervous at first, all mutual agreements might end up with you both already going through a list of things that is completely fine. Would want to know everything you don't like and do like beforehand. He's so happy to know you trust him, although it took a hard time for him to open up to you, he's completely and wholeheartedly in it as soon as he knows, communication is the first thing with him and then trust. It's very sweet for a while until you guys actually get to doing it.

Uhm, I also see him as a pussy drinker, sorry not sorry. He wants to be buried in you all the time. But it isn't until you're propped up on the couch, the tv playing in the distance, he's been needy for affection lately and maybe you haven't noticed it as much, he shifts against your hip, head leaning over your shoulder, watching your eyes slump close and flutter from his breath on your cheek. For a second you think he's getting up when he slips down the couch, but the next he's throwing your legs over his shoulder and tossing your pants. When did that happen? “Go on love, keep sleeping, don't mind me” you do mind. A lot. He kisses your inner thigh. Even as he pushes his hair behind his ears softly and sticks his tongue out to lick along your entirety. You buck as he swirls your little bud, sucking on it. His eyes are closed in bliss, hands gripping your thighs so tightly.

He eats you out like a man enjoying a five course meal, knowing every sweet spot that has you seeing stars, even without his fingers you cum with his name on your lips, but he keeps going, nosing your thigh before he's diving back in. He has you there in mere minutes again, you can't even focus on the dream you were just in. I can see seonghwa with his head buried in your thighs for hours with a few breaks in between that has you thinking he's done(he is not) trying out every little thing he thinks of, how quickly he can get you there and how easily you come undone if he just puts even his fingertips in. He teases you with his words and edges you on. Every so often if you're just doing something casual, he'll stick his hands down your pants and make you cum on his fingers. “That was a good one love, you sounded so pretty” you hate him. But it's no different when you straddle his waist when he's laying on the bed, his own phone in his hands.

He greets you gently, it's really innocent at first cause you're touchy and seonghwa loves it when you're touchy. When he notices your hips are wiggling back and forth over his lap, he places his phone to the side to watch you, you're just,,, just there. Hovering above him, he can feel the heat of your body over his own, your head on his chest as you pretend to relax with him. He knows what you're doing, and he lets you, his cock stirring in his silky pants at the thought of being inside you. Your finger scraps against the hem of his pants, he moans quietly. You pull him out of his slacks and pump him the rest of the way to make him fully erect, his hand lulled to the side as his phone continues to play the video he was once watching. You pump him slowly, watching his tip pebble with sticky white drops. He watches you come up to hover your hips above him, lifting your oversized shirt to the side. It's then he realizes you're not in anything other than the shirt. His lip perked up into a smirk, it's quickly wiped away when you sink down on him. His mouth falling agape. Screw his phone, it's already gone, across the bed. His hands guide your hips in lazy swirls, pretty moans falling from his mouth. His eyebrows furrow and he's just so pretty as you lifts your hips and drill them down on him, cutting off his moans every time you do so. His fingertips dig into your waist, pleading for you to keep going and helping you out when you slow down. Taking it at your own pace until he swings you forward and thrusts up into you.

It's you using him, but he needs to be buried to the hilt the entire time. “Keep going- mm” His cock throbbing against your insides and hitting so deep cause he's so long. He can get loud but it's mostly breathy moans. When he cums- and it's inevitable- he's crying from the overstimulation of you continuing to hug his cock in your cunt. He watches you swirl your hips forward to chase your own orgasm, pleading for you. “S’too much please please- cum on my cock- need it so bad” Not to stop, but to get there with him as he sputters with tears down his cheeks from how good he feels. You cum quietly, falling over his chest and leaving yourself buried in his neck, he whimpers. Your hips continuing to swirl. He grips them, stopping them so he can get some relief. When he's softening inside you, he kisses your head gently. Picking up his phone to continue scrolling.

