#Really stressed out in crowded spaces | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lowkeeho · 3 days ago

Text

the first

pairing: Jake (ehna) x shy!virgin fem!reader

genre: first time, emotional intimacy, virgin!reader, college AU, flufffffffff/smut

cw: nsfw, mdni, virgin!reader, first time, oral (f!rec), fingering, face-sitting, missionary, praise kink, breast play, creampie, emotional vulnerability, slight overstimulation, crying during sex (emotional), soft dom!Jake

wc: 4.8k

a/n: not proofread (sorry😭), it’s been in my drafts collecting dust lol hope yall enjoyyy <3

You weren’t exactly friends at first. More like mutual nods across lecture halls, shared glances during group discussions, the occasional smile exchanged when your hands brushed reaching for the same classroom door. He was the kind of guy who filled a room—Jake, with his loose-limbed confidence and that lazy grin that seemed like it belonged to someone in a movie.

You didn’t expect him to remember your name, let alone sit beside you two weeks in a row in Psych 204. But he did. And when you murmured something under your breath about the professor’s weird obsession with Freud, he laughed—a real, full-bodied sound—and said, “You’re funny. I like that.”

That was the beginning.

From there, it was small things. Shared notes. Walks to the coffee shop on the corner after class. Texts that started as study reminders and turned into late-night questions about dreams, fears, music you loved but never told anyone about. He asked things no one asked. And he listened like your answers meant something.

Jake didn’t make you nervous in the way most people did. He didn’t crowd your space. He watched you, sure—but gently. Like he was trying to learn you. And somehow, he made you want to be seen.

You weren’t blind to the way people looked at him—the flirting, the smiles, the way others leaned into his orbit. But he always seemed to lean back toward you. Quietly. Like you were the one pulling him in without realizing it.

The first time he touched you was barely anything. His fingers brushed the back of your hand as you reached for your cup. But it sent a current up your spine, sharp and unexpected. He noticed—of course he did—and didn’t pull away. Just let his fingers stay there, resting against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You always flinch when someone touches you,” he said softly that day, eyes holding yours. “But you didn’t this time.”

You looked away, heartbeat skittering. “I didn’t want to.”

His smile then wasn’t cocky or smug. It was soft. Something more reverent.

And now, everything is shifting. You can feel it. In the way he lingers a little longer when you hug goodbye. In how he brushes your hair back behind your ear, like he can’t help but touch you. In the silence that falls sometimes—not awkward, but thick with things unsaid. Things you’re afraid to say.

Because you’ve never done anything. Not really. Not with anyone. And that part of you—your want, your hunger, your inexperience—you keep locked up behind polite smiles and tightly folded arms.

But Jake looks at you like he already knows.

And for the first time in your life, you’re starting to think… maybe that’s okay.

Jake’s room is quiet, save for the hum of his desk fan and the low music playing from his phone. You’re curled up on his bed, your laptop balanced on a pillow in your lap, legs folded beneath you. He’s sprawled next to you, lying on his stomach with his cheek resting on his arm, eyes flicking between his notes and your screen.

You’ve done this before—studied like this, side by side, close but not too close. But tonight feels different.

He’s closer than usual. His knee brushes yours every time he shifts. His voice is lower, slower, like he’s not in any rush to move on from this moment. When you lean forward to scroll, his hand gently tugs your hoodie back into place, fingertips brushing your spine.

You don’t even pretend it doesn’t affect you.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmurs without looking up. “That test stressing you out?”

You shake your head slowly. “Not really. Just… tired, I guess.”

Jake hums like he doesn’t believe you. His fingers tap thoughtfully against his textbook before he closes it and turns toward you fully. The bed dips with the movement, and now he’s right beside you—close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath when he speaks again.

“You always get like this when something’s on your mind.”

His voice is gentle, but it cuts straight through you. Jake doesn’t poke or pry. He waits. Gives you room to choose him, or not.

And tonight… maybe you want to be chosen too.

You stare at the screen a second longer before closing the laptop and setting it aside. “Can I ask you something?”

Jake nods instantly, like there’s no version of the world where you could say something he wouldn’t want to hear. “Of course.”

You hesitate, playing with the hem of your sleeve. It’s stupid. Or it feels stupid. But the weight of his gaze grounds you.

“I’ve never…” You trail off, pulse thumping in your throat. “I’ve never really done anything. Like—physically. With anyone.”

There. It’s out. Suspended between you and the walls of this room that suddenly feels too small.

Jake blinks. He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t smirk or make a joke. Instead, he sits up a little straighter, head tilting like he wants to read your thoughts.

“Okay,” he says carefully. “You mean… like nothing at all?”

You shake your head once, the heat rising to your cheeks. “I’ve kissed people. A couple times. But nothing else. It’s not like I was waiting for anything specific, it just… never felt right. I didn’t want to force it.”

Jake’s expression softens, all traces of curiosity replaced by something warmer. Protective. “That makes sense. You should never force it.”

You nod, biting your lip. “I just—I feel like everyone around me has already done everything, and I’m still in this… bubble. Like I’m behind or something.”

Jake’s hand reaches for yours, his fingers slipping gently between yours like it’s second nature. “You’re not behind. You’re just… you. And I really like who that is.”

Your heart stutters.

He holds your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing slowly over your knuckles. “For what it’s worth,” he adds, voice lower now, “I think it’s kind of beautiful. That you’ve waited. That you’re careful with yourself.”

You glance up at him, surprised. “Beautiful?”

Jake smiles—not cocky, not teasing. Soft. Real. “Yeah. Makes me want to be careful with you too.”

The tension between you tightens. His hand stays in yours. His eyes flick to your mouth, but he doesn’t move, not until you do.

And when you lean in—barely, uncertain—he meets you halfway.

His kiss is gentle. Thoughtful. A question, not a demand. His lips are soft and warm, his hand slipping to your cheek like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he’s too rough. It isn’t deep. It’s barely anything. But it steals the air from your lungs.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and you don’t know what he’s thanking you for—trust, maybe—but it makes your eyes sting.

“I just… I don’t know how to do any of this,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

Jake smiles. “That’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to. We go slow. We go at your pace.”

And for the first time, your inexperience doesn’t feel like a flaw. It feels like something sacred.

Jake’s still close. His forehead is against yours, and your hands are still clasped. Your lips are tingling, still warm from that kiss—not just the contact but the meaning behind it. You didn’t expect him to be so patient. So still. Like he’s waiting for your heart to steady before he asks for more.

But he doesn’t have to ask. You tilt your head, let your lips brush his again, softer this time but with more weight. Like you mean it.

He responds immediately, like he was just waiting for you to want him back.

The kiss deepens slowly—there’s no rush in him, no pressure. Just a careful pull of your bottom lip, a low hum from his chest when your fingers curl in the front of his shirt. His other hand settles at your waist, grounding you. You think you might fall if he didn’t hold you there, gently anchoring you to him, to this moment.

You feel the smile tug at his lips before he pulls back just enough to whisper, “See? You’re already so good at this.”

You blush, and Jake leans in to kiss your cheek, then your jaw. Then—lower. His lips press beneath your ear, warm and slow, and your breath catches when he moves down to your neck.

The first kiss there makes you shiver. He notices.

“Oh,” he says softly, a quiet chuckle in his throat, “you’re sensitive here?”

You nod without meaning to, and he follows your pulse with his mouth—open-mouthed kisses, the faint scrape of his teeth, a low groan when you gasp and squeeze his arm.

You don’t realize when he moves, but suddenly you’re on your back, your legs still bent up on the bed and Jake hovering above you, elbow braced beside your head. He kisses you again, this time slower, longer, like he wants to feel every part of you at once. One of his hands slides up under your hoodie, fingertips brushing your skin just above the waistband of your shorts.

His touch is cautious, but it sets something off inside you. You arch up instinctively, heart hammering, and Jake pulls back only to study your face.

“You okay?” he asks, voice like velvet.

You nod quickly, already breathless. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

He grins—genuine, a little cocky, but still sweet. “Good nervous or bad?”

“Good,” you breathe. “Really good.”

He kisses your nose. “Then can I keep touching you?”

The heat spreads down your body in a rush. You whisper, “Yes,” and Jake hums like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night.

His hand slips higher, palm smoothing over your stomach, your ribs—everywhere but where you suddenly ache for it. He’s patient. Exploring. He pushes your hoodie up a little more and presses soft kisses to your exposed skin, warm and slow and reverent.

You swear your heart might explode when he mouths at the underside of your breast through your bra, teeth just barely grazing you. You gasp, arch again, and Jake groans into you.

“Shit,” he mutters, pulling back enough to look at you. “You’re already driving me crazy.”

His hand cups you fully over the fabric and you whimper, your hips shifting. His thumb strokes slowly over your nipple, still covered, and your breath stutters. It’s like every part of you is waking up for the first time—new, oversensitive, desperate to be touched more.

You don’t even realize you’re squirming until Jake chuckles.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice darker now, his free hand stroking your cheek. “So shy, but your body’s already telling me everything.”

You moan—embarrassed but also aching—and Jake leans in, his lips brushing your neck.

Your hands grip his shoulders before you can think. You whimper, completely undone by just his words.

“Jake…”

He kisses you again, rougher this time, and you feel it—his restraint starting to slip. But still, he holds back, lets you move how you need to. His mouth drops lower, trailing heat down your stomach.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs against your skin.

And you think you might. You think you might finally let yourself be seen, touched, loved like that.

You don’t remember nodding. You don’t even remember giving him permission with words. But Jake must see it in your eyes, or feel it in the way your legs relax, your thighs falling slightly open when he kisses the inside of your knee.

Because he moves like a promise—slow, reverent, steady. He slips your shorts down your legs, easing them past your hips with both hands like he’s unwrapping something sacred. Then he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, warm and patient.

Your breath stutters. You feel too exposed and not close enough all at once. You’ve never had anyone see you like this. Never had anyone want to. And now Jake is kneeling between your legs, hands gripping your thighs gently, thumbs stroking your skin like he’s soothing your nerves.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, looking right at you. “Even when you’re nervous. Especially when you’re nervous.”

You let out a shaky breath. Your body is buzzing. Too warm. Too bare. Too full of anticipation.

“I’ve never… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whisper.

Jake leans over you, kisses you gently. “You don’t have to do anything. Just feel. Just let me make you feel good.”

You nod, and his lips curve against yours like he’s proud.

Then he lowers himself again. Slowly. Carefully. He trails kisses down your stomach, your inner thighs, until he’s right there—where your arousal pulses like a second heartbeat. His hands rest on your thighs, holding you open without forcing. His breath hits you first—warm, steady—and your hips jerk slightly.

“Shh,” he whispers, voice gentle. “Just breathe for me.”

You try.

Then his mouth is on you.

The first lick is slow. Deliberate. His tongue flattens against you and drags upward in a way that makes your whole body jerk. You gasp—high and sharp—and Jake groans like you just did something to him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, lips brushing you. “You taste so sweet.”

Your thighs tense, but Jake’s hands keep you steady—secure, never rough. He licks again, deeper now, tongue curling right where you need it. Your back arches.

“Oh my god—Jake—”

His lips wrap around your clit gently, sucking, and your vision goes white for a second.

You can’t think.

You can barely breathe.

The sensation is overwhelming—hot and wet and perfect. Jake keeps going, keeps worshipping you with his mouth, like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that could satisfy him.

You’re moaning now, helplessly, and Jake groans again.

“That’s it, baby,” he says against you. “Let me hear you.”

You can’t stop.

Your hands tangle in the sheets—then in his hair. You don’t even realize you’re grinding against his mouth until he moans again, gripping your hips tighter to hold you steady.

You’re so close.

It’s building fast—too fast—and you warn him with a stuttering gasp of his name.

“Jake—fuck—I think I’m—”

“Let go for me,” he breathes. “Be good and come for me, pretty girl.”

That’s all it takes.

You shatter, body clenching, breath catching in your throat as pleasure crashes through you in waves. Your hips buck and Jake holds you through it, licking you softly now, easing you down with kisses like you’re something fragile.

You’re panting, legs trembling, skin flushed. You can’t think, can’t move.

Jake crawls back up your body and kisses you—deep, slow, tasting like you. You moan softly into it, dazed and warm.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

Jake laughs, low and proud. “You okay?”

You nod. Barely. Your body’s still trembling with the aftershocks.

“Never been better,” you breathe.

And he smiles like that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear.

Jake shifts slightly beside you, one hand resting low on your stomach, fingertips barely grazing the edge of your shirt. His voice is soft, but there’s a distinct heat to it now—like a secret being handed to you under the covers.

“You know what I was thinking about earlier?” he asks, like it’s casual, like he’s not about to ruin you.

You swallow, eyes flicking up to meet his. “What?”

He smiles, just a little. Mischievous. Reverent.

“I kept looking at your thighs when you were tucked under my blanket… all shy and pretty, trying to focus on your notes,” he murmurs, letting his hand trace down your hip. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you’d feel sitting on my face.”

Your breath hitches—sharp and instant. You try to blink the heat from your cheeks, but it floods you anyway, thick and fast.

Jake watches it all happen, his thumb pressing gently into your side. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he coaxes, his voice barely above a whisper now. “You, up there… thighs shaking while I hold onto you and eat you just the way you need. All that pressure, all that attention, just for you.”

You don’t mean to whimper, but it slips out, caught between disbelief and desire.

“I’d take my time, too,” he continues, dipping his head to kiss just under your jaw. “Make you feel everything. Over and over. Until you’re so sensitive, you’re begging me to stop—and then begging me not to.”

You feel like you might melt right into the bed. Your legs squeeze together instinctively, and he notices—his lips curve against your skin.

Jake tilts your chin so you’re looking straight at him. “I know it sounds intense,” he says, tone softer again. “But I��d never push you too far. Just enough to show you how good it can feel when you let go.”

You nod, because you trust him—because every nerve in your body is screaming yes.

“You want that?” he asks gently, but there’s a fire behind his eyes now. “You wanna sit on my face and let me take care of you like that?”

Your voice is almost gone when it finally comes out. “Yeah… I do.”

Jake smiles, proud and hungry all at once. “Good girl.”

Jake kisses you again, slower this time—long and lingering, like he wants to give you space to think, to breathe, to change your mind. But you don’t want space. You want him.

He shifts, laying with his head against the headboard and patting his chest with an inviting, wicked glint in his eyes. “C’mere,” he says, voice low and coaxing. “I’ll help you.”

You hesitate—not because you don’t want it, but because the thought of actually doing it, of being that exposed, that open for him, makes your heart pound in your throat. But he’s patient. He just watches you with a quiet reverence, like he’s already proud of you.

So you crawl over him, tentative and shy, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his head. He slides his hands up your thighs, his touch steady and warm.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Just like that. You look so pretty like this already.”

Your breath catches. You’re hovering just above his face, your core aching and wet and barely clothed, and his grip on your thighs tightens—encouraging, not forceful.

“Let me see you,” Jake says, gently tugging your panties aside with one finger, his eyes dark and hungry but still soft around the edges. “You don’t have to do anything but let go. I’ve got you.”

You nod, swallowing hard as your fingers press to the wall behind his headboard for balance.

His hands slide to your ass, firm and sure, pulling you the rest of the way down until your thighs are flush to his face and you feel the hot brush of his tongue against your folds. You gasp—high-pitched and sharp—hips jerking instinctively at the jolt of pleasure.

Jake groans against you, low and satisfied, and keeps licking—long, slow strokes that send sparks all through your body.

You try to hold still, try not to fall apart too quickly, but his grip is steady on your ass and he’s pulling you closer, deeper, nose buried between your thighs like he’s starving for it. His tongue circles your clit and your fingers curl against the wall, your knees trembling.

He moans again, louder this time, like the taste of you is driving him crazy.

“You can move, baby,” he murmurs between licks, his voice muffled but clear. “Grind on me. Let yourself feel good.”

You nod, breathless, and slowly begin to move—hips rolling, unsure at first, until his tongue catches right where you need him and your body takes over. The friction is overwhelming. Perfect. His mouth is relentless, tongue flicking and swirling while he groans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your thighs are shaking now, your moans uncontrolled. And then—his hand slides between your legs, two fingers teasing your entrance before slipping in slow and deep.

You cry out, back arching, head falling forward.

“Jake—” you gasp, voice breaking.

“I know,” he says softly, still licking, still curling his fingers just right. “You’re doing so good, baby. So sweet for me. So perfect.”

You’re not sure how much more you can take. Every lick, every curl of his fingers, is too much and not enough all at once. Your hips grind harder, your moans getting louder, and Jake doesn’t stop—he holds you there, mouth open and eager beneath you, tongue lapping and flicking with practiced, reverent hunger.

Your orgasm hits hard and fast—unexpected, blinding. You sob out his name, thighs quivering as your entire body tenses and then collapses against him.

He holds you through it, never letting go.

And when you finally lift your hips—panting, trembling—Jake’s eyes are glazed over with pure desire. His lips are wet, swollen, and he looks completely wrecked.

“Could stay like that all night,” he says with a breathless laugh. “You taste so fucking good.”

You can’t even answer—you just collapse forward into his chest, face burning, heart racing.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs again, brushing your hair back, kissing your shoulder. “You did so good for me.”

Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks as Jake lays you back against his pillows, fingers brushing along your sides like he can’t stop touching you. His eyes search your face, warm and focused.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod, flushed and breathless. “Yeah… I just…”

Jake leans down, kissing your cheek, then your jaw, and then your lips—slow and soft. “Tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay? We don’t have to do everything tonight.”

You shake your head gently. “I want to… I want you.”