Hongjoong. Again! He loves the idea. It doesn't take any convincing. He might be the one to bring it up first. It'll start off with free use and gradually get to talking about the somno part. He'll tell you he wants to know your thoughts before he voices his own, just so he isn't pressuring you into it. He buzzes with excitement and also just so much love. He's always wanted you both to feel comfortable enough to get to this part of your relationship. And when it finally comes up, he just uses and abuses it after the initial agreement. God. He loves knowing you trust him to do it to you whenever, and he vocally tells you he loves the idea of you using him when you feel like it. Despite being shy with how he says it. It doesn't take much time for him to fall completely for you and trust you with his entire being.

I see him using you all the time. Whenever he can get his sneaky fingers around your hips and dig his boner into you. Casually talking about his day when you're standing at the kitchen counter, well- he's already pulling your dress up and slotting your underwear down in a swoop. His nimble fingers slotting into you quickly. “What was that? Go on angel” he'll want you to talk through it, telling him about your day through whimpers and stuttering. “n then she- oh god joong just like that-” you’d end up a mess, and he hums, encouraging your words. Pulls out just as you're about to cum. And then he kisses your cheek and pulls your underwear back up. he's the worse. Ugh. You'll have to be the first to fuck him up. He's talking as he drives, a quiet tone to his voice in the peace and quiet, completely oblivious to the heat in your eyes. He stares at the road and practically jumps when you lean over into his lap, his hand goes to hold your head, on instinct.

“Bab-” you're pulling his zipper down. oh! Oh!!! OHOHO. He quirks in your grasp, cock springing to life the quicker you jerk him off. When you spit on his length that's when he moans lowly, you slap his thigh. And he jolts. “Pay attention to the road.” Fuck him up!!! Despite reaching that edge with only a few short tugs and your painted lips swirling over his tip lightly, he doesn't cum at all cause you're already at the destined location. He hates it, he drove as slow as he could and yet he still didn't cum in your pretty mouth :( Grumbled whines under his breath as he shoves himself back into his jeans. The fabric hurts. And you're smirking at him like the devil. You're playing a dangerous game. And when he gets you alone in a house full of people you know, he's got you crying, pretty mascara running down your face and throating his length until your nose brushes against him.

“hngh- You did this to yourself angel” He clicks his tongue, head thrown back against the door. It's lewd and it's definitely free use for him when he uses your head to jerk himself off on your tongue. He takes a good solid time getting there, shoving his load down your throat and pulling out enough to watch the rest spurt over your lips. Swipes it off with his thumb and puts it back in your mouth. “suck,” if by chance he's sleeping or resting, which is rare. You won't be the one to do it to him often, on the other hand he'll want you to. But he definitely won't make you. So one day when you've had it rough, just tug his sweats down with his back resting against the bed, a soft edge to his face when he sleeps. pillow slotted under his grasp and head thrown to the side. Oops, he's already hard. Morning wood. Or was he just having a nice dream? You're already on him in seconds, bottoming him inside til your pelvis meets his. His eyebrows furrow and his breathing picks up. Gasps falling out of his parted mouth, his hands twitch every so often when you call his name quietly. As if he can hear you in his dreams. Your name is the only thing he says every so often, jumbled and under his breath when he moans prettily.

Whenever he twitches too much inside you, and his face scrunches you stop so he can't cum just yet. He'll whimper and whine, throwing his head back and around. His hand comes to rub his face and then fall back to his side, right next to your knees. You swirl your hips against and practically write your name on his dick. He'll stir the second time you edge him, waking him up to one of the best sights. “Ah. m- fuck- cumming” he whimpers, pistoning his hips up to meet yours, he continues to do so even when he cums, load splattering against the sheets when it pools out of you, he tells you to keep going, encourages it too. Sloppy the whole time, overstimulating himself so he's hard again, throbbing and moaning loudly, his cheat shuddering with every breath he takes. When you cum he's pulling you down to shove his tongue down your throat, catching every sound and vocal cue with his fingers rubbing against your clit. He overstimulates you in the process too.