His expression softens even more, if that’s possible—something tender settling in his eyes as he brings his forehead to yours.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Then I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He undresses you fully now, piece by piece—his hands warm and reverent on your skin, like he’s learning you by heart. You watch his eyes flick over you, and for the first time, you don’t feel self-conscious. His gaze is filled with so much awe that all you feel is wanted.

Jake undresses too, slow and careful, letting you see him in turn. And when he finally settles between your thighs, he takes his time—kissing down your neck, over your breasts, mouthing at your nipples until your breath catches all over again.

You’re wet again—still so sensitive—but the ache between your legs now has a different edge to it. A pull.

Jake props himself on one arm and reaches between your bodies with the other, stroking himself slowly, coating himself in your arousal.

“You sure?” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, heart pounding.

He lines himself up and kisses you—deep and full—before slowly, carefully, beginning to push in.

You gasp at the stretch, your body clenching instinctively.

“Breathe,” he whispers against your lips, pausing to give you time. “You’re doing so good. Just let me in. Nice and slow, yeah?”

You grip his hand, and he laces your fingers together, grounding you as he moves again—inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside you.

The fullness is overwhelming, but not painful—more like pressure and heat, something impossibly intimate. You blink up at him, wide-eyed, and he’s already watching you, completely still, his other hand brushing your hair back.

“God, you feel amazing,” Jake whispers, breath shaky. “So warm. So tight. You’re perfect, baby.”

Your eyes flutter, head falling back slightly as your body adjusts, and he takes that moment to kiss your throat, your collarbone, your chest—everywhere he can reach while he holds still inside you.

When he finally starts to move, it’s slow. Deep. Each thrust is deliberate, dragging along every nerve, making you gasp softly into his mouth.

“Eyes on me,” he murmurs. “I wanna see you.”

You try to hold his gaze, but it’s hard—your eyes want to roll back with every slow stroke, each one brushing something deep inside you that makes your legs shake. But his hand squeezes yours, thumb brushing your knuckles, and he leans in to kiss you again—soft and open-mouthed, like he’s trying to breathe you in.

When he pulls back, you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

“Don’t hold back,” he says, voice rough with restraint. “Let me hear you.”

So you do—you let the moan slip past your lips, let your hips roll into his, and Jake rewards you with a deeper thrust, groaning softly into your neck.

“That’s it,” he praises. “You’re taking me so well. So fucking pretty like this, baby.”

Your body moves on instinct now, chasing the friction, the feeling, your thighs wrapping around him as the pace builds—still gentle, but heavier now, more urgent. His free hand slips under your back to hold you closer, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.

And when you gasp again, trembling beneath him, Jake kisses you—slow and desperate—and whispers, “I’ve got you. You’re mine, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

Jake is still moving inside you—slow now, slower than before. His thrusts are deep and gentle, drawn out like he wants to memorize the shape of you from the inside. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, and his forehead rests against yours, lips barely grazing as you breathe each other in.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers, like it’s the only truth that matters.

His hand finds yours again, fingers lacing tight. The other cups your jaw, thumb stroking softly as he keeps his gaze locked on you. “I want you to come for me one more time, baby,” he murmurs. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, barely able to form the word yes, your whole body humming with overstimulated pleasure and overwhelming trust. He shifts just slightly, angling his hips to hit the spot that makes you gasp, makes your toes curl, and it’s too much—but just right.

Jake kisses you as you fall apart. He catches your moan in his mouth, swallowing every sound like it’s sacred. His strokes stay slow but sure, coaxing the orgasm out of you like a promise he fully intends to keep.

Your whole body clenches around him, your nails digging into his shoulder, your thighs trembling as the wave crests and breaks. Tears spring to your eyes from the intensity—how good it feels, how safe it feels, how full your heart is—and Jake’s right there whispering through it:

“That’s it, baby. Let go.”

“You’re so perfect like this.”

“I’ve got you.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until he’s brushing a tear away with his lips.

“Too much?” he asks, pulling back just enough to search your face.

You shake your head quickly, cupping his cheek. “No. It’s perfect. Just… a lot.”

“I know,” he says softly, kissing your palm. “You did so good.”

Jake comes just moments later, with your name on his lips and your body wrapped around him. It’s not loud, not rough—just deep and quiet and full of feeling. His hips stutter, and he holds you close, like he needs you as much as you need him.

He doesn’t rush. When it’s over, he stays still for a few seconds, breathing you in, pressing soft kisses to your cheek, your shoulder, your forehead.

Then, gently, he pulls out and helps you lay back. You feel everything—every brush of his fingers, every whisper of skin on skin—and you don’t want to let go of his hand.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low and careful.

You nod. “Yeah. Just… overwhelmed.”

He smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve got you.”

Jake disappears for a moment and returns with a warm towel and water. He’s gentle as he cleans you up, murmuring soft apologies every time you flinch from sensitivity. He kisses your thighs, your knees, your stomach—like each one deserves a thank you.

Once you’re comfortable, he helps you into one of his soft shirts and pulls the covers over both of you. You curl into his chest without thinking, and he welcomes you into his arms like you’ve always belonged there.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he says against your hair. “I’m so proud of you. I hope you know how much this meant to me.”

Your eyes sting again, and this time you let the tears fall. Not from sadness, but from being seen—completely and wholly—for the first time.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Jake kisses your temple. “No, thank you. For trusting me.”

You fall asleep in his arms, warm and safe and full in every sense of the word—with the quiet certainty that something’s changed forever… and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #jake smut #jake smau #jake x reader #jake sim #jake enha

531 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 8 months ago

Note

i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz

thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33

warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.

college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.

he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”

you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.

after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.

and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.

one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.

“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.

“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”

you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”

“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”

the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.

and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.

there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”

and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.

you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.

but then… spring party. fuck.

there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.

it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.

you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?

and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.

he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.

you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.

“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”

“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.

“wait a minute… are you jealous?”

the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”

“shut up, jeonghan.”

but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”

you blinked. “what?”

he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”

you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.

“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”

you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.

but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”

"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.

you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.

you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”

you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.

a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.

the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.

you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.

“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.

you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.

“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.

“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.

“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.

your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”

“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.

“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”

“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”

“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.

“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.

you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.

“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”

“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.

instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.

just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.

for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.

he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.

when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered

you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.

“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”

you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.

it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”

you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.

“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”

you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.

jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.

your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.

he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.

your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.

“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.

“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”

you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.

“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.

“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.

“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”

before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.

jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.

a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.

before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.

“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”

he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”

your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.

before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”

“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.

jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”

“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”

those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.

“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.

“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”

“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.

“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”

he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”

but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.

jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”

“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.

he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.

you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.

you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.

his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.

you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”

jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.

you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”

that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”

his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”

jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.

“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”

“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.

you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”

his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.

you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.

he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.

you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.

“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”

“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”

jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”

1K notes · View notes

aliyahwritings · 9 months ago

Text

PROTECTIVE INSTINCTS.

Summary: Rafe Cameron gets into a fight, and Sassy!Kook!Reader helps him clean up his wounds.

Warnings: childhood friends, overprotective!rafe, alcohol/coke mentioned, blood, dumb ahh inlove, annoying mf.

Words Count: 3163

A/N: my first 'official' post ohmygawwddd!!!! i hope you will all like this. u can imagine this out of the obx plot bc in this universe sarah and rafe lowk get along and she's not w topp*r. i imagine rafe being 20/21 and reader is js a year younger

Getting an invite to Topper's party was supposed to be the highlight of your week—a chance to let loose, drink, dance, and maybe sneak in a smoke or two. You were determined to have fun. You and Sarah had been buzzing about it for days, thrilled at the idea of a night out after what felt like an eternity of being buried under schoolwork. It had been ages since either of you had gone to a party, and with all the stress piling up, you needed the break.

But, of course, Rafe had to go and ruin it by reminding you that he existed and was going to attend the party.

As the night of the party arrived, you spent way too much time getting ready—your reflection in the mirror repeatedly checked as you perfected your messy dark eye makeup. Black heels on, strapless mini-dress in a black fabric. The waist is drawn with a thin, satin black ribbon into a neat bow. The skirt flared out slightly, you knew you looked stunning. Sarah had already sent you a dozen texts about how she couldn’t wait to hit the party, and you were just about ready to go.

When you arrived at the party, it was even more packed than you'd expected. Music thumped through the house, bodies swayed on the makeshift dance floor, and the smell of coke, smoke, and alcohol lingered in the air. Sarah grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd as you both laughed. That was exactly the chaos you both needed.

"God, I've missed this!" Sarah shouted over the music as we moved to the dance floor. You smiled, matching her energy, the rhythm pulling your bodies into a sway.

For a while, it was easy to forget everything—school stress, drama, even Rafe’s looming presence at the party.

That is, until you saw him.

Rafe Cameron, leaning against a wall with his usual arrogance, a bottle of beer in his hand and his eyes scanning the room like he owned the place. It wasn't long before his eyes landed on you, and as usual, he didn’t look away. His eyes tracked you from across the room. He always watched you—like it was his job to make sure you were okay, even though you made it clear you didn’t need him playing bodyguard.

You groaned inwardly.

“Just ignore him,” Sarah whispered in your ear, sensing your mood shift. “Come on, let’s dance.”

And you did—letting the music take over as you moved with your friend, blocking out everything else. For a moment, it felt like maybe, you could enjoy the night without thinking about him. You walked away from your friend to get both of you a drink but as you arrived at the bar, a guy who you didn’t recognize walked up to me, his breath hot and alcohol-laced as he leaned in too close, his voice low and crude.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk growing on his face. “You look stunning tonight. That dress—damn, it’s doing wonders to your body.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore him as you focused on getting your drinks. “Thanks, but I’m not interested,” you replied coolly, turning slightly away from him.

“Oh, come on now,” he pressed, undeterred. “Don’t be like that. I could make your night a lot more fun. I know how to show a girl a good time. I could take you somewhere private, just you and me. I bet I could make you feel better than any of the other guys ever could.”

You felt your stomach churn, irritation rising as you glanced around for an escape. “I really don’t think so,” you said firmly, your patience wearing thin. “Just back off, alright?”

But he stepped closer, invading your personal space even more, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Why're you playing hard to get when we both know you’re a slut. You don’t gotta pretend with me, baby—”

You rolled your eyes, about to insult him but the sound of a bottle smashing to the floor before Rafe’s fist collided with the guy's face.

“Say that again,” Rafe growled, his voice deadly calm as he grabbed the guy by the collar, pulling him close. The crowd around you froze, the music blaring in the background as Rafe’s knuckles bled from the punch he’d just thrown.

The guy stumbled, trying to mumble something that sounded like an apology, but of course, Rafe wasn’t done. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with a fury that sent chills down your spine.

“Rafe!” you shouted, pushing through the frozen crowd to get to him. “Let him go!”

But he barely heard you. His focus was locked on the guy, like he was two seconds ago from throwing another punch. It took Topper and Kelce rushing over to pull him off before things escalated any further.

The guy backed away, rubbing his jaw, his eyes wide with fear. “I-I didn’t know, man—”

“I don’t fucking care. Get out of here!” Rafe yelled, cutting him off, his chest still heaving with rage.

You watched as the guy walked away, his tail between his legs. Your attention shifted to Rafe, who turned on his heel and headed towards the stairs. You followed him with your eyes as he ascended until he disappeared into one of the rooms upstairs, shutting the door behind him.

You glanced around, searching for Sarah. When you spotted her you waved to catch her eye. She looked over, and you mouthed, “I’m going to check on Rafe.” Sarah gave you a quick nod.

With a deep breath, you pushed your way through the crowd and made your way upstairs, the noise from the party fading into the background as you reached the top. The hallway was quieter, the air heavier. Without hesitation, you headed straight for the door you saw Rafe disappear behind. You didn’t even think to knock; there was no need for formality between the two of you. It wasn’t in your nature to tiptoe around Rafe, not when you’d known him your entire life.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He glanced up when you entered, surprise flashing briefly in his eyes before it was replaced with that familiar guarded expression.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “What the hell is your problem, Rafe?” you told him, crossing your arms on your chest. “You can’t just go around hitting people!”

He stood up, glaring at you. “He deserved it,” he shot back. He turned away from you, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Did you hear the shit he was saying to you? You think I was just gonna stand there and let him talk to you like tha?”

You sighed, frustrated but not entirely surprised. This was Rafe—impulsive, overprotective, and always ready to throw a punch when it came to you. “Yeah, I heard it, Rafe—he was talking to me. And I could’ve handled it. I don’t need you acting like my knight in shining armor.”

His head snapped up at that, and he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “Really? You think you could’ve handled him? Because from where I was standing, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

You huffed, shaking your head. "That’s not the fucking point! You always do this. You’re always trying to play the hero when no one asked you to." You met his gaze with a hard stare of your own, refusing to back down.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he stepped even closer, closing the distance between you. His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "Maybe I’m not playing. Maybe I actually give a damn when some asshole thinks he can talk to you like that."

His proximity made the air between you feel charged, and you had to fight the urge to step back. Instead, you held your ground, your heart pounding in your chest. "And maybe you should learn to pick your battles instead of flying off the handle every time someone so much as looks at me the wrong way," you shot back, your voice just as sharp as his.

His lips twisted into a smirk, though there was no humor in it—just frustration. "Pick my battles?" He echoed, his voice low and dangerous. "Like you would ever let me. Every time I try to protect you, you act like it’s some kind of personal offense. Like I’m doing something wrong by giving a damn about what happens to you, Y/N."

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter across your chest. "Because it’s not about me! It’s about you needing to feel like you’re in control of everything. You can’t just punch your way through life, Rafe."

"It’s not about control. It’s about not letting anyone treat you like that. I’m not gonna stand by and watch it happen. Not when it’s you."

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. You sighed, the fight slowly leaving your body. “You’ve always been like this, you know?” you said, your tone softening just slightly. “Even when we were kids. You were always ready to defend me.”

His expression softened, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, well, some things don’t change.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “You’re impossible, Rafe Cameron.”

He let out a low laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. The anger between you was fading. He infuriated you, but deep down, you knew his heart was in the right place—even if he had a habit of making things way more complicated than they needed to be.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours, the tension still there but different now. He stepped closer again, but this time, there was no anger in his movements, just something more... deliberate. His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "You looked good tonight, by the way."

Your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with a smirk of your own. "You’re just now noticing?" you teased, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

"Trust me, I noticed the second you walked in."

You cleared your throat, breaking the intense moment between you two. “Let me see your hand,” you said, trying to refocus on something else.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky smirk creeping back onto his face. “What? Worried about me now, princess?”

“Hardly, but you’re a mess and someone’s gotta clean you up before you bleed all over Topper’s sheets.”

He grinned, stepping back slightly and letting you grab his hand. His skin was warm under your fingers, and you tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened as you turned his hand over, inspecting the damage. His knuckles were raw, a few cuts oozing blood.

You glanced around the room, spotting a small bathroom attached to the guest room. “Sit down,” you ordered, nodding towards the bed. Rafe didn’t argue—surprisingly—but the amused smirk never left his face as he sat down, watching you with that intense, unblinking gaze of his. You walked over to the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinet until you found some bandages and antiseptic wipes.

When you returned, Rafe had leaned back against the headboard, legs spread slightly, his arms resting on his knees like he was waiting to be entertained.

“Hold still,” you said firmly as you sat on the edge of the bed beside him, gently taking his injured hand in yours.

"Careful," he teased, his voice low and husky. "I might start thinking you actually care."

You shot him a quick glare, your eyes narrowed. "Or maybe I just don’t want to deal with your whining if this gets infected."

He chuckled, the sound deep and almost... seductive. "Trust me, I’m not the whining type. You, on the other hand, love getting under my skin."

You ignored his comment, though the corners of your mouth twitched in amusement. “Here you go, telling lies. Unlike you, I am responsible—something you wouldn’t understand.”

Rafe’s smirk widened, his blue eyes locked on yours as you worked. “Yeah? Is that why you spent half the night trying to avoid me?” He tilted his head. “You’re terrible at it, by the way.”

“Maybe I was avoiding you because I knew you’d do something stupid. And look, I was right.”

“So, you were watching me all night, huh? Didn’t realize I was that distracting.”

“More like I could sense the chaos coming from a mile away,” you shot back, the corner of your mouth twitching despite your best efforts not to smile.

“Admit it, you’d miss me if I didn’t cause a little chaos.”

You snorted, playfully nudging his good shoulder. “Miss you? I think my life would be way more peaceful.”

He gave a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest with his uninjured hand. “Wow. You really know how to wound a guy. If I wasn’t already bandaged, I’d need another one for my heart.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Please, Rafe. You’ve got an ego the size of this entire house. I think your heart’s just fine.”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe. But you like me this way.”

“Oh, do I now?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “And what makes you think that?”

Rafe leaned in just a little more, that teasing grin still plastered on his face. “Because, no matter how much you complain, you’re always right here. Taking care of me. Telling me I’m an idiot. It’s kind of your thing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the sass in your voice was playful. “It’s called charity work, Rafe. I should be getting paid for dealing with you.”

He laughed, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. “Oh, I’ll pay you back. Trust me.”

You tilted your head, giving him a sly smile. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that?”

Rafe’s grin widened at your challenge, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He shifted a little closer, the air between you growing even more charged. “Oh, you’ll see, princess. But you’ll have to be patient. I know that’s not your strong suit.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you leaned back on the bed, crossing your legs. “Patience? With you? That’s asking for a miracle, Cameron.”

He chuckled, his hand resting just beside your thigh. “Miracle? More like a blessing. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you know it.”

You shot him a look, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Best thing? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re like a stray dog that keeps following me around, begging for attention.”

Rafe smirked, leaning in so his face was closer to yours, his voice dropping low. "And you love the attention. Don’t act like you don’t.”

“Please, the only thing I love is the peace and quiet I get when you’re not around.”