Yunho. Might genuinely take a couple of times to talk about it more than once. He just wants to know you're the one completely fine with it. (cause he is!) He'll work his way up to it, sleepy sex and telling you he'll handle it the whole time. And when he feels the need to be buried in you, he'll always ask beforehand, tell him he doesn't even need to ask, cause he always will. He trusts you with his heart, so of course, he trusts you completely when it comes to sex. You both are completely in tune.

It's mostly casual when it happens. It usually starts because you're in a position he likes, letting his imagination go on for a bit, you're on your tummy on the couch, feet kicking behind you and typing away at your phone. He could feel like a perv for the way he's looking at you, oblivious to his growing hard-on. But he can't help it when he crawls over you to lay on your back, his dick pressing into you through his sweats. You go to question him. He smiles shyly. “Nothing baby, just want to be close to you” yeah uh huh sure bud. It's fine for a couple of seconds until his hips move, and he's sighing in your ear. You just let him get himself off, typing away. Ignorant to the way it's just not working for him, he slips your shorts down, and you only slightly help with lifting your hips. He'll immediately go at it, kissing your shoulder and neck, appreciation on his tongue when he tells you he'll be quick. He slips himself out and bottoms inside with ease. The stretch is perfect.

Yunho has a big cock but you take it like a champ, he always has you prepped for him too. It's just so easy to slip into you. His hand snakes under your waist to pinch your clit, you jolt away from the sensation, dropping your phone. It slides too far from your reach. It's not long of yunho's soft pace before you moan at him to go faster. Through a gaspy groan he laughs, his large palm holding him up on the arm of the couch and the other spreading your thigh farther open for him to watch you suck him inside. His pace quickens, it's enough for you to feel satisfied, throwing your hips back to meet him. The slapping noises are lewd, consuming the entire living room with just you two. Yunho is just big in general, so the tiny couch(that needs to be replaced) hardly holds his size. He's using his foot to push himself harder into you, his knee bending the couch harshly. Soft grunts and heavy pants coming from his chest, it reverbs off your back, although he's leaning over you he's still close.

His other hand circling your clit and swirling the bundle. You cum with a guttural whimper, his name quiet on your tongue. “gonna fill you up real good baby,” he smirks through his words. “You're gonna keep it in, yeah?” You nod your head, whining from the sensitivity. Yunho cums with your name chanting off his lips, hips stuttering above you. If you do use him while he's sleeping he's more likely to move with you, meeting your hips as he ruts in his sleep. Eyebrows pulled taunt and mouth agape. He lets out the prettiest groans. He cums with one final loud moan, fisting the sheets, and completely and wholeheartedly falls back into sleep. It's like he didn't wake up at all, and he didn't! Make sure you clean him up tho. Carefully. I see him using you more than you using him, only on occasion though. When he's sleepy and just wants to feel you around his cock. So hard he can't take the strain anymore, he throws your thighs over his lap, already pantsless both of you. Your sleepy body leaning into his warmth.

He kisses your calve, propping both of your legs over his shoulder before he's sliding in. He's already prepped you with his fingers. He's a bit more quiet then, focus on just having his way with you(because you let him) but also to see you unravel with him with no filter or anything blocking you from letting it all show on your face? He really likes it, like. Really. Likes it. His sloppy hips are more likely to make you wake up, or the stretch in your legs as you're bent over him, sandwiched between him and the bed, his thumb drawing figure eights on your clit to reach you there faster. Your whine is scratchy, signaling you're close. He'll coax you with words even if you can't hear him “go on baby, cream around me” He groans right in your ear when you tip, hands reaching out to hold him close because you've suddenly woken up to your legs shaking and an orgasm wracking your body. Yunho often cums with you and this time is no different, he's stilling with his chest shaking from his breathing. Curling his hips forward so he's all the way in. Keeping you full with his essence.