He let out a mock gasp, putting a hand over his chest. “Ouch. Again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Dramatic again. Besides, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, that cocky grin never leaving his face. “Me? Can’t take it? You must be thinking of someone else, sweetheart. I can take anything you throw at me.”

You leaned in a little, matching his energy. “Anything? That sounds like a challenge.”

He tilted his head, his blue eyes locking onto yours, full of playful intensity. “It is. Go ahead, try me. What’ve you got?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think for a moment before smirking. “Alright. How about this? For starters, you’re predictable. Every time something doesn’t go your way, you throw a tantrum or a punch, like you’re still a spoiled little boy.”

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter, if anything, it grew. “Predictable? That’s rich, coming from someone who’s always acting like she doesn’t care when we both know she does.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “I don’t care. I just know how to deal with your dramatics.”

“Right. That’s why you followed me up here, bandaged my hand, and now you’re sitting here flirting with me,” Rafe said, his tone smug.

You blinked, caught off guard for a second. “Flirting? Don’t confuse taking care of your stupidity with flirting, Cameron.”

He leaned even closer, his lips just inches from yours now, his voice a low, teasing whisper. “Oh, so this isn’t flirting?”

You bit your lip, fighting the heat rising in your cheeks. “No. This is me being nice because you’re too dumb to take care of yourself.”

“Sure it is,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that husky tone that always made your heart race. “You’re really bad at hiding it, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Hiding what?”

Rafe grinned, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “How much you like being around me.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re delusional. I’m just here so Topper doesn’t kill you for bleeding all over his stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Rafe replied, his thumb lightly tracing circles on your thigh, the gesture casual but full of tension. “And I’m sure you’d leave the second I’m patched up, right?”

You blinked, but your voice didn’t waver as you answered, “Absolutely. As soon as I’m done here, I’m out.”

“Really?” His eyes sparkled with challenge, his breath warm on your skin. “Then why haven’t you left yet?”

You faltered, trying to keep your cool, but his proximity was intoxicating. “Because... You needed help for your hand and I couldn't let you be miserable.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Always gotta get the last word, huh?”

“Someone has to,” you shot back, but your voice was quieter, less sharp as the tension between you both thickened.

He watched you for a long moment, his gaze intense but soft at the same time. Then, with that infuriating smirk still on his face, he leaned back slightly. “Alright, I’ll let you win this round. But don’t think I didn’t notice how close you got just now.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed. “I was checking your hand, not getting close to you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess,” he teased, watching you as you walked toward the bathroom to put away the bandages.

You turned back to him, shaking your head with a smile. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet, you keep coming back,” Rafe quipped, standing up and stretching.

And he was right…

tags: @glors3 @mattyskies @cutiebuety @sumlovesjude @dilfluvr4ever @cooper8224 @octaviareina @imawhoretho @drewscoquette @cutiebuety @gracelynnmarielester @amourfolklore @gillybear17 @rafestaurusgf @meekmillsfrenchfries @auriellawp @urdreamgirl12 @katie-the-author @love1deandra @rafecameroninterlude @stargrltara @stupendousturt1e

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holybibly · 1 year ago

Text

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt.

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth.

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man.

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy.

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin. "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder.

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips.

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know. You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself.

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock.

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them.

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says. You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out. Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you. It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone.

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

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arabella0001 · 4 months ago

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i don’t wanna exaggerate but nanami IS the standard

Nanami Kento as your devoted husband

Nanami Kento, who believes love isn’t about dramatic gestures or poetic words, it’s about consistency. The quiet kind of devotion that makes you feel safe, cared for, and never alone.

Nanami Kento, who comes home late sometimes, exhausted from work, but still manages to greet you with a tired but genuine, “I’m home.” And if you’re waiting for him, he’ll let out the smallest sigh of relief, as if seeing you makes the long day worth it.

Nanami Kento, who listens. Really listens. You could be rambling about the most random thing, he may not always respond with enthusiasm, but days later, you’ll find that he remembered every single detail. To him, love isn’t just about words. it’s about knowing you, truly knowing you.

Nanami Kento, who always wakes up before you, not because he has to, but because he likes to start the day with a sense of order. Before he leaves, he sets your coffee beside the bed, just the way you like it. He never mentions it, never expects a thank you, but he does it every single morning.

Nanami Kento, who holds the door open for you, always walks on the street side of the sidewalk, and places a protective hand on your lower back when leading you through crowded spaces. He never makes a show of it, it’s just who he is.

Nanami Kento, who presses a kiss to your forehead before heading to work, adjusting your blanket if you’re still asleep. He’s not the type for grand declarations of love, but in the quiet way he lingers for just a second longer, you can feel it.

Nanami Kento, who never forgets anniversaries, not because he’s sentimental, but because if something matters to you, then it matters to him.

Nanami Kento, who keeps his work stress to himself, never letting his exhaustion weigh on you, but somehow always finds time to ask, “Did you eat today?” He listens to your answer like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Nanami Kento, who doesn’t just buy you gifts, but practical gifts—the kind that make your daily life easier, the kind that show he pays attention to what you actually need.

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months ago

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"It reminded me of you."

Will looks into his cupped hands. He purses his lips. He opens his mouth. He closes it. He opens it again.

"This is, uh." He clears his throat. "It, being this fish skeleton?"

Nico nods. "Yes."

Will waits for an explanation. With none forthcoming, he looks up, intent on asking for it directly, but his tongue does completely numb in his mouth, jaw softly unlocking. From the late afternoon sun behind him golden rays shine directly into pools of what has become spun copper and amber brown; spools of shining wire surrounded by shining white. It takes him time uncountable to register the wide, round soporifics in front of him are in fact Nico's eyes, cradled in the light, watching him.

"What," Will tries, mouth dry, "uh, what? Why. I mean." He holds up his hands. They're shaking. "Fish?"

"That's you," says Nico, crowding into Will's space. Will makes a noise that can be registered only by bats, dolphins, and bush crickets.

Nico's callused hands encircle Will's wrist and his soul ascends, exiting from his body, floating away gayly away until Will snags it by the ankle and yanks it back to his mortal body. Dad, if you can hear me, I cannot stress how much you owe me and how badly I am calling in that favor. SOS. SOS. SOS. SO --

"It's small, see. Delicate."

"I'm -- six two?"

"Yeah, physically." Nico pokes at the tiny little spine. "But you're, like." He makes a squishing motion with his hand. "Crushable, you know? You just go around feeling your feelings at full force. All over the place. Delicate."

Will is pretty sure he's ghasting. Is that what it's called? Flabbering one's ghast? When you just -- kind of stand there, slack jawed, wheezing like a doofus? Maybe he is a fish. "Nico, I've got --" He makes a swooping gesture in front of his nose, trying and visibly failing at indicating a plague mask. "You know? I could poison you."

"Yeah, that's why I picked one that died from whirling disease."

"How...thoughtful?"

"Thanks."

Nico returns to the fish skeleton. He points out the eye sockets. "See here? The fish had shallow orbits so it probably had big eyes like you."

"I have big eyes?"

"Duh. You are ninety percent eye. Everyone looks at you and it's like bam. Blue. All you can see."

Will begs the red to recede from his cheeks. He can hear the echo of his father's cackling, all the way from his stupid dork ass nerd ass lame tryhard chariot, and the red continues to rise.

"You -- like my eyes?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Hey, look here. You can see its -- are you looking? -- you can see its heart cavity. Cool, right? Your heart is going really fast."

A high-pitched noise comes out of Will's throat, sourced from somewhere in his kneecaps, probably. They're wobbling enough.

"Yeah, I -- uh, best believe I noticed."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm vibing. Chilling, even. One could even say I'm maxing, relaxing, acting all cool. If there was a basketball net outside of a school I would be totally shooting right now."

"You're acting weird," Nico accuses.

Will laughs out loud. No, like, really laughs, it comes out of his stomach and then his knees give out and he barely manages to catch himself, hunching over, veins hot rod boiling and stomach writhing and face the color of a gently polished tomato. He may have passed.

"Oh, my gods, something kill me."

"Whatever, weirdo. Come back over, I want to show you why the rib cage is representative of your repression issues."

"Okay."

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pbaz7 · 3 months ago

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FINDING PEACE IN YOU: PART 5

paige x azzi

word count: 6.1k

A/N: Idek y’all had me stressed with the lil research you did 🙃. Filler chapter but also not really because it’s going to move the story along quite a bit . I stress wrote this btw. Let me know what you think! Also happy game day, enjoy this while we wait 6 more hours for the game

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Five months into seeing one another, Paige and Azzi had settled into something that felt easy—natural. Azzi had been to a few of Paige’s games, never making a big show of it, just quietly taking a seat with Paige’s family, blending into the crowd. They weren’t hiding their relationship, but they weren’t announcing anything either.

For the most part, the media hadn’t caught on, at least not in a major way. There had been small rumors—wide-eyed fans catching glimpses of Azzi in the background of pictures, a few speculative tweets wondering why she was always around these days. But there was nothing concrete. Nothing they ever had to address.

Tonight though, Azzi was Paige’s plus-one for a charity event in Dallas—one that Paige not only supported but owned half of. It was a high-profile event, filled with notable figures from the city, from athletes to business investors, all gathered in the grand ballroom of a luxury hotel to raise money for Dallas children.

When Paige arrived she was ushered toward the red carpet for pictures. Azzi instinctively started to step to the side, assuming Paige would take them alone. But before she could step away, Paige’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, pulling Azzi back toward her.

Azzi glanced at her in question, and Paige licked her lips before saying, “You wanna be in ‘em with me?”

Azzi blinked. “In what?”

Paige chuckled at her confusion, her eyes flicking between Azzi’s. “Some of the pictures I’m about to take, baby.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, knowing the implications. “You sure?”

Paige smiled, squeezing her hand. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t for real big head.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she was able to hide the small smile forming as Paige led them toward the red carpet. The moment they stepped into the bright lights, Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s waist and Azzi leaned into her, resting her hand against Paige’s stomach as the cameras immediately reacted, multiple flashes going off simultaneously.

As they adjusted their stance slightly, shifting with the cues from the photographers as Azzi adjusted her dress, Paige leaned in, her lips brushing just below Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “You good? Is it too much?”

Azzi smiled at Paige, her fingers briefly squeezing Paige’s waist in silent reassurance. “I’m good baby.”

Paige smiled at that, pressing a quick kiss to Azzi’s temple before they turned back to the cameras, taking a few more pictures together. After a few moments, Azzi stepped aside, giving Paige the space to take a few solo pictures while she moved out of frame, watching from the side with quiet admiration.

For most of the night, Paige and Azzi stayed close. Azzi made every effort to keep Paige entertained, knowing that these kinds of events weren’t her scene but Paige had to be present the entire night. The few times they did part ways, it was only briefly—Paige stepping up to deliver a short speech and thanking everyone for coming out or being pulled aside for a quick interview.

It was towards the end of the event and Azzi currently sat at the bar, one leg draped over the other, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertips. Paige’s suit jacket rested over her shoulders, the fabric still carrying the familiarness of how Paige smelled, sending a subtle tingle through Azzi’s body when she got a whiff of it. The drink in her hand was all but forgotten.

Her eyes had been locked on Paige, who was mid-interview across the room that was now almost empty. Even from a distance, Paige’s presence was magnetic, the soft curve of her lips as she spoke, the way her hand instinctively slipped into her pocket like she was stopping herself from fidgeting.

Paige must have felt the weight of Azzi’s stare because mid-sentence, her gaze flickered up, locking onto Azzi’s across the space. A slow smirk ghosted over Paige’s lips as she tilted her head slightly, her eyes dragging over Azzi like she was committing her to memory.

Azzi lifted her eyebrow in response, lips parting just slightly before she pressed them together. She could see Paige’s eyes dipping down to her chest briefly, tracing the line of her exposed collarbone and her chest beneath the jacket before flickering back up. Paige bit her lip, raising both of her eyebrows at Azzi.

Azzi exhaled through her nose, amusement in her expression as she mouthed, “Behave.”

Paige was still smirking as she shrugged like she was innocent, but the way she was looking at Azzi still said otherwise. Azzi just shook her head, biting back a smile before finally breaking eye contact.

She was about to take another sip of her drink when someone next to her cleared their throat.

She barely acknowledged it at first, assuming it was just another lingering guest ordering a drink, but then a voice she hadn’t heard in years cut through the air.

“Azzi.”

Her body stiffened slightly—subtly, barely noticeable to anyone else, but enough for her to feel it in her muscles. Azzi slowly turned her head, her expression instantly cooling. Her ex stood beside her, wearing a carefully practiced smile, as if the past was something that could be smoothed over with pleasantries. Azzi didn’t offer a greeting; all she could muster was a slow, unimpressed blink.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” her ex said, shifting slightly, one arm resting against the bar.

Azzi’s tone was completely flat. “Makes two of us.”

Her ex let out a small laugh, like she was amused by Azzi’s reaction rather than deterred by it. “You look really good… amazing, actually, beautiful. It’s been a while.”

Azzi hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t offer anything more than that. She truly had no interest in small talk, no desire to even look at her ex. Instead, she lifted her glass and took a long sip, her gaze flickering to find Paige across the room. When she looked over Paige was already watching her. Watching the interaction as she spoke to the young man in front of her.

There was a silent question in the way Paige’s head tilted slightly as she watched Azzi. She wasn’t approaching but Azzi could see the way her jaw tensed, the way her fingers lightly tapped against the glass in her hand.

Her ex spoke again, pulling Azzi’s attention back. “How you been?”

Azzi let out a slow sigh before answering. “I’m great. Is there something I can help you with?”

Her ex shifted slightly, clearly not expecting the bluntness. “I’m just trying to catch up. Talk to you a little.”

Azzi didn’t bother hiding her disinterest. “Really not interested in speaking.” She took another sip of her drink, showing that the conversation was already over in her mind.

But her ex didn’t get the hint. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. I know I hurt you.” She paused, trying to gauge Azzi’s reaction before continuing. “I’ve grown a lot since then though. I wasn’t ready to settle down fully back then, and I handled things badly.”

Azzi hummed, swirling the liquid in her glass as she missed with her nails.

Her ex sighed. “I just… I really did love you, you know.”

Azzi finally turned her head to look at her, expression completely unreadable. “Please have the decency to not lie to my face right now.”

Her ex’s lips parted, eyes flickering with something—guilt, maybe—regret. “I swear I did, Azzi.”

Azzi let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “Ok and was that before or after you fucked somebody else and still crawled into my bed every night for two years?”

The words landed between them with the weight of something that was buried some time ago but clearly never forgotten. Her ex didn’t have an immediate response. Just a sigh, one of those woe is me sighs that Azzi had lost patience for at some point towards the end of their relationship.

“Look, maybe we can get coffee or something,” her ex tried again, shifting slightly, like she was testing the waters. “You know, talk. Maybe get on the same page again.”

Azzi arched an eyebrow, lips parting in disbelief before she let out another short incredulous laugh. “Get on the same page again?” She tilted her head. “And what page is that exactly?”

Her ex swallowed, then shrugged, attempting nonchalance but failing. “What we had was perfect and you know I’m ready to settle down now.”

Azzi stared at her for a long beat ready to say something before she exhaled, shaking her head instead as she reached for her drink again. “Good for you.”

Her ex opened her mouth, maybe to protest or push her luck some morw, but whatever thought she had evaporated the second Paige approached.

It was almost comical how quickly her ex’s expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the new presence behind Azzi’s seat. Whatever lingering confidence she had was replaced with excitement, her voice a little breathless as she blurted out, “Oh my god, holy shit! I’ve been a huge fan of yours since I was in high school! Swear I’m one of your biggest fans.”

Azzi didn’t bother to hide the way her lips twitched in amusement, swirling the last of her drink in her glass as Paige offered a polite, practiced smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate the support.”

Azzi’s ex, still caught up in her enthusiasm, hesitated for only a second before asking, “Would you mind if we took a picture?”

Azzi chuckled quietly as Paige stepped from behind her chair. Paige adjusted her posture and leaned in just enough for the selfie.

Azzi didn’t say anything, just finished off her drink, her smirk barely hidden behind the rim of the glass.

Azzi’s ex cleared her throat, attempting to keep the conversation going. “The event was great too. It’s really amazing what you’re doing for the Dallas youth.”

Paige, still polite but uninterested in any lingering conversation, gave a small nod. “Yeah, we’re really proud of the work being done. Thanks for coming out to support.”

There was a brief pause, the kind that made it clear there wasn’t much else to say. But Azzi’s ex, grasping for a reason to stay, attempted to sound casual as she asked, “Came over here for a drink?”

Paige nodded as she flagged down the bartender with a simple gesture. “Yeah.”

The bartender approached with a friendly smile. “What can I get you?”

Paige slid her glass onto the bar. “Can you just top me off please?”

As the bartender grabbed the bottle, Paige’s eyes flickered toward Azzi’s glass, noticing it was empty. Paige added, “And another of whatever sugary-ass drink she has.”

Azzi let out a small laugh as she playfully rolled her eyes. “You act like you don’t secretly like them.”

Paige scoffed. “I don't, I just like when you get a spike shirley.”

Azzi smirked, her eyes twinkling as she took another sip of her new drink. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

As they bantered, Azzi’s ex, who had been standing off to the side, slowly started to piece things together. Her eyes flicked between the two of them, finally landing on Paige’s slightly unbuttoned shirt and the absence of her jacket. Then her gaze dropped to Azzi, where Paige’s jacket was draped casually, Paige's hand resting on the back of Azzi’s neck. The realization hit her and she frowned, suddenly quiet as she processed the connection.

After a moment, Azzi’s ex decided to speak up, her voice trying to sound casual. “Azzi, you gonna introduce us?”

Paige looked down at Azzi, her smile fading as she noticed the flicker of irritation in Azzi’s expression. Paige stepped closer, positioning herself in front of Azzi as if she was instinctively protecting her from something.

Paige gently tilted Azzi’s head up toward her, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s jaw. “You good, baby?” she asked quietly, her tone soft as she searched Azzi’s brown eyes.

For a brief moment, Azzi’s irritation wavered, tempered by the softness in Paige’s voice, by the steady blue of her gaze. But the tension still lingered in the slight tightness of Azzi’s jaw, the way she exhaled a little too slowly. “Yeah, I’m good,” Azzi muttered, but there was a hesitation there—one Paige would never miss.

Paige’s fingers remained light on Azzi’s jaw. When Azzi’s gaze flickered past Paige, hardening slightly again, Paige gently redirected her attention, using the slightest pressure to tilt her chin back toward her.

She didn’t speak this time, just let the quiet question settle between them. You sure?

Azzi blinked, something flickering behind her eyes before she exhaled again, this time a little steadier. Paige didn’t push—just held her gaze, silently offering her an out.

“Can we go home? I’m tired baby,” Azzi murmured, her voice quieter now.

“Of course beautiful.”

Paige stepped to the side, giving Azzi space to stand, but as soon as she did, Paige shifted, positioning herself between Azzi and the woman still lingering nearby. Paige still didn’t know who she was—just that Azzi didn’t want to be around her and that was enough.

Paige pulled a wad of cash from her pocket, peeling off a few bills and sliding them across the bar. The bartender nodded in thanks, but Paige’s attention was already back to Azzi.

As Azzi moved to step away, her ex shifted—reaching out, fingers barely extending before Paige was already there. Her hand settled on the small of Azzi’s back, a seamless motion that placed herself between them. A silent barrier.

Without sparing a glance back, Paige guided Azzi forward, her grip tightening as she pulled her in. Azzi didn’t resist, letting herself lean into Paige as they made their way through the hall.

…

The drive to Paige’s house was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. Azzi didn’t mind the silence—Paige had always been like this, letting her process things without forcing conversation.

Azzi glanced out the window, watching the familiar roads pass by, but her brows furrowed when she noticed Paige taking a different route. She didn’t ask, just let her curiosity simmer until Paige pulled into a Dairy Queen parking lot. A small smile tugged at Azzi’s lips as she turned to look at her.

Paige didn’t say anything, just put the car in park and hopped out, leaving the engine running. Azzi watched through the windshield as Paige walked inside, hands in her pockets, her shoulders relaxed despite everything. A few minutes later, she returned, a small cup of ice cream in each hand.

Sliding back into the driver’s seat, Paige handed Azzi one without saying anything. Azzi took it, her fingers brushing against Paige’s for a second longer than necessary. “Thank you,” she whispered, the quiet sincerity in her voice saying more than just gratitude for the ice cream.

Paige adjusted her seat, leaning it back slightly. She took a bite of her ice cream, letting the spoon linger in her mouth before finally speaking. “You wanna talk about it?”

Azzi sighed, twirling her spoon in the ice cream before answering. “That was my ex.”

Paige nodded, scooping another bite of her ice cream. “Did she say something that upset you?”

Azzi shook her head. “Her presence upsets me,” she muttered. “Which is annoying in itself.”

Paige glanced over at her. “Why?”

Azzi sighed, taking another bite of her ice cream before leaning back slightly. “It’s just…I’ve grown so much since that relationship. I’ve learned a lot about myself, about what I want, what I deserve. And yet, just seeing her still gets under my skin.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It makes me question a lot.”

Paige tilted her head, watching her for a moment before saying, “I think it just means you don’t like her.”

Azzi let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to not like her, though. I want to be indifferent.”

Paige gave a small smile, scooping up another bite of ice cream. “It’s okay not to like people, you know that right baby?

Azzi sighed again, rolling her spoon between her fingers. “I don’t even have a reason to not like her anymore.”

“You know that’s not true gorgeous.”

Azzi let out a long breath, her fingers tightening slightly around the spoon in her hand. She looked down, blinking quickly, but Paige caught the way her eyes shimmered. Paige reached over, gently taking the ice cream from her. Azzi let her, not questioning it as Paige rolled down her window and tossed both their cups into the trash can she parked next to.

Azzi huffed out a laugh, sniffling. “Damn. Was it that bad?”

Paige turned back to her, leaning on the center console. “No,” she said softly. “But I figured you needed your hands free.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, tilting her head back against the seat. “I hate that she still gets to me. I don’t want her to. I don’t even care about her anymore, but—” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “She made me feel awful about myself for so long. She made me question everything, made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like what I needed was too much. And now, even after all this time, it’s like she’s still in my head.”

Paige reached over, threading their fingers together. “That’s because she changed the way you see things, Az,” Paige said gently. “She messed with the way you view relationships, the way you trust people. That’s not something you just get over overnight.”

Azzi swallowed, squeezing Paige’s hand. “I don’t want to give her that kind of power.”

“You’re not giving her anything,” Paige reassured her. “You’re healing. That takes time.”

“I’ve been healing for a while now. Gets a little old.”

Paige squeezed her hand. “You told me you always tell your clients that healing isn’t linear. Maybe you should take your own advice. Just because yours isn’t physical doesn’t mean it can’t be applied to you.”

Azzi let out a weak laugh, rolling her eyes, but Paige could see the way her jaw tensed, the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard and looked up at the roof of the car. Despite that a single tear slipped down Azzi’s cheek, then another, and she huffed in frustration, shaking her head again like she could will them away.

Paige didn’t say anything. She just reached over, brushing the tip of her fingers against Azzi’s cheek, dabbing at the tears instead of wiping them so she wouldn’t smudge her makeup.

Azzi sniffled, a laugh bubbling up through the emotion. “Are you seriously patting my tears away right now?”

Paige smirked. “I know how much effort you put into your makeup tonight. Not about to ruin that just because you got a little in your feelings.”

Azzi swatted at Paige’s hand with a playful nudge before narrowing her eyes. “You’re annoying.”

Paige grinned. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” Azzi mumbled under her breath, trying to suppress the lingering smile forming.

Paige didn’t bother arguing. Instead she threaded their fingers together, lifting Azzi’s hand to her mouth and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. The gesture was gentle, intimate—two things Azzi was quickly growing accustomed to.

“You good now baby?” Paige asked, like she already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Paige grinned widely before saying, “Good now gimme a kiss,” she said, tugging Azzi’s hand closer. “For being better than everybody else you been with.”

“Those words never came out of my mouth.”

Paige licked her lips as she leaned in just a little. “Mmm, I think they did.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow. “When?”

Paige tilted her head, eyes flickering to Azzi’s lips before dragging back up. “Few days ago,” she whispered. “You were under me, telling me I was the best you ever had.”

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, exhaling a quiet laugh as the memory surfaced. She hated how smug Paige looked, how she knew exactly what she was doing—but it wasn’t like she was wrong.

Paige leaned in a little closer, her breath warm against Azzi’s lips. “So like I said, where’s my kiss?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching despite her best efforts. But before Paige could tease her again, Azzi leaned forward, closing the distance between them pressing her lips into Paige’s.

Paige let out a soft hum of satisfaction, her smile growing against Azzi’s mouth as she deepened the kiss just a little, her fingers still laced with Azzi’s.

When they pulled apart, Paige was grinning a little smugly when she saw the dazed look in Azzi’s eyes. “Told you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, this time with less resistance. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

Paige pulled out her phone, unlocking it.

Azzi squinted at her suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

Paige opened her Instagram camera, flipping the camera. “Take a picture with me.”

Azzi frowned. “I probably look a mess.”

Paige tilted her head towards Azzi, making a face like she herself was insulted. “You look beautiful,” she said, nudging Azzi’s cheek with her nose. “I patted and didn’t rub, remember?”

Azzi smiles at her before saying a simple, “Okay.”

Paige angled the camera, capturing the two of them in the warm glow of the street lights, the Dairy Queen sign adding a little brightness to the camera. Paige, radiated an easy confidence. The undone buttons of her shirt and the way she leaned into Azzi made her look completely at ease, like she belonged exactly where she was. Azzi, still wrapped in Paige’s jacket, had a quiet intensity to her. The remnants of her earlier tears only added to her allure—her dark eyes, slightly swollen, gave her a smoldering look, framed by the strands of hair that had fallen slightly out of place as she leaned into Paige.

Their positioning was natural, intimate without trying to be—Azzi’s fingers were resting lightly on Paige’s jaw. The contrast between them was striking in the picture—Paige’s sharp features, her pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair against the depth of Azzi’s tan skin, darker eyes and brown hair. Yet, together, they looked effortlessly cohesive, like two halves of a picture that had always been meant to fit.

When Paige snapped the picture Azzi immediately leaned in to inspect it, her eyebrows raising slightly. “You look too good.”

Paige laughed. “You’re the one eye fucking the camera.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, shifting back into her seat as Paige typed out a quick caption. Pretty girl. She posted it without another thought, locking her phone and tossing it onto the center console.

“You’re about to have groupies in my comments.”

Paige scoffed, leaning back into her seat. “I don’t have groupies.”

The second the words left her mouth, her phone buzzed. Then again. And again. Paige barely had to glance down to know exactly what was happening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smug smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh? Who's that then?”

“Nothing.”

Azzi snorted, shaking her head. “Mhm. That’s what I thought.” She then picks up Paige’s phone and unlocks it to scroll through the incoming DM’s of people having meltdowns. Azzi was still scrolling through the DM’s laughing at some of them when Paige shifted closer, resting her head against the seat as she draped an arm over Azzi’s lap. “You know,” Paige murmured in a smooth voice, “you’re real cute when you get all serious.”

“Serious?”

“Mhm.” Paige’s fingers trailed lightly over the exposed portion of Azzi’s thigh for the slit in her dress, tracing absent patterns. “You’re pouting a little when you read the ones that aren’t funny.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” Paige lifted her head slightly, her breath warm against Azzi’s cheek as she leaned in enough to test the space between them. “I like it though.”

Azzi felt her resolve slip the way it always did when Paige got like this—low-voiced, teasing her, looking at her like she was the only thing in the world worth paying attention to.

Then, Azzi’s phone buzzed against her thigh.

Paige whispered. “Ignore it.”

Azzi hesitated, Paige’s lips a breath away from hers. But then it buzzed again. And again.

Paige let her head drop back against the seat with a groan as Azzi finally glanced down to grab her phone. As soon as the screen lit up, her brows furrowed.

“What?” Paige asked, peeking over.

Azzi turned the phone toward her, showing the rapid stream of Instagram notifications. Follows. Likes. Comments. Her follower count was jumping by the second.

Paige’s lips twitched. “Oh.”

Azzi blinked at the screen. “Did you just make me go viral?”

Paige smirked,shrugging innocently. “I mean…I did caption it ‘pretty girl.’ You were makin eyes at the camera too so that prolly didn’t help.”

Azzi shot her a look. “You’re so—”

“I know.” Paige grinned, looking too pleased with herself as she slid a hand over Azzi’s thigh again. “Now, where were we?”

Azzi pushes her hand off playfully as she attempts to get her instagram to stop glitching so she can manage the notifications. “You were taking me home.”

Paige groans, mumbling about how groupies ruin everything as she puts the car in drive.

…

For the next few weeks the attention Azzi got only grew.

Azzi barely had to unlock her phone anymore before seeing another wave of notifications—more follows, more comments, and, of course, more DMs. It wasn’t just online, either. Random people started recognizing her when she was getting coffee, some even bold enough to ask if she was that girl from Paige’s Instagram post that went viral.

For the most part, she and Paige laughed about it.

“This is actually insane,” Azzi muttered, scrolling through her DMs.

Paige was sprawled across Azzi’s couch, tossing a basketball up and catching it. “What now?”

Azzi smirked, eyes scanning her screen. “Just some dude asking if I need a personal trainer.”

Paige caught the ball midair and sat up. “Blocked.”

Azzi laughed. “I didn’t even open it.”

“Still. Blocked.” Paige reached over, swiping at Azzi’s phone, but Azzi snatched it away, grinning.

“Relax,” Azzi teased.

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Show me your DMs.”

Azzi raised a brow. “No.”

“Oh, so there is something in there.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and held out the phone. “Here, go crazy.”

Paige snatched it instantly, scrolling with laser focus. “Mmm… thirst, thirst, weird thirst—” she made a face before tossing the phone back to Azzi. “I take back what I said. Block them all. Matter fact you should make your account private.”

Azzi snorted. “Jealous much?”

Paige didn’t even hesitate. “Obviously.”

Azzi smirked, tilting her head. “Alright, then let me see your DMs.”

Paige just pointed toward her phone, which was sitting on the coffee table. “Go ahead.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes at how unbothered Paige was, but grabbed the phone anyway. She unlocked it—Paige had already told her the passcode a long time ago—and pulled up Instagram. The moment she tapped on the DM requests, her mouth fell open.

“Oh. My. God.”

Paige just grinned, stretching her arms behind her head. “What?”

Azzi turned the phone around. “What?? Paige, this is disgusting. There are at least five people offering to be ‘ready,’ tonight.”

Paige shrugged. “Yeah, that happens. Gotta ignore those.”

Azzi scrolled further, eyes widening at whatever she was looking at.

Paige chuckled saying, “Really hope you didn’t open any pictures.”

Azzi groaned, swiping aggressively. “Nope. Nope. Absolutely not.” She started blocking accounts left and right.

Paige just laughed. “You really over there working overtime.”

“Someone has to,” Azzi muttered. “This is actually unhinged. Some of them need to be housed.”

Paige laughed, watching Azzi hit ‘block’ on yet another overly persistent DM. “Mmm. What’d you say earlier. Jealous much?”

Azzi glanced up, unimpressed at Paige’s sarcasm. “Obviously.”

Paige grinned, going back to shooting the ball in the air. “Cute.”

…

Paige and Lukas had fallen into an easy routine—picking Azzi up from her clinic whenever Paige was in town or didn’t have a game, their little trio moving like clockwork. Tonight was no different. They had just stepped off the elevator, Paige carrying Azzi’s bag as they made their way toward the exit.

The second Paige pushed open the glass door she tensed.

It wasn’t a crowd, not really. Maybe seven or eight people. But the fact that they were there, waiting outside Azzi’s job, made her stomach tighten.

Her security guard was already standing off to the side, having gotten out of his car to manage the situation but that didn’t stop Paige’s instincts from kicking in. She scooped Lukas up, settling him on her hip as her eyes flickered across the group.

The fans weren’t aggressive. Just excited. Some held their phones up, recording, calling out Paige’s name, asking for pictures, for autographs. It was nothing she hadn’t seen before, but them being here like this didn’t sit right with her.

So, Paige ignored them completely.

She walked ahead of Azzi, opening the back door and setting Lukas down in his seat. “You got it?” she murmured.

Lukas nodded, already reaching for his seatbelt. Paige trusted him to handle it, so she shut the door and turned back to Azzi and opened the passenger door for her.

Azzi didn’t say anything as Paige opened the door. Paige’s jaw tightened slightly before she exhaled, watching Azzi climb into the seat. Once Azzi was settled in, Paige shut the door behind her, then turned back toward the group.

“Yo,” she said, her voice a little aggressive as she addressed them. “This ain’t cool.”

The excitement in the air dimmed quickly. A few people awkwardly shuffled their feet.

Paige shook her head. “I don’t mind seeing everybody at games or events or even out randomly, but not at her job.” Her jaw was tight as she spoke to them. “Don’t do no shit like this again.”

Silence. Some nodded, some looked embarrassed. Paige didn’t wait for a response, she just turned on her heel and headed for the driver’s side. The moment she got in the car and pulled the door shut she exhaled, gripping the wheel for a second before glancing over. “You okay?”

Azzi nodded, not nearly as fazed as Paige. “Yeah.”

Paige’s jaw tightened slightly as she said, “I’m getting you security.”

Azzi frowned. “Paige, I don’t need a security guard.”

“I’m getting you one. End of story.”

Azzi opened her mouth ready to argue, but Paige sent her a look. “Azzi.” Her voice wasn’t harsh, but it was the first time she hadn’t been soft-spoken with Azzi.

Azzi sighed, pressing her lips together, knowing there was no point in pushing back right now. So she just let it go.

…

Later that night, after putting Lukas to sleep in his room, Paige and Azzi were settled into Paige’s bed. Azzi was laying on Paige slightly, her book resting against Paige’s stomach as she read, while Paige leaned back against the headboard, watching film from her last game on her iPad. The room was quiet except for the occasional sound of Paige’s game audio and the rustling of Azzi flipping a page.

After a while, Azzi lowered her book slightly, her gaze shifting up toward Paige. She watched the way Paige’s eyebrow furrowed, her fingers idly tapping against the screen as she analyzed a play. Paige must’ve sensed Azzi looking because she glanced down, catching Azzi staring.

Paige smirked, setting her iPad down and running a hand through Azzi’s curls. “Wassup?”

Azzi smiled at the touch, closing her book and shifting slightly to rest more comfortably against Paige’s chest. “Can we talk about earlier?”

Paige kept running her fingers through Azzi’s curls. “Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s face.

Azzi adjusted further, tucking herself deeper against Paige’s chest, her fingers starting to idly trace patterns over Paige’s side. The two of them had realized early on that they talked more freely like this—when they were physically connected, their guards down, the closeness making honesty easier.

Paige spoke first. “I’m sorry about my tone, baby. I didn’t mean to talk to you like that or dismiss you.”

Azzi let out a small sigh, shaking her head slightly. “It’s okay. I understand emotions were a little high at the moment.” She paused, then hesitated before admitting, “I get why you want me to have security, but it just… it feels weird. I’m not…I don’t know.”