Yeosang. It takes sooo many words of affirmation for him to even think about it. He's just a bit too scared of the idea of you not being in the mood or enjoying it. He puts your pleasure before his all the time and when you tell him to just use you to his heart's content he just really can't :((( baby just wants you to be in it as much as he is. He wants to know his pretty baby is feeling as good as he is, and eventually, he'll tell you that himself when you bring it up again. You're free to use him whenever !!! He'll always be prepared and ready for you. He gets turned on by you, even mentioning you want him in that way. (He loves being the one you want even if the situation isn't sexual), so when you tell him to imagine, you're always wanting him (and you do). His thoughts on it will shift.

Once again, he doesn't act it out much when it comes to free use. On the other hand, I could see him turning over in his sleep, waking up from a sweaty dream. He can't get the thoughts of dream-you out of his head, so he does what you've recommended you both do before, kissing your shoulder to see if you'll wake. You don't, and so he goes on, trailing them down your collar before he's at the hem of your shirt. He's slipping himself under it. Sucks on your boobs while he jerks himself off :( I don't really see yeosang using your cunt as you sleep; he prefers to see his pretty baby up close to see your eyes flutter. But maybe on a special occasion if he really really REALLY wants you, he'll push you to your side so your back is pressed against his chest, pulling your shorts and undies down enough to push his cockhead in. He sighs so prettily and makes sure you don't show any discomfort from the stretch, his pace is slow and sleepy, just trying to get there from a few thrusts in your warm and wet hole.

He'll use his fingers to rub soothing circles around your clit. Paying special attention to the way your body reacts cause you can't really use your words. When it comes to sex like this he's quiet. Not very vocal cause he's so focused on driving his hips in and out of you. His length soothing in its pace against your cervix. Your eyes flutter when you feel the heat of needing to cum, waking up in the movement of yeosangs thighs against your ass. “Yeo-” you cry quietly, cumming tightly, the fluttering around his length has him airily groaning, your hand reaching to hold his that's kept on your waist to hold you close. He hums, broken and short and breathy. Before he's speeding up his messy pace and cumming inside. He stills and doesn't bother moving for a good minute, even as you turn your head to pepper kisses on his temple, his face shoved into your neck. Genuinely could see him almost falling asleep like that, buried inside you and completely comfortable. But as soon as he feels you wiggling he'll get to cleaning up. Also the type to just let you use him whenever you want too, he'll gladly just sit back and let you.

He'll be on the couch with his phone in hand, probably in one of the many dressing rooms waiting for the rest of the guys to get back. You drop to your knees in front of him and he immediately fumbles, eyes dashing to the door. “I locked it, don't worry” you pull the zipper of his brand new pants down, the leather straining against his thighs. His cock throbbing in your tight grasp, pumping him to stand full. He'll throw his head back against the couch and bite his lip to hold his moans when your mouth wraps around him. Getting him there quicker than he can proudly say, he'll whimper and hold his own hips down. Noticing every sound and how loud it seems to him. He'll hold your head, gently, following you with it against the back of it. Your pace is rough and brutal, getting him off with sticky noises and humming against his tip. He might actually start whimpering through his bruised lips.

“Sl-slow down-nng” oh my god he feels a bit bad when his hips thrust up against your throat. Eyes scrunching with pleasure, his hips don't know whether or not to pull away or to keep drilling up into you. So he's squirming on the couch, little sounds escaping here and there when you swallow around him. He warns you when he's about to cum, his hips driving away from you and digging into the couch. His hand fisting against the back of your neck shakily. Your name is the last thing he says before he's seeing stars and shooting his load on your tongue, if you swallow it up greedily he will definitely start shaking from the stimulus. “Jagi- ah.” His hand curls, your lips popping off him. He completely deflates on the couch. You'll have to do the cleaning up, be gentle though he gets really sensitive.