“You’re not me,” Paige finished for her, her fingers still gently massaging Azzi’s head.

Azzi nodded, relaxing into Paige’s touch. “It feels a little excessive.”

“I know…” Paige murmured. “I just… I’ve seen how fast stuff like that can escalate and get out of control, and I can’t be there all the time.” Her fingers tightened ever so slightly against Azzi’s scalp. “So if I can’t be there, I just need to know you’re safe. That’s all.”

Azzi sighed, her fingers still absentmindedly tracing over Paige’s side. “And I appreciate that, baby, but I don’t need you spending that money. They’re harmless.”

Paige’s hand stilled against Azzi’s curls for a moment before she spoke. “They’re harmless until they aren’t, Az.” She exhaled, her other hand rubbing slow circles into Azzi’s back. “Most of my fans are the nicest people when we meet, but I do have some that are a little…overboard sometimes. And I don’t want you running into someone like that without somebody with you.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away, just pressed her face a little closer against Paige’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. “It just seems like so much.”

Paige gently cupped Azzi’s jaw, her thumb stroking just beneath her cheekbone as she guided her to meet her eyes. “I know and I’m sorry you gotta deal with all of this now,” she murmured, guilt laced in her tone.

Azzi leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s lips before whispering, “Don’t apologize for things you can’t control beautiful.”

Paige sighed into the kiss, her hold on Azzi tightening slightly, like she needed to keep her close. “You’re too good to me.”

Azzi smiled widely. “I know.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but the fondness never left her face. She tapped Azzi’s chin lightly before saying, “C’mere.” Azzi shifted so she was fully straddling over Paige, their faces inches apart. Paige ran her hands down Azzi’s sides, reveling in the way Azzi melted into her.

“You tryna butter me up so I forget about this whole security thing?” Azzi teased.

Paige grinned, shrugging slightly. “Is it working?”

Azzi pretended to think for a second before shaking her head. “Definitely not.”

Paige groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “Damn. Guess I gotta try harder.”

Azzi hummed in agreement as she leaned down to press a few kisses along Paige’s neck. A few seconds later they both heard the sound of little feet padding across the floor. They turned their heads to see Lukas standing in the doorway, his pajama shirt slipping off one shoulder, his hair sticking up in random directions.

“Lukas?” Azzi asked gently, already sitting up to slip off of Paige’s lap.

The little boy rubbed his eyes before looking at them, his voice small. “Can I sleep in here?”

Azzi’s heart softened and before she could even say anything, Paige was already sitting up and reaching her arms out. “C’mere, buddy.”

Lukas walked towards the bed climbing onto it and settling between them, snuggling up to Paige’s side as Azzi reached over to smooth his hair down. Paige caught Azzi’s eyes over Lukas’s head, her lips twitching into a smile.

“We’ll finish this later,” Paige whispered, and Azzi just shook her head, her own smile lingering as she pressed a kiss to Paige’s forehead before turning off the lights.

…

The next morning, the three of them were about to leave Paige’s house to take Lukas to play basketball before Paige’s game later. Paige’s keys jingled as they got ready to leave out the door. As soon as she swung the door open, a figure sitting on the stairs caught them all off guard.

The woman stood abruptly, her gaze snapping toward the three of them, like she wasn’t fully prepared to actually see them. Azzi froze, confused, as the woman’s presence seemed to take up the entire space. Paige’s face, however, was another story—every ounce of color draining from her face in an instant.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

444 notes · View notes

hotchnerwrites · 3 months ago

Note

hello this is my first time requesting so sorry if it’s bad😭😭😭. but i was thinking about maybe the reader having a hard day at work (she worked at the bau) and was kinda stress out so hotch sits her in between his legs and fingers her while whispering sweet nothings in her ear ???? i just need him to take care of me😩😩😩😩😩

Reckless

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW (18+), fingering, mirror sex, kind of established but hidden relationship, no use of (y/n), afab reader

A/N: Hi, hun, thank you so much for taking the chance on me and requesting, especially since this is your first time <3 It was a great request, and I love the idea! I'm kinda new to writing smut. It's definitely a learning curve for me, but I tried my best. I really hope you like this, and it's what you wanted!!! mwah mwah mwah, enjoy. And man, I want Aaron to talk me through it so bad 😩

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

You hate Denver.

It’s ridiculously hot. Not even the AC was helping. And to add fuel to the fire, the local sheriff was utterly incompetent. Not only had he lost half the physical evidence, but he was also getting in the way of the team’s job.

And just your luck— you’d been tasked with retrieving the evidence. In a desperate effort to escape from reality, you’d locked yourself in the evidence cabinet, hands still shaking from too much caffeine. You knew it couldn’t last forever, but even ten minutes away from the local police was solace.

For a while, the only noise in the room was the ruffle of papers as you dug through cardboard boxes desperately, wishing the documents would magically reappear. Mindless work, but it was grinding your gears, and you could feel yourself becoming more stressed by the minute. But you keep at it, hoping against hope.

Just as you begin to settle into your task, you hear the door creak open. Damn it.

You tense, hoping it’s not that damn sheriff again. You didn’t want to have to punch him in the face. But a familiar cologne of warm spice and amber crowds your space and the tension eases— Hotch.

Though you were grateful for his presence, the case, the pressure, the exhaustion— it had all built up to a breaking point. The last thing you wanted was to talk, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your chest. Hotch, always attuned to your mood, noticed how you seemed to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders right now. That’s why he’d followed you into the filing cabinet.

Wordlessly, he slides you a small piece of paper. Before you could open it, he places a soft kiss on your temple and leaves the way he came.

10 pm Knock thrice if you’re feeling reckless. Twice if you want me to behave. Either way, my door is always open. - A

You smile.

———

You lay spread-eagle on your bed, listening for the sound of doors closing. You wanted the team in bed before you went to Aaron. All but one door… and there it was. The last click. The coast was clear. You swing your legs off the bed. Exhaustion racks your frame, but your excitement masks the strain.

You slip out of your hotel room, gently drawing your door close. Aaron’s room is opposite yours— convenient. As you’re about to knock on his door, you hesitate for a second. Twice or thrice? But as the week you’ve had flashes in front of your eyes, your resolve hardens.

Tap-tap-tap.

The door swings open almost immediately. Chocolate brown eyes meet yours, and the day’s irritation melts away. Aaron takes you by the wrist, guiding you into the room gently. The warmth of his palm was comforting, a reassurance that you were safe, even when your mind was racing.

As you follow him, you take in the state of the room. Files are scattered across the desk. A few are marked with sticky notes, others open to pages filled with dense reports and scribbled annotations. A half-finished glass of bourbon is balanced precariously nearby, and his blazer is draped over the back of the chair. Aaron’s tie is missing, tossed in some dark corner.

A dry chuckle escapes you, “Good to see I’m not the only one going nuts from stress.”

He doesn’t respond, but the small quirk of his lips tells you he heard.

“Sit,” he instructed softly, pointing towards the edge of the bed. With a quiet exhale, you obey, letting yourself be steered. You didn’t want to think anymore. Your knees fall open as you settle in, tension roving through your muscles.

Hotch steps between your legs, presence steady and grounding. Without a word, he places his hands on your shoulders, expert thumbs kneading the knots there.

Slow. Deliberate.

You can’t help the groan that falls from your lips. It felt heavenly.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and soothing. “Take a deep breath for me.”

The rigidity in your neck eases slowly, and your breathing evens out. For the first time since landing in Denver, you let go.

But just as you begin to get comfortable under Aaron’s ministrations, he moves.

Not far, just enough to sink down on the mattress beside you. Before you could process his decision, his large paws envelop your waist. And he pulls— guiding you effortlessly into his lap.

A quiet gasp escaped you as you let yourself be gathered into his hold, your back pressing flush against his chest, his arms winding around your middle.

“Better?” he murmured against your hair, his lips barely brushing your temple.

You exhaled, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Better.”

“Let me take care of you tonight, honey,” he whispered, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

He wasn’t kidding about being reckless. You had never done this before on a case. Despite that, you nod eagerly. You needed this. And something told you that Aaron did, too.

He doesn’t waste any time. Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hands trail up your ribs, going all the way up under your shirt. The feeling of his fingers on your skin set your senses on fire. Heat blooms across your face and your head lolls back against his shoulders as he cups your tits, the rough pad of his thumbs flicking against your nipples. A low grunt from Aaron conveys that he’s grateful for your decision to forego a bra tonight.

Without warning, he pinches your right nipple. The sudden sensation catches you off guard, and you gasp, arching into his touch. He’s barely even started touching you, and you’re already losing it.

“The mirror,” he says suddenly.

The words cut through the haze of arousal settling on your brain. “What?”

“The mirror. Look at it.” You feel him indicate with a nod, and you blink, gaze shifting forward to land on the large mirror across from the bed—one of those standard hotel-room fixtures positioned perfectly to reflect the two of you.

What you see makes heat spread across your face. You, seated in Aaron’s lap, with his arms wrapped securely around your waist. Your face is flushed, and your nipples are pointed through the material of your shirt. Your jaw hangs slightly open, and you’re breathing audibly. You look utterly wanton and at Aaron’s mercy. With a start, you realise his shirt is rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms.

Just the way you like it.

And the way they strained as they caged you against him? Words couldn’t describe how badly you needed him right now. Sensing your desire, Aaron moves faster. In the blink of an eye, he pulls your thin shirt over your head and discards it, exposing your breasts. Large, calloused hands sweep across your body and whispered sighs fall from your mouth.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, desperate for his hands to graze you where you need him the most.

Through the mirror, you watch Aaron as he slowly mouths up your neck, settling on that soft spot behind your ears. Impatience takes over, and you grind into his lap, rubbing your pussy into his hardening crotch. You needed him inside you now, and you didn’t care whether it was his fingers or his cock.

“Patience,” he rasps into your ear, “Or I’m gonna go even slower.”

Your retort burns on your tongue, but before you can do anything about it, Aaron slides his hands under the waistband of your pants. He brushes his fingers gently over your abdomen, taking his sweet time.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good tonight, sweetheart,” he continues. His voice is unfairly composed. You have no idea how his brain is still functioning because yours certainly isn’t. All you can think about is the feeling of his thick fingers, preferably buried inside your cunt.

A prolonged moan slips out of you. You couldn’t give less of a damn about who heard right now.

“Aaron,” you plead, making eye contact through the mirror. He looks so pleased— like a cat that got the cream. And then, slowly— oh, so slowly—his fingers flit over where you needed him the mouth.

“I want you to keep your eyes on yourself, sweetheart,” Aaron commanded, his Unit Chief voice seeping out. “If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

Your breath hitches. You nod. Anything. Whatever he wanted, you’d give it to him. You just wanted him inside of you.

Aaron rolls your pants down in a deft movement, letting his palms rove over your stomach. Thankfully, he decides to put you out of your misery, and slides his fingers into your panties, groaning in your ear as it slips in oh so easily, creating a wet sound. The friction sends you to heaven, and you stretch your legs further apart, too far gone to be embarrassed by how you look in the mirror right now.

“My pretty girl,” he rasps, “You’ve been so good today.”

The praise has you whimpering and you grind down on his palm.

“Didn’t even complain,” Aaron grunts, hooking his fingers inside your gummy walls, “Such a good girl.” You whimper at his words and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. The way he’s scissoring his fingers in your cunt…

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re so wet for me right now.”

Aaron continues to slide his fingers in and out of you, ever so slowly but oh so perfectly. You bite your lips to contain the noises threatening to escape you, but when he grabs your tit, rolling a nipple between his fingers, your eyes slide shut, letting the sensations take over.

“I said,” he growls, punctuating his words with thrusts of his fingers, “Look. At. The Mirror.”

Your eyes fly open, and your hips jerk involuntarily, overwhelmed by the feel of his touch. Your body burns in pleasure, and his name falls from your lips, tangled with a soft moan.

“God, you feel so fucking good, honey,” Aaron groans, “I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re so wet. You’re doing so well, baby”

“Please, yes…” you whine back, body arching to beg for more. His fingers are dripping wet with your arousal and you watch them disappear repeatedly into your cunt, making damp sounds. You bite your lower lip to keep your impending orgasm at bay, but just then, Aaron circles your clit with the pad of his thumb.

The cry that leaves you only seems to incense Aaron. He’s fully hard by now, and you can feel his cock straining painfully against your ass. Pleasure clouds your brain, and you can’t do anything but take what he gives you and grind helplessly on his lap. Despite that, you don’t look away from the mirror, watching indulgently as you bounce on Aaron’s hand and he sucks light bruises into your neck.

Aaron keeps circling your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. The coil in your belly is tightening and you can barely even concentrate on the honeyed words he’s spilling in your ears. He continues to work you, pumping his fingers steadily into your pussy.

“Aaron, I wanna cum so bad,” you sob, hovering over the edge. The pleasure is spreading from your clit to the rest of your body, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispers, “Let go.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a massive wave, walls squeezing his fingers tightly. Aaron groans deeply in your ear as you ride out your pleasure, watching you through the mirror. He continues thrusting his fingers inside you, his other hand holding your waist tightly.

Tears prick your eyes, and your body shakes. You take time to come down from your high, but when you do, you can’t even remember why you’d been in such a shit mood today to start with.

Aaron gently brushes strands of hair away from your face, still whispering sweet nothings. His eyes were still dark with lust, but he was looking at you like you’d hung the moon. You lift a trembling hand and wrap your palm around his wrist. Not pushing or pulling, just holding on.

“There’s my girl,” Aaron smiles, holding you close. “Feel any better?”

“Much,” you admit.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, as he peppers your neck and shoulders with kisses.

“Hey, Aaron,” you start suddenly, “I think I know where the sheriff put the evidence.”

“What?” Aaron blinks at you, processing your words. Then, with an exasperated smirk, “You really know how to kill a mood, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

#criminal minds #hotchnerwritescm #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x f!reader #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #hotchner smut #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x you smut #hotch x you smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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chlmtsdoll · 4 months ago

Text

BORN TO BE SEEN

Timothée Chalamet x female reader

☆ summary: dating an A-list movie star isn’t cut out for everyone, your exhaustingly in love and devoted to Timothée — but with his full schedule of press, interviews, and events it’s a non stop challenge to get your man alone.

☆ word count: 7.7k

☆ warnings: 18 +, smut, teasing, edging, mostly exhibitionism, oral (m) reviving, lots of pda, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, heavy fluff, angst, obsession/worship

☆ A/N: I cannot believe this is my first ever Timmy fic after stanning him for years. I really let my fangirl flag fly so I hope this is well loved.

Part two 💋

There wasn’t anything but the landscape of a few stars scattered around the dark blues and grey of the night sky when your jet had finally landed. You hadn’t slept the whole flight. Not due to the anticipation of when you could finally lay eyes on your star boy after weeks of only getting as much as a couple late night calls and red carpet photos all over the internet from every journalist, high society article, or press outlet that could exist. You were proud. Maybe the proudest girlfriend out there, but there were times you could see how he fought the balance of it all not getting to his head.

The lights in the space that was exactly comforting to you were rising and you click your phone to check the time. Half after 3am.

You were tired, hell, only just pushing. But you couldn’t have been more awake with the adrenaline of getting your man for a whole three weeks that was starting to rush in.

“Okay, hotel is secured. They have your chauffeur waiting to take you straight there so you can rest, I’ll get your bags- -” your shared assistant that your boyfriend always kept around to take care of you when flying you out, was ready to go as she gently assured your stay. You already pictured it would be the most glamorous in-crowd hotel you could fathom. (Picked by him) you assumed there would be bodyguards with champagne even waiting for you outside this jet knowing your boyfriend.

But, you shook your head gently, with a smile. Already grabbing your designer purse to exit and get to fresh air finally. “No, no. I want to see him first.” You told your assistant and she only looked a tad stressed as she had already gotten out her phone to text a schedule change to the chauffeur.

“No problem, it’s already taken care of. I know he’s dying to see you.” Her voice had a flow of newfound tenderness to it — that made your blush heighten just a second before you and your bags were being escorted from the jet. Sure, there wasn’t a squander of sun out and lucky no paps to be found. But the moment your heel touched the gravel you pushed on your sunglasses (mainly to hide your tired eyes from your driver who was greeting you and taking your things in order.)

Scatter brained, you watched the lights of the new city you’d get used to for the next couple of weeks. Thinking and sorting out the plans you and your boyfriend would make in the wist of his tumultuous schedule. You knew he was a busy man. Maybe the busiest in the industry as we speak, all the promotion, press conferences and red carpets… with awards season creeping around the corner there was but so much time and attention he could give to you, his girl, in between.

The exhaustion, the flights back and forth. You did it all for him. And he made sure you’d be there to experience the bliss of having such a life so young. As much as possible.

His sweet reminders of just how much your hard working man adored you even through the chaos of it all. The world at his finger tips — you were always on his mind.

Even if the moments in between could be the sweetest you’d maybe ever experience, your love and his fame, it was a rollercoaster time to time. And the media wasn’t a first grade class, the pressure of it could be a thing of its own.

Everyone knew that you were the movie stars supporting and to put it as they say ‘almost annoyingly visually perfect’ girlfriend. They all were obsessed with the bond you shared. The it-couple factor you have. Your all too well, put together clothing that possessed the it-girl factor they all feed off of right beside your boyfriend. And you’d seen how his fans could nearly feel how obsessed with each other you are, through every snap of a camera shot that was published of the two of you.

And of course, that came with struggles, the public isn’t known for always being nice. But that’s what pushed the two of you even closer. He was there to protect you from it all, never making you feel like a burden in his limelight.

The idea of seeing him in just a few had your teeth bearing into your bottom lip, with a crooked smile and a soft squeeze to the hem of your skirt, you’d been pulling up to the dimly lit back entrance of the venue. You remembered him saying he’d be working late for a last minute photoshoot for his upcoming snl performance. He’s been over the moon about it and you hadn’t complained once every time you’d been a giggling mess when he’d run with his excitement of being back over the phone with you, no matter how late or early.

You missed him.

Before the driver could come to a halt, you’d already been grabbing your purse to jump out of the car.

“This way,” your assistant, right behind, had voiced to you — but as you go close to the door, the driver was peaking at your absence of the back seat.

“I can wait out here, ms. I know you had a long flight, there’s no problem.”

“Oh.. no, it’s fine, take a lap. I won’t be quick.” You flashed him a small thankful smile as your assistant braced your back gently to lead you inside the venue.

There wasn’t much to it. A long hallway, an elevator, and another long hallway. You knew he’d definitely not be expecting you to have came straight to see him, probably not wanting to bother you with texts thinking you’d be fast asleep under the warmth of luxury hotel sheets at this hour.

You hadn’t told him you landed anyways after all.

So you hoped the click of your heels against the floors as your assistant guided you to the back green rooms wouldn’t ruin the surprise.

Soon just hearing him made the tightness in your stomach come escalating when you sought out the sound of his voice. A few doors down. You could tell he’d been conversing in a way that he’d sure been smiling ear to ear. And your favorite tune there is, his follow up laughter that echoed as you got closer. Your favorite sound. Your obsession. Your home after another lonely flight.

There wasn’t another man out there like Timothee.

Stopping to watch him from the doorway first, your arms folded as your heart melted. You watch him take up the space in the room like second nature.

He’d been goofing around with his photographer Aidan. His hair an untamed state that looked dreamy as is, standing lean and stature in some ridiculously colorful outfit that he made look effortlessly cool. He moved his hands expressive as ever as he laughs in a humble tune. And his smile, oh, his smile in your opinion, could save lives if the right people were in charge.

Your assistant walked ahead, but Timothée hadn’t noticed you just yet — he’d been pretending to create some kind of silly music video with his photographer trailing around him, as undeniably impressed in a way you had no doubt was a reaction your boyfriend had no issue bringing out of anyone who’s around him. His fingers blaze through his hair quickly, trying his best not to laugh too much at his own radiance.

He was perfect like this. In his element. So beautiful in a star-like way that for a moment your smile was so large to the point your face began to hurt. You forgot you’re not just watching him on a tiny screen anymore — but right now. In real time. Your angel boy being right in front of you.

And then there’s something that shifts, after a mere few minutes of conversation, something in his expression notes he’s already aware of your presence, like he feels you there. When he does finally turns around, with that soft boyish grin creeping up on his lips, eyes full of something playful, and that damn charm — you barely have time to sink in how good he looks before,

“You came all this way just to stare ?”

You giggle out a soft squeal and there was not much to say before you were springing to be swept up in his arms. Heels once against the floor now being lifted as Timmy held you to him like it’s been more than a couple weeks, like centuries. Your lips mesh on instant, unhesitatingly taking it in with a little “mmm” of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and his grip around you was firm with warmth. He smirked into the kiss, you could feel it even with your eyes closed, the tickle of his mustache — new yet familiar, you let out giggles in between the perfectly timed and soft yet daring kisses he left that said ‘fuck I missed you.’

Days of distance melting away and the two of you were completely unbothered by anyone around watching, already swooning and playfully shaking their heads knowing the magnitude you shared as a couple. Even as your boyfriend set you back to your feet, you’d still been trying to grasps a leg around him, feel the roots of his hair through your fingers. And he couldn’t let up on you either as he kissed on your face till you were a mess of laughter.

It felt like highschool. Timmy’s team, his photographer, your assistants — they didn’t exist in your reality. It’s just you and him.

“I missed you.. what are you doing here, baby ? I thought you'd be at the suite by now,” Timothee voiced softly as he pushed a few of your locks out of your face to see you. Eyes sparking up at him like it was the first time. Your smile beaming, and you held his wrists.

“I couldn’t wait to see you.. I had to see you ! It’s been three weeks, Timmy.”

“I know,” He laughs and leaned in to peck your cheek, your hands ghost over his rhinestone necklace with admiration and your eyes inch down his body of intermixed clothing of colors and brands, you grin.

“This is.. a look.”

“You like ?” His grin was back and you bit your lip just enough to bring the pride to his expression. Your eyes flicker over his studded belt.

“You know I love everything on you,” Your voice was humming of flirtatious notes towards your man, you drape your arms over his shoulders again and Timothee managed to keep his cordial manner but slightly licked over his bottom lip and scanned just over your head to check for the attention of the room, and to your luck, his team members had gone about what they’d been doing before your arrival. So, Timothee’s hands gracefully on your waist, flow a bit lower as he kept you close and under the gaze of his hooded green eyes. You were stuck there.

His fingers graze over the tight fitted mini skirt you had been flaunting. A light grey cashmere. You could tell he was holding back from the three weeks weight of not being close enough to feel the heat of your skin — trying to fight it’s way through him. Your hands now gently drifting his arms and the look in your eyes stricken by the man you got to call yours, Timmy just pulled you a little closer so you’d been hovering his chest. And he’d been able to lower his voice to whisper in your ear,

"This skirt… how could I focus on work tonight, baby ?" He was trying to keep a normal embrace of you, but he’d had that sly look of course. His fingers brushing against your thigh again and he was massaging the right of your hip with tenderness — just enough to make you shiver and heave a small little gasp. Pulling back to look up at him with doting eyes and a small sideways smile of mischief on your lips.

“I just wanted to give you a little surprise,” Your tone sweet, but laced with a hidden, lustrous, message behind it you knew your boyfriend could only take in doses. He scoffed with a chuckle and looked over to a corner of the room, noticing the time had been slipping as you’d already stolen his attention from his shoot. Quite the distracting treat.

“Uh huh.. we’ll talk about it later..” he started and he leaned back in to leave another slow, tasteful and greedy kiss on your lips. It had you closing your eyes and lingering for more. “Go get some rest, chéri, I love you.” Timmy slowly inched away with a soft chuckle as your intertwined hands stay locked although drifted between the two of you for a moment. The firm grasp of just not wanting to let your boyfriend out of your reach consuming you while the playful pout-like smile you gave him was what had him probably now staying till around five am.

When your fingers do slip, and your dragging your feet to walk away, instead biting your lip like a love stuck school girl — you watch him part. With the same restraint and grin upon his lips as he mouths a little “go” to your gone essence. And you were holding down your miss, your need, your want for him and to stay in his world the entire ride to your suite. The ravishing room with a view of the city, towering buildings, an outlook from an enormous glass wall. It all made you feel a little less distant knowing you’d finally been in the same city as your man. That’s what you needed. Close enough to your Timothee. At least for you.

With a soft smile, your bags became your last priority when you dropped them to reach what was left on the king sized bed for you. Pink peonies and red roses. Your absolute favorite, left next to a box of laudrée macarons. Elegantly wrapped in ribbon.

Your heart was going mad. And your face flustered as you plopped on the bed to find the pint note left on top of the candy, “Un cadeau pour la femme que j’aime. Tu me manquais trop, bébé.” You read instantly with the sound of Timmy’s voice in mind, you were rubbing your bitten lip to hide your obvious blush from the empty room of course. A girlish titter leaving you as you lay back and stare over the sweet words your boyfriend had written.

It was things like this. Dating an international superstar could be a deal breaker for most, but you weren’t like most. And neither your boyfriend — he made you feel loved.

No matter how far.

So even being as hard to pin down as he was, between filming and touring, meetings and flights. When it came to you. He did whatever he could to make time.

Eventually, you had fallen asleep with a quarter of the box of chocolates gone delightfully, and sunken between the silk sheets as the low sunlight of the day crept in. You slept so heavily you didn’t even wake when Timothee snuck in somewhere between five thirty and six am. Probably only letting himself sleep for a few hours before he was up, dressed and ready — but not to start promotion or press.

“Mon amour..” you heard a tender note into your ear as you’d been half in a dream and also waking up, feeling a gentle kiss being left on your neck, and hands through your hair. “Baby.. -wake up.” You sigh a tired-some little hum before shifting from your side to your back. A sleepy grin takes upon your lips when you feel another kiss embrace your jaw. Soon opening your eyes to not just Timmy, but the keys to his BMW dangling from his fingers.

“Brian won’t be on my neck for a few hours.. wanna take her out to go shopping ?”

Something along the lines of a squeal and a yawn was your answer as you jump up from your comfort almost immediately. Not taking your time at all before you’d been out the door, Timothee hardly got any real free time away from his work and it wasn’t even a question that you’d take it for granted. A quick fur coat, your heels, and a mini skirt would do. It was a shock to you both how fast you were out that door, hand in hand of course, for the first time ever.

While your plans were to shop. Something the two of you shared an overwhelming desire and bond for, it couldn’t have been less about clothes and more about when you could get them off. Timothee eyeing through some Chanel sunglasses, and you on him, caressing your finger tips over the loops of his belt like the clock was ticking before he’d get a text or call from his manager.

It was excruciating but he showed less resistant than you expected. Leaning over tiers of shoes to kiss you, rest his hand on the small of your back, even grip your side time to time. Pulling you in close so he could whisper a “I see paps starting to line up outside.. let’s give them a show, yeah ?”

And that was like ecstasy for you. One thing you both were good at, was not minding a little attention from the cameras. So when you and your boyfriend had been with your purses, shoes, pretty patted wallets and all, you two went into pda overdrive.

It was between you and the check out counter who’d get to Timmy first. And had simply won.

Your man was reaching into his back pocket to pay. But you didn’t make it that easy as you’d been standing on your tip toes, leaving kisses, soft pecks and smooches all over his face. His lips and his collar. “Baby..” Timothee chuckled as you’d cupped his jaw. He’d lifted his chin playfully higher so you’d struggle to reach and he could attend to getting his credit card out. But that was the last thing on your mind when you couldn’t even get yourself off his sent now. So you only followed, reaching for his lips anyway,

“What ?” Your giggle is soft with your reply, hands lowering to his neck with a small sound of pleasure leaving you when your boyfriend couldn’t help but lean into your kiss unapologetically. Even as he had passed off his card to the the cashier behind you, whom was truly trying to look away from your affection on display.

But completely distracted and without a care of who’d been in there, even possibly a fan being at a lost for words of the actors drift right now — Timmy was too lost in you.

“You’re something else, you know that ?” the corner of his lips curled to a grin when his hands rested on your waist, you pulled back to look at him. Eyes staying on his sweet lips that were yours to tease only with a devious smile.

“You can’t tell me to put on a show and expect it not to be good…” you hum and your boyfriend was in a painful field not to let his fixation on you over take him. Making himself as collected as possible, take you by the hand, and your bags of course— out of there quickly. You titter as you trail behind him in that moment which was caught in hundreds of snaps from the paparazzi outside. It would be published everywhere in approximately twenty minutes.

"Did you have fun spending all my money, baby?"

Your smile achingly sweet. "Well.. you love spoiling me."

To which he chuckles and mutters, “how couldn’t I ?”

When you two got back to your hotel, standing in the elevator with the somberly slow pace it’s going, it’s light music being a bore when you’d rather hear your name being purred from Timmy’s lips, you needed to get him up to that suite immediately.

And to only make it tougher — Timothee was leaning against the elevator wall, eyes on you with that little grin. The one that made your body ache. The corner of your lips tugging on a smile and you’re trying not to look at him. You shift your weight on your heels. Gripping the ribbon handle of the bag holding the freshly bought designer accessories.

“Stop staring at me and pull up your pants.” You direct your need to be pushed against this elevator wall to teasing your man as your eyes flicker to his jeans that were sagging off of his ass.

He just smirked, and annoyingly tugged them down a little farther so you could see the hem of his Calvin Klines. “Ma chérie, you love it. C‘mon.” He beckoned and you breathed out some pent up air. Biting your lip.

“I do… I love that shit,” was mumbled from you, and your man heard with a cocky chuckle as he ran his tongue over his teeth and sure enough, he was backing you against the elevator wall.

A proud sense of glee was washing over as you’d claim to be a master at manifestation. How quickly Timmy’s hands find your hips, leaning down to put his mouth on to yours in a crash, like he’d been starving for this — because he has.

“You really did come all this way just to tease me.” your boyfriend’s voice sets lower, teasing, raw. You’re barely getting the chance to respond because he’s excellently taking away your ability too. You softly groan into the way his lips move on yours like a dream. One hand gripping your hip, the other tilting your chin up as he kisses you —deep, slow, like he’s savoring the taste. Your fingers tangle in his short curls, pulling just enough to make him groan.

"I missed you," you breathe between kisses that are growing sloppier, needier. More urgent as the floors escalate. And your risk driven man smiles against your mouth. "Yeah?" He feels out the metal handle bar against your back, hands trail lower, gripping your thighs, as if he’s about to lift you against the wall, you giggle into the urgent kisses.

Elevator sex ? Fuck yes.

Was your fantastical thought before you heard a ding.

The doors slide open and a stranger steps in. The core shatter of feeling Timothee pull back from you on instant washes over and completely fucks up your vibe.

His jaw clenched, and a wave of frustration hit as your face was burning as you adjusted your skirt.

Your terrified they could hear the way your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. And Timothee gives them a polite nod, solidifying his charm always. He stuffed into his pockets like you weren’t caught in an unseeable act at all.

The seconds stretch painfully.

Could the door just fucking open ?

You tap your foot. He sucks in his breath.

And when you shift, still feeling the faint touch of Timothee’s hands on you, you peak up at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

Finally another floor hits.

They step out and the second the doors close, your boyfriend has you against the wall. “I wasn’t done.” His tone deeper, haughty, as he now grabs your wrist. They’re above your head in no time and you gasp,

“Timmy-”

“Shh.”

He’s looking up at the numbers on the top of the confined space going once again painfully slow, the camera beside it — then he’s looking back down at you. Fuck it. He’s pressing his body against yours slow. Intertwining his fingers within yours at a toe curling pace. He’s trailing torturous, sweet kisses down your collarbone. Breathing on to your skin and suctioning his lips on a final place. You whimper something hard to tell. You let your eyes close and feel it. Feel his large hands, exploring and groping your body, your thighs, your ass. Moving you against that wall like a trophy. His lips move to over your chest where your cleavage is just perfectly on display. Licking over the top your breast, taking his time. Running you through.

Your watching. Watching carefully every ounce of longing over the last couple of weeks he’s putting into tasting you. Feeling his want and need as he just keeps getting lower. Pressing a kiss to your abdomen till he’s on his knees. Hiking your mini skirt up a little just for him to see. Carving your leg over his shoulder and kissing on your inner thighs with a soft hum,

“Timothee..” you pant as you view with hands going to his hair, running through his scalp and your skirt up just enough to see green orbs staring up at you as his lips grace your skin. With hunger, and a small grin on display. His lips kiss, peck and smooch on your thighs till he’s breathing out near the thin layer of fabric over your cunt. He pressed a careful kiss there,

He’s really going to tear into you in this fucking elevator.

But that came crashing down when the elevator dings again. And before you both can even think about getting your shit together, in walks Brian. Timothee’s manager. Someone who’s probably seen it all with him probably wasn’t prepared for was something like this.

He makes his presence known, “Seriously ?”

You were breathless as you gasps before covering your mouth. You hit Timothee in the shoulder who was gripping you and had no intention of stopping. Your face turned into the sun. You tried to fix your skirt that was slightly crooked, straightening up like you weren’t pinned against the wall about to get eaten out.

Brian was staring deadpan at Timothee who was reluctantly rising from his knees with more of a sense of frustration that he’d been interrupted from his girl over anything else. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. Timothee had a daring look on his face, like he didn’t care. “What ? She just got here.” He chuckled, unbothered. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Right,” his manager sighs, running a hand down his face. "And in five hours, you have a live audience watching you host SNL.“

Your heart has calmed down for once and you noticed your man most likely now laughing at your shaken appearance now, yet he’s still got his hands looped around your waist.

Brian just shakes head. "I don’t care what you do. Just... at least make it to rehearsal on time." Then he finally steps out of the elevator when the floor hits.

The second the doors shut again —

"How many more time you think we’ll get caught ?" Timmy is tugging you back in already, and you’re pushing him away with a bashful snicker.

“You’re crazy.”

☆

Due to your own gentle encouragement, and firmness to keep your clothes on — Timothee did end up making it to rehearsals on time. With as much energy it took to restrain yourself from making anymore risqué moves with your boyfriend, keeping your hands to yourself until after the show was necessity for such a huge night.

In all his greatest, you had no doubt he would blow the world away once again with his presence, his performance, his aura. It’s a feeling — the one where he doesn’t have to try to be amazing at everything he does.

So when your in a crowd of cheers, watching your man from side stage, overseeing him kill his opponents this awards season, the hug you had when meeting him back stage, was as authentic as could be. You threw your entire body into him the moment your bodyguards brought you back.

“You killed it, baby! You were amazing!” Your feet were off the floor again as he held you in his arms, his laughter closest to your ear, and the cast and crew around all came in hot with the excitement of the environment. You think back when you were out there, cheering for him. And his eyes matched yours for a moment, sparkle and all through the lights. A beam of ‘all for you’ like a subliminal message that only you caught.

He was setting you down with a brief kiss and you’d been smiling up at him after hanging on to it for a moment more.

“Are you ready to catch dinner with everyone? Change into that pretty dress we got earlier?” Timmy kissed your cheek with a grin, knowing you’d been thinking about that dress all day. Almost as much as him really.

“Wouldn’t you like a treat..”

“C’mon, don’t tease me. Where’s my reward for tonight ?”