Jongho. It really is about trust with him. It will take a lot and so long before you guys even get to that part. Trusting you completely will be the most fragile part of it, jongho doesn't necessarily wear his heart on his sleeve so when he gets into it with you, he really has to think about it on his own for a good couple of days. So when he comes around and brings it up again, you tell him he doesn't have to agree for your sake. But he genuinely is agreeing because he loves you, and he's beginning to love the idea of being used by you when you need him. He just always wants to provide in every way possible. He'll only want to use you on the most stressful of days, though.

His cock is there for you to use and abuse to your content. He won't verbally say it (ever) but you know he finds a certain love for you using him so much. He'll be resting with his head on the couch and his body completely relaxed, drifting away in his own head. He'll immediately wake up to you leaning on his lap. He's no fun for somno, he wakes too easily especially if he feels you on his lap or anywhere near his dick. He'll paw at your hips and sigh knowingly. Eyes still closed and just the hint of a grin on his lips. “Right now?” He'll tease, his sleepy voice just ugh, and the little chuckle he does. Slide down his shorts and help him shuffle them down a bit, he'll help with pumping himself a bit so you can shuffle your own clothing off. Just slow strokes to his growing cock, he shudders when you line him up and use his tip to drag through your folds. Might even get impatient with the way his hips buck. But when you sink down his eyes are slowly opening to watch your joint area. Swirling your waist back and forth on his lap.

He's not very helpful this way; you're the one who woke him from his nap and now you should be the one to get you both off. You're cumming before he is, hips stilling and falling on his chest. He clicks his tongue, a short amount of teasing coming from his chest. His hips stutter, pushing you back down with his strength. He cums shortly after. Just buzzing with domesticity, he'll just be happy to stay like that for a while, but the liquids dripping along his body just won't do for him. You're the one cleaning up cause you initiated it ! Sorry not sorry. If it's a long day and jongho is just coming home, his body is heavy and his head pulsing with a growing headache from the amount of things memorized. You'll be the first thing on his mind, being close to you always blows off steam but he will debate on whether or not he'll want to wake you up or just go on ahead.

So he takes the easier option. Cooing at you gently when you sigh softly, he's positioned right by your butt as you're turned on your side. You’ve definitely fallen asleep from waiting on him. You'll call his name softly, propping your head up to look at him. “Shh, just relax and let me do all of it for you, turn your pretty head off for me” he kisses your lips so sweetly, just a short peck and you're already turning your head back into the pillow he brought from the bedroom, body sighing and falling back. Preps you with his hands and fingers, gently swirling them inside you and working you open for him. Encourages your orgasm when he knows you like a certain thing he does, shushing your soft moans. He always preps you to take him. He likes it better that way. So he's already strained and hard to the touch in his palm when he slips himself out of his jeans. Hissing from the harsh fabric under his breath. He'll make sure to lube himself up with his own spit beforehand so you're not lubing his length up completely by yourself.

Works the head in and gently leans over you, breathing softly above you. He'll swirl his hips to get himself all the way in, stopping to pull out and ease more of his length inside. Eyeing your comfortable state the entire time. His pace will be erratic and slow, just finding what works best for the angle and what makes you squirm around him. Once he finally finds it, he'll encourage it on, pouding into your gummy spot until you're whimpering. Hips stuttering occasionally from the way you clench around him “There you go, sweet girl, just like that” he coos, watching your body shake from the orgams ripping out of you You sigh so prettily when he drills his cock back in, holding your thigh to keep you close even as you pull from the overstimulation. His breath stuttering our of his lungs when he paints your insides. Falling the rest of the way over you. He sighs heavily. Brain shortwiring. He'll definitely be doing that again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

UHM UHM, I... I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

Thank you to my pookie for being so patient with me ;( ily bb, here's that request you've been waiting for. And my cutie patootie @uhhheather for helping me out w jongho n yeosang. U played an important role so thank uuuuu

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