Your eyes trail his figure with a little smirk, “Later.” You used his own game on him, and Timmy was putting his front back on not to draw attention to the way he’d ran a hand over his neck in primal repression, just before accepting your claim. He draped an arm over your shoulder, you blush.

Timothee got his team to take care of you as quick as possible. Not caring much for himself to do another outfit change when the ones he’s been in for back to back red carpet events were taking over every news outlet as we speak. His Yankees bomber jacket was his choice for the night. But you. You’d been dripping in drapes, rhinestones, and dollars by the time you’d been out of your suite again.

One thing about Timothee was that he was going to have you looking the prettiest, decked out for whatever event it was, on his arm. The Louboutins he gifted you the other night, along with simplistic jewelry that was not only blitzing with bling but had a message —

A chain around your neck with his initial.

So when he caught you in the suv to take you both to dinner, it was his unhinged jaw that did it for you.

“Holy fuck,” he didn’t even try to stutter when you sat extra close to him in that car. He kissed your shoulder. Diving in your florally vanilla sent.

Your smile proud, “this is all you, y’know.” You gesture to your dress, your diamonds, your Prada lipstick — but actually meaning all the heart you would put into being their for your man a million times again for what it’s worth. He was giving you a full dreamy grin as he looked over how chalant you’d been alongside his casualness. Reaching over to shut the door behind you, but getting extra close. So close his heat was emerged with yours, and his lips lingered your gloss for just a second.

And thank god the ride was short.

When you two got to the after party, it had been all flashes from the cameras the moment you stepped foot out of the car. So much so it was hard to see, hard to take shape of anything around you, but Timmy was the perfect gentleman — your hand locked in his as he lead you to your destination so you wouldn’t go blind by the lights. All those cameras, on him all the time. He was a pro at navigating it. So soon, the room was buzzing with nearly everyone currently relevant in Hollywood. Timothee effortlessly moving through the crowd, not giving quotes to reporters on purpose yet flashing that all knowing look.

All that as you we’re seated with him at a dimly lit table in the corner. Just how you liked, even with the chaos of all the stars around. His mind is completely on you.

Instead of sitting across, he’d moved his chair to sit right beside you. Taking your hand in his again and pressing it to his lips. After only an hour, when he’s sipping on a beverage and taking glimpses of you in, the way your dress sits and your collar bones look eloquently perfect. Your body was all he knew. They way you’d been playing with the ‘T’ chain around your neck, shining there with honor. All while you’re taking about him.

It makes him want to get you somewhere private and fast because you were unbearable (he’s terribly flattered).

“Oh my god,” you titter as you lift your phone that’s blowing up from messages from all your friends. Banging on about how iconic Timmy was tonight. “Everyone’s saying that Oscar is yours. And they’re totally right.”

He let’s out a humble chuckle and reaches out for his straw to stir around his drink, mumbling a soft “no, no.” He shakes his head, neat yet disheveled curls falling with.

“What do you mean no ? Yes !” You laugh more cordially so no cameras catch a bad shot of you looking insane.

Timothee gives you a fond smile, he watches your reaction to all his accomplishments and aways notices you might be a tad bit more excited — adorable and endearing, than he could ever imagine for himself. And you noticed that underneath his cool, the nervy jitter of his fingers would start up, so you set your phone down, you take his hand in yours, holding it under your chin with a sweet little smile.

“It’s already yours baby, you’re a prize.”

“You’re a prize,” he replied, green eyes never moving away from your shine.

You can’t help but blush, you were both so locked on one another. So into each other. Timmy let his thumb brush against your cheek, leaning in close and you felt a camera flash somewhere ahead of you — but it didn’t matter. You’re zoned in on the man beyond you.

“Can we get out of here ?” You suggested quite, but voice filled with a dazed kind of essence because your eyes flicker over his fit again. Saying so much without saying anything. He gets the hint and tenses up again.

“Are you suggesting we get away, mon belle?”

“Mhm” you nod as his thumb covers your bottom lip, almost slipping through before he catches himself in the act of being too taken by you. Your looking at him, pure yet seductive, and the corner of his lips curl upwards as he takes your breath away again in a gentle kiss. Before you knew it, Timmy was standing to his feet and taking both of your hands with him. He alerted Brian, his bodyguard and said his goodbyes to his peers before resting a hand on the deep of your back to meet your driver somewhere outside of the venue.

Of course, a hurd of fans, paparazzi and journalists all caught the two of you leaving that after party early and the sounds of screams mixed with paps trying to get to where your car was could be heard from the airport. Cameras were snapping photos of you, your glow, in the hard earned dazzle your boyfriend had been responsible for. And you had a polished expression. Waving to your audience, you didn’t mind at all having this dress in the press.

“Over here!” “Beautiful!” “Is that necklace in honor of your boyfriend?”

You were biting your lip and being an absolute doll for the paparazzi, giving a prideful beam over your shoulder at flashes — that being before Timothee took you by the hip. And pulled you into hiding with him in the car, you only giggled playfully when you’d been grabbed by him suddenly. He pretended to be annoyed by the paps asking him if he’d just talk about you. Even once, but, he held a small grin on his lips by the time you two were secured in the backseat of your ride. Because in the morning, you’d look stunning as ever. Posing for the cameras, hand in hand with him and it would be all over every social media platform in existence.

Everyone would go insane. His fans. The world. Obsessing over how you’d headed out early. Obsessed with how obsessed you were with one another.

Still on the high of his SNL performance, and the stride of his fame, with fans that were in tears as soon as he showed his face, paparazzi and people begging just to touch him. The chase and drive of award season and all, the praise, the status; you couldn’t have made the climax of his stardom feel like anything other than pure paradise. Solidifying his high paced lifestyle is all worth it when It’s only been a couple minutes since the driver pulled off, and you two had shut the window peek on sight.

the hum of the car engine was tough along the faint sound of people still screaming Timothée’s name in the distance while your all over him. Your glazed nails running down his chest, slow like you want to drive him insane. Your eyes were now dark, practically devouring him immediately. Your lips parted and meshing with his like you’d been starving. Timothee pulled you into his lap without anymore hesitation and you’d let out a little hum when the trace of his hands over your hips came in. Gripping on you like you’d get taken away if he didn’t grasp on long enough. Your hands go to his hair — Kissing deep, slow yet at a rushed pace, recklessly in that back seat.

Timmy’s Cartier ring, cold and sliding up your thigh, inching all over the way you sat on his lap and making sure to pull you in, keep you boarderline close. “Mmm.. mhm- -” was the only thing coming from you. Topping up so your knees were on the leather seats, on either side of his hips. And you deepen your smooches a little more and a soft groan comes from Timmy’s end. Your body drives him crazy. The way you arch your back ever so slightly. The way the fabric of your dress hugs your curves, clinging in all the right places.

And you’re flaunting it, teasing, and pushing on him. So he grips your ass with a little shake and you squeal with excitement. “I wish you could have seen yourself up there tonight. You looked- - fucking incredible.” You murmur against his skin, punctuating it with an open mouthed kiss.

Timothee smirks, “Yeah ? You liked that, huh ?”

“Yeah.. you’re so famous baby, and you work so hard. Everyone loves you.” You huff out a little sound, pressing your lips to the sharp line of his jaw, dragging your mouth against the slight scruff of his mustache, down to the heat of his neck. Your hands grazed there along with your kisses. “Never shave this okay ? It’s so hot.”

Timmy gives you that damn cocky grin, closing his eyes as he tilts back, giving you space to ruin him. “Mm, you're really gassin' me up right now.” His voice smug and heavy, hands ghosting over your inner thighs, daring to squeeze your ass some more which makes the dampness between your thighs rush in. You felt the stretch of his Adam’s apple along with a soft sigh that comes from his lips when you lick over his skin. His fingers tighten around your waist and he starts rocking you down against him and your eyes go intense and lost in his. His breath catches when your fingers only trace lower, teasing over his waistband.

You sincerely couldn’t sit with the temptation for another minute. So you lean up, find your balance within the bumpy ride pushing you only closer into your man, and speed to get his belt undone.

Just what he needs after all of it. The weeks that went by, the tiresome press and events. Alone with the love of his life, feeling him this way and getting him like this. That mix of devotion and sensuality. The voice of his girl right now, telling him everything he needs to hear “you’re taking home that Oscar, baby” — that’s exactly what he craves. You make him feral.

So as your eyes grow with hunger, your hands working quick to get his fly open and to embrace his boxers, sitting pretty with a nice tent. You’re watching the way he breathes when your fingers trace over his cock, teasing, hiking your dress up and getting on your knees in front of him.

There was only one way to finish what he started earlier.

Timothee stretched as much as he could in the fine spaced car as your nails trail the tops of his thighs and he’s man spreading for you. So heavenly, his jaw flexes,his eyes darkening in the low glow of the passing city lights.

He’s viewing you with so much hunger, lips parted, chest rising and falling as you sit up to tug his jeans farther away from his hips. “You gonna be good f’me ?” Timmy’s voice softened but assertive as he was already holding your chin in his grasps. Hooded eyes only on the beauty that you were as you’d been starring up at him, with a lust filled little smile and nod. Too sweet, too much for him to handle as your hands were doing a job of their own — reaching to stroke him once. Slow. Painfully slow. And as he curses, you try not to giggle but your lips grave the tip of his cock. Not looking away from his expression for a second as you let your tongue dart out to taste, lick a stripe on him dutifully.

Your boyfriends brows knit upwards and his tongue darts out to wet his lip as he watched you repeat that a couple more times. Then your mouth is on him completely,

“Oh.. shit,” one of his hands is reaching out to the arm rest across the seating, and the other going to search through your hair.

A low whimper could be heard from you as you didn’t hesitate to have your mouth filled with his dick the moment you’d fit him in. Sucking nice, then more brazen. Hallowing your cheeks and making him groan for it. You could hear his grunts, feel his veins pulse as you pick up the speed. And your sitting in your own pool uncomfortably when you let your hand glide and flow up his abdomen another time to grip his studded chain. Playing and toying with it as he moaned through the wet noises you made on him. You’re moving your mouth up and down on him in sequence with moans drawn out sharply as Timmy grips the back of your neck to move you how he wants.

Your hand was pumping him at the same time as he was dropping his head against the seat with a deep groan and you wish you could see it. Like all the tension, and the noise around Oscar’s buzz being washed away from him. He’s letting you take him away. “Fuck, you make me feel so good, pretty girl.” Although you were flattered, you couldn’t be more focused on trying to get him off. His skin just feeling right against your tongue and you only stop for air just to smile and calmly run your thumb over his tip with a sly grin. It makes him have to restrain from kicking the drivers seat ahead.

“Easy..” you murmur with a soft giggle as you watch your man fight it from above, sucking in his bottom lip and gripping his jeans as your hand jerks him clean. He was hissing a string of curses before you go back to licking and kissing on his shaft, moaning like you just needed to be fucked by the movie star right here. Right now.

And in all perfect timing, he pulls you off of him even as his cock twitched hungrily.

“Oh my god,” he huffs, chest rising and falling, “slide your panties down for me..”

Not only does your stomach drop, and heat flashes through your body like an electric current. You stop to take in Timmy’s disheveled state with utter contempt but urgency. Your image of a quicky in this car could go so many ways.

He’s amused at your hesitation. Even from the race of all day — trying to pin him down for this to be it. The fire throughout you was at an all time high. Timothee was getting you off the car floor and making sure you were properly on his lap again. “Now, chérie.” his voice a low, a commanding whisper, reminding you exactly the kind of night you were about to have.

So when you complied, taking part of the very thin panties you’d been wearing under your dress, and pulling them over your heat, it was just for him, as he leaned back and watched you move. Licking over his lip for a brief moment till you were bare.

That tiny obedient action drives him absolutely wild.

“Good girl, You’re always good for me.. yeah?” your boyfriend grins, hand going to your hips again and your now soaked cunt lingers right over his dick. Wanting, starving for you. And you feel it everywhere. Without him even being in, your legs go weak, your breath hitches, and his fingers are already toying with your folds as your nails prime his shoulder and you slip him a soft kiss that has you both moaning. Then again, yet this time his lips only skim the corner of your mouth, but he doesn’t kiss you.

He loves watching you fall apart first. Loves the anticipation. Loves knowing that you’d let him stretch you crazy right now.

You have a frustrated groan as your head releases. He huffs out a chuckle. Holding back from rewarding you for just another second, but it all came with the consequence of the car jerking to a stop. Easily throwing the two of you into each other.

Timothée blinks, his head dropping back against the seat, huffing dramatically. “Are you serious right now ?”

The driver tones in over the speaker. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Chalamet.”

Your boyfriend was breathless, at a loss for words and running his hands down his face. All you could do was shake your head with a light hearted chuckle and start fixing your dress.

“Hurry before you get recognized, Timmy.” Your tone sweet enough just to get him hard again, but vexing enough to piss him off farther.

He glares at you. Eyes still blown with need. But he kisses your neck, tender and poised anyways as he quickly buttons his jeans. “You’re gonna pay for this though.”

You both practically stumble out of the suv, Timothée tugs his hoodie up to avoid cameras, but your hands never leave each other.

And the second your through the lobby, past security, past the elevator doors, there’s no stopping again.

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet x female reader #timothee chalamet smut #fanfiction #fanfic moodboard #fanfic #movie star au #fame au #hollywood au #praiseandworship #praise k!nk #fluff #chlmtsdoll writes #celebrity au #celebrity fanfic #smut

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himbodruid · 3 months ago

Text

Neon Steam

Sylus x Reader

A new nightclub has opened up, and Tara drags you along for a fun-filled night. What you weren’t expecting was to run into Sylus there…

Sex is not described but heavily implied, so as a result;

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

Fully recommend listening to Young Medicine- Winter Soldier for this one, it’s the reason this fic happened lol

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°⭑ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩⭑

“Lets go dance!” Tara’s enthusiastic jumping did wonders to dispel the tension you felt about being in such a crowded place. Clubbing wasn’t really your thing, but Nightshade had just opened, and Tara wanted to check it out.

And that’s how you found yourself in the middle of the dance floor, people on every side of you, and tiny little Tara twirling in front of you while laughing. You let yourself feel the beat of the bassy electronic music, closing your eyes to the flashing neon lights and the fog-clouded lasers. You let yourself be lost to the crush, feeling the stress flowing from you with every beat drop.

A few songs in, Tara found herself a new dance partner of the male variety. You tried not to feel hurt at her abandonment, forcing your smile to relax as she turned to dance with him. She made sure to stay close, and even her partner had a mind to keep an eye on you. Others tried cutting into the space between you and her, but whoever you couldn’t sidestep, he managed to do so for your sake. All to keep you in close proximity of Tara, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this stranger.

A prickle of awareness came to you when a synth-filled song began. It was slower than the pounding bass of the previous songs, but something about it still made your heart thunder. Or maybe that was the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. People around you turned to glare when you stopped dancing, but you ignored them while turning in a circle, trying to find the source of this sudden awareness.

And then there he was. Towards the back of the club, standing and leaning against the bar in his riding leathers. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew Sylus’s gaze lingered on you. He brought his glass to his mouth, tossing back the shot without looking away. When he pushed off the bar and began making his way towards you, the crowd parted around him. It was as if they could feel the dangerous aura he exuded, an aura you’d once fell victim to when you first met him. An aura that now sent a thrill through you whenever you were in close proximity to him.

You heard Tara call for you, somewhere at the edge of your consciousness. Calling you back to her, confused and concerned by your sudden distraction. And yet, you continued forward, your eyes locked to his. Following his every move like a moth to a flame. Electricity crackled between you when you were finally within arm’s reach. That same electricity sizzling through you when his hand landed on your waist, pulling you close. Your hands flattened against his chest, sliding up to rest at the nape of his neck while he drew you into a sensuous swaying dance. Heat poured into you from him, from every point that your bodies touched. Focused on him, the crowd around you all but disappeared, just blending into the background with the metal synth mix of the music thrumming through your blood.

You were all too aware of how close his face hovered over yours, how his lips were just out of reach. Of how all you had to do was lift onto your toes and those damned cupid’s bow lips would be yours. When you forced your gaze away from his mouth for the millionth time, you found his eyes still locked on you. Those crimson pools, half lidded in a sultry stare that sent a bolt of desire straight to your core. It was all you could do not to climb him like a tree in the middle of the club.

Instead, you distracted yourself by moving one of your hands, bringing it around to cup the side of his face. He closed his eyes, turning his face into your touch. Heat seared through you, settling across your face as a blush. You were glad that the club was dark, save for the neon streams that flashed across the crowd, else you’d be lit up like a beacon from the inappropriate thoughts rolling through your head.

His lips found the palm of your hand, and then your wrist. Even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn’t, as his gloved hand came up to grasp yours, to keep it in place while he drifted kisses across your exposed skin. Nothing could distract you from zeroing in on the motion, could make you tear your eyes away from the way he nuzzled into your hand, not even your phone buzzing in your pocket every few seconds.

He was intoxicating. Or maybe that was earlier’s cocktails catching up to you…ah, no, it was definitely him. The way his full attention was on you, the way his body moved to the beat against yours, his breath fanning across your wrist. You drew in a shaky breath, the sound drawing Sylus’s attention. His gaze snapped back to yours, and for a beat you both stood still, staring. Questions briefly drifted through your mind, thoughts like why are you here, or how did you know I was here. But words were lost to you the moment you saw his eyes flick to your lips and back.

If this moment were in a film, you would have laughed at how cliché it was that the two main characters kissed the moment the music reached a crescendo. But you supposed that made you and Sylus cliché, since that’s exactly what happened. An explosion of sounds and sensations pulsed all around and inside you the moment his lips found yours.

It was a testing kind of kiss, unhurried and chaste. At least, that’s what it started out as. He pulled back barely an inch, and the expression he wore told you that he was just as intoxicated as you were- and not by the whiskey you tasted on his lips, either. With a groan you could barely hear over the din of the club, he crashed his mouth back into yours. Hunger and desire poured from him, drowning you in his very essence. The hand that cupped his cheek slipped upward, clinging to the nape of his neck. Your fingers filtered into his silky hair, tickled by the fine silvery strands.

Completely disregarding the crush, and the public nature of your display, he coaxed you open so he could tangle his tongue with yours. He devoured you, right there on the dance floor with writhing bodies swirling around you, and you were lost to him. Nothing else mattered except the man that held you tightly in his embrace. The two of you had danced around your attraction to each other for months leading up to this point, and you could almost taste the primal craving from him. It was wholly unplanned, but you knew you wouldn’t be going home alone. Even if it meant dragging Sylus- who was nearly two heads taller than you, and far bulkier- into your bed. Judging by the way his body pressed against yours, though, he was far from unwilling.

The spell was broken when a stray elbow collided with Sylus’s arm, knocking him into you. He steadied your stumbled step, circling his arms around your waist completely and sweeping you to the side. The elbow’s owner slurred a drunken apology before returning to their hapless twirling. Sylus turned his quirked brow to you, amusement dancing in his eyes with an unvoiced question. Electric tension still crackled between you, but the sudden reminder of where you were settled in with a dose of panic. The subtle clench of your jaw didn’t go unnoticed, and Sylus began to silently lead you from the dance floor. You took that moment to shoot Tara a text, not registering the messages she sent in the group chat with other friends from work.

I’m gonna head out, I’ll text you when I get home!

But you’d forget to text her, for a long while after leaving the club. The duration of the ride home on the back of Sylus’s monster of a bike, you were incapable of keeping your hands to yourself. You could feel his evol coiling around your wrists, tightening every time you made a deliberate pass at his groin. Adrenaline coursed through you, both from the ride and the game of cat-and-mouse you played with him.

And when you got home, none of the hunger he exhibited at Nightshade had abated. He devoured you the moment your door closed behind him, and you fell into him with equal fervor. Clothing was shed every step to your room while hands and mouths explored. You clung to him while he sent you to soaring heights, bodies colliding desperately with a cacophony of raised voices.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning when you finally thought to check your messages. Sylus lay behind you, crushing you to him while he snored softly against the back of your neck. You had been on the verge of following him into the realm of sleep, but that niggling guilt at forgetting about Tara roused you just enough to pick up your phone from the side table.

You opened the group chat to Tara, Simone, and two other women from the office shouting about you leaving with ‘some hottie’. When you scrolled up, you found that Tara had sent a handful of candid photos of you with Sylus amidst the crowd.

With your back to the camera, the photos showcased the expression that Sylus wore as he looked down at you. Hunger, adoration, and everything in between somehow showed in every micro-expression between each photo. And, damn, that kiss. Tara somehow framed it perfectly despite the crush, and you couldn’t help but to save it to your phone. Something inside you bloomed, a warm fuzzy feeling, and you snuggled further back into the warmth radiating from Sylus.

With a surge of boldness, you opened your front camera and snapped a quick photo. You made sure Sylus’s face was hidden, instead only showing your smile downward, with his sculpted arms wrapped tightly around your blanket-covered torso. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent the photo to the group chat and added a message that you knew would fuel the gossip fire.

Hey guys, sorry, got a little distracted with Skye. But I did make it home safe! See you Monday~

#lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads fic #love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #sylus fic #sylus x you #sylus smut #sylus x reader #lads smut #lads x reader #l&ds fic #l&ds x reader #sylus steam

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chaoticwriting · 6 months ago

Text

Part 1

Danny x Cass part 2

The silence is loud in the room. Everyone is staring at Danny with a few glares being straight up hostile. Danny gives the crowd a scan and realizes that the hostile intent comes from 3 figures.

The Batman

Nightwing

Robin

'Huh, that's less than I thought' He thinks to himself. Another figure catches his attention when he sees the guy swiftly typing something on his computer wrists and acting like nothing is happening.

Just as Danny is about to think about how to break this awkwardness, Superman flies to Danny and greets him.

"Errmm, hello. I am Superman. May we know what you mean when you say you are here to help?"

Danny looks confused at that question when his shirt is tugged by Cass. He looks down and Cass climbs his arm and whispers to his ears.

"I have not told them."

Cass then climbs down and happily stands besides Danny holding his hands. Danny can see Batman's mouth twitching at the sight. Danny just smiles wryly but doesn't release her hand.

"I am here to help you deal with Trigon and Darkseid. I have been requested to help all of you by my partner."

Superman looks unsure on what to do next as he looks at Batman for instructions. Superman also realizes that Batman seems to be in a more terrible mood than usual. Not stressed. Not fear. More like agitated and angry.

When he sees Batman not reacting, he turns to Wonder Woman to ask for help. Diana seeing one of her friends in need of help while the other is in another space all together decides to step up and control the situation.

"May I know is it Black Bat that invites you, Mr. Phantom?"

"Danny is fine. And yes, she invites me to help with the crisis. I am also here to meet some of you actually."

"May I know what we could help you with, Danny?"

"Of course. First and foremost, I would like to formally introduce myself. I am Danny Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realm, the Ancient of Space and the Protector of Balance."

As soon as Danny finishes his introduction, the magical heroes kneel down towards Danny.

"We deeply apologize for not properly greeting you, Your Majesty. We are truly grateful for your offer of help."

Captain Marvel leads as the rest of the heroes become baffled at their act. The rest of the heroes are also about to kneel when Danny speaks.

"Please get up everyone. And please call me Danny. I'm not really here for any official stuff. I only tell all of you my title so that we can skip the whole 'Who are you really?' part"

All the heroes stand back up and this time Danny doesn't let the awkward tension last in the air.

"I'm here today mostly because my partner here asks me for help. And while I am here someone asks me to pass something."

Suddenly, the space between Barry and Danny shortens, bringing Barry right in front of Danny. Danny summons a small parchment and hands it to Barry.

"This is for you Flash. This is a fine because you often mess with time and Time doesn't like it when you do."

Barry slowly takes the parchment and reads it. His eyes go wide but before he is about to protest, Danny shut him up by saying.

"If you are dissatisfied with the punishment, you may go talk to CW himself. I'm only here to pass his punishment to you."

Barry slumps his shoulders and goes back into the crowd. The heroes look concerned at Barry as it looks like he is about to cry.

Wally approaches him from behind and taps his shoulders. Barry turns to Wally with water about to burst out of his eyes.

"What happened? Is the punishment so bad? Can we do anything about it?" Wally asks concerned at the state his mentor is in.

"No. This is all my fault. It's because of the time traveling mess I did before this. Now I need to become a servant to Time or Clockwork in this case for 1000 years."

Wally and the other heroes around look very concerned at the statement because even for some of them, 1000 years is a long time.

"No worries, your punishment will only start after you pass away. And after your sentence is done, you can pass on to whatever afterlife you choose."

A sticky note appears out of thin air right in front of Barry just as he is really about to cry. He holds himself back and reads the sticky note carefully. Wally peeks from the side and also sees the content of the sticky note.

"Oh also, CW says to not mess around with time too much anymore. He says he is kind enough to not count all the time where it is technically not your fault but he did say that if you can bring him Reverse Flash he will lower your sentence."

Barry lit up at Danny's words like he just received a Christmas present. He swore to himself the next time he sees Thawne, that guy is not going anywhere.

All the other heroes look at the pair of Flash and decide to ask(interrogate) them later. Now, there is an interdimensional deity in front of them that may or may not be dating one of them.

"So, Danny. May I know how you can help us?" Diana asks carefully.

"I can help you deal with both Trigon and Darkseid. That's it really."

"Is there any price that we need to pay for your help?"

Diana's question alerts all the heroes as they now remember that the one standing in front of them is not just any other normal guy. He is an interdimensional deity and those things usually take something as payment whenever they are asked with something.

Danny looks thoughtful at the question and suddenly a smirk appears on his face. Cass knows what that smirk means. It usually appears whenever Danny decides to do something he deems funny. And his funny usually means chaos.

Batman stares intensely at Danny. He knows that smirk. That is the same smirk any of his kids do before they cause trouble. (I.e glitter bomb his batmobile and change his ring tone to symphony)

"Hmm, I don't really need anything from any of you. After all, I do wanna show a good impression on my future-in-law."

Pin drop silence. The heroes expected many types of responses from Danny. Some of them are even ready to swear eternal service or even their life. But whatever Danny just says certainly isn't one of them.

The silence is broken as a katana flies at high speed towards Danny.

"How dare you touch my sister?!" Shouted a tiny figure.

Danny catches the katana and puts it inside his treasury. He will enchant it later to give back to Robin. Cass says that Robin loves weapons.

Chaos ensues as Batman and Nightwing hold Robin while the rest of the heroes gossiping loudly. He could also see Spoiler just snickering while waving at them.

He sure loves chaos.

Part 3

#dead silent #danny x cass #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #danny phantom #heyImboredandIwanttowritethenextpart #batfam #batman #cassandra cain #probablywillrenamethetitle #part 2

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alotofpockets · 6 months ago

Text

Don't touch me | Alexia Putellas x Barca!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Don't touch me."

Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

Never before have you had a relationship that lasted more than three years. Three serious relationships in the past all ended right around the three year mark, always being ended by your partner with some lame excuse like it’s not you, it’s me.

The three year curse you had started calling it in your head, no one seemed to want you after three years. While it was probably all in your head and just some big coincidence, it still lingered in your mind every time you thought about the fact that your three year anniversary with Alexia was nearing.

You wanted Alexia to be the exception to “the curse” with every bone in your body, but you knew it wasn’t only up to you. Alexia had to keep wanting you, and at the moment it felt like she didn’t.

It seemed like she was getting distant with you. Almost every conversation she had with you was about football. While the sport was important to the both of you, and you took your jobs very seriously, you were afraid that it was starting to be the only thing that was keeping the two of you together right now.

At first you thought it was just the stress of the season. You were busy too with the intense training sessions and the games being so close together. But even on your days off, she seemed distracted. You had never seen her on her phone this much.

When you’d ask her about it, she’d shake it off with a simple, “Oh it’s nothing, cariño.” A small smile sent your way, before she’d dive into her texts again. Each moment was added to a rapidly expanding list of signs that Alexia didn’t want you anymore.

It was during a team party when all the things on your list started to come together. You hadn’t wanted to go to the party with your teammates and friends, but Alexia had insisted it would be good to be away from football for once. You had taken that as a sign in the right direction, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The party was loud, music and laughter filled the space. It wasn’t really your scene in the first place, but you knew a lot of the girls on the theme thrived in environments like this, so you went along with it.

With a drink in your hand, you were chatting with Ingrid and Frido. Your eyes searched the bar for Alexia, who said she was going to get a drink like twenty minutes ago. When you finally found her in the crowd, your blood ran cold.

She stood to the side with a girl you didn’t recognize. The way her face lit up as she spoke to the stranger made you realise that they knew each other. When Alexia leaned in to whisper something into the girl's ear, your stomach twisted.

You excused yourself from the girls and got up to go to the restroom. Once in the small space you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears were welling up in your eyes, as all the puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place.

The texts, distance, meetings outside of the regular football ones, and now watching her with this girl. She was seeing someone else? You’ve had shitty break-ups and stupid reasons as to why thrown to your face, but cheating? That was a new low.

How could she? All the hope you had left for your relationship to beat your three year curse flowed away with the water you let run down your hands. You splash your face with the tab water before you enter the bar again.

You wanted to go home, but you felt bad about just leaving, so you decided on just going back to Ingrid and Frido. That is until you saw that Alexia was walking towards you, “Hola cariño, I missed you.” She puts her arm around your shoulder but you’re quick to shake it off.

“Don’t touch me.” you say through gritted teeth. She moves her arm away quickly, but full of confusion. “What’s wrong?” You take a step back, “It’s fine, I just need some space.” Before Alexia could say anything, you had turned on your heels and ran out of the bar. You faintly heard her call after you, but you didn’t turn around.

You had called a cab and got them to drive you to your apartment to grab some clothes and gear you needed, and then drive you to your friend’s house. Luckily your friend didn’t ask too many questions when you showed up on their doorstep with a suitcase and a backpack slung over your shoulder. Your tear stained face combined with the time probably said enough. She simply stepped aside, offered you a hug, and said “Stay as long as you need.”

After slumping down on her couch, she let you be. Only coming back to offer you a pillow and some blankets. Grateful for her understanding, you got comfortable on her couch.

As comfortable as you could be while playing what happened at the bar over and over in your head. Alexia’s confused face when you pushed her away sent a pang of guilt to your chest, but you had to remind yourself that seeing her with that girl hurt you. You tried fighting back the tears, but they came anyway.

The next morning you wake up to a note saying your friend had left for work, but that you were free to stay and take whatever you needed from the fridge. You pick up your phone to check the time to see your phone bombarded with messages. Amongst a few of your teammates checking in on you since they didn’t see you leave the bar, you saw Alexia’s name pop up.

Alexia: Cariño, what’s going on?

Alexia: Please talk to me

Alexia: I don’t understand what happened. I am worried about you

Alexia: Please just let me know that you are somewhere safe

As much as she had hurt you, you couldn’t leave her messages unanswered.

You: I’m staying at Lauren’s. See you at practice

It felt weird texting her, and you were definitely not feeling up to seeing her. But you had a job to do, so you got ready for training nonetheless.

When you got to practice, you hid behind a fake smile. You sat down at your usual spot next to Alexia, to make sure nothing seemed off to the rest of the team, but you didn’t speak to her.

“Where did you go last night?” Ingrid asks from across the room.“Oh, my friend texted me with an emergency so I had to help her out, all good now though.” Everyone seemed to buy your lie, besides Alexia of course.

“Can we talk?” She whispered so that only you could hear her. “Later.” You said without making eye contact. Knowing that if you looked at her, you would break. You tie your laces and make your way over to the pitch without another word.

If anyone noticed the distance between you and Alexia, they didn’t say anything. You were keeping up your fake smile and tried to be as positive as you could, so no one would question you about something being up.

Alexia on the other hand seemed less composed. You felt her gaze on you during the whole training session. She seemed hesitant with her interactions, wanting to approach you, but not wanting to over step. Which clearly she had done yesterday, even if she hadn’t known what caused that.

The training session seemed to go on forever and Alexia’s eyes on you weren’t making it go by any quicker. Once the session finally came to an end, you quickly made your way over to get out of there as fast as you could, but Alexia sniffed out your plan quick enough to interfere.

She pulled you aside and kept walking away from the rest of the team. “Please can we talk now? If you need space, I will give you space, but I need to know what I did wrong.” You looked her in the eyes for the first time then and saw the hurt and vulnerability in them.

“Fine.” You sighed, and stopped so you could talk properly. “What happened last night?” Her voice was soft, like she was on the verge of breaking down. You crossed your arms over your chest, “You really don’t know?”

“Cariño, please. If I knew what happened, I wouldn’t have stayed up all night worrying about you.” Her lip quivered, but she continued. “One minute we are fine, and the next you’re pushing me away. I don’t know what happened, I don’t understand.”

“The girl.” You said bitterly. “The girl you were so cosy with at the bar is what happened. Who was she, Alexia?” Her brows furrowed, trying to figure out which girl you meant.

“Oh, cariño, no. That is not what you’re thinking. Lo siento, lo siento mucho.” Your arms were still crossed over your chest when Alexia took a small step towards you. “That was Maia, she’s been helping me plan a surprise for you.”

“A surprise for me?” Alexia nodded instantly. “Sí, para ti. For our anniversary.”

Tears started streaming down your face when it started to dawn on you. “The texts, and you being distant was all because you were planning a surprise?” Alexia nodded guiltily. “Sí cariño. But I am so sorry, I didn’t realise how it was looking from your end. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You finally uncrossed your arms and reached out for Alexia, who instantly pulled you in for a hug. “Lo siento.” She whispered into your ear over and over again as she held you close.

While the comfort of her embrace was perfect, you still had to talk about what was going on in your head. “Alexia, I-” You stepped out of her hold. “I’ve been so scared. You know how I’ve never had a relationship longer than three years?” She nodded.

“Well, when you were starting to get distant, I thought the stupid curse was back to ruin us.” Alexia shook her head and brought you in closer again. “Cariño, no. I love you, and I don’t care about some stupid curse. I want you now and forever.”

“But it felt like you didn’t want me anymore, like all we talked about was football. It was like there was no connection between us besides football.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. Alexia wiped it away instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was making you feel this way. I was so focussed on planning the perfect surprise that I forgot to show you how much you mean to me everyday.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, cariño?” You let her pull you back in for another hug. “For starters, let’s pick up my stuff from Lauren’s so I can come back home. And then I need us to communicate better, and be more present in our relationship, even when our mind is elsewhere.” Alexia nodded along, “I promise. I never want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” You pecked her lips softly. “Come on, let’s get changed and pick up your stuff.”

She takes your hand and walks you back towards the training facility. “So, a surprise?” Alexia smiled and nodded, “Yeah, but I can totally tell you everything about it, if that will make things better. Just say the word.” You squeeze her hand, “I think it can stay a surprise, just don’t go all distant again, please.”

She pulled your intertwined hands up to her lips and placed multiple kisses on the back of your hand, “Never again, cariño, never again.”

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#pockets 5k celebration #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barca women #fcbfemeni #fcb femení #espwnt #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #woso x reader

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weixuldo · 11 months ago

Text

A Champion's Game

timeskip!ushijima x f!reader

Wakatoshi claims a win for Japan in the 2021 Olympics and you are able to witness his greatness on and off the court (established relationship)

word count: 6274

cw: fem!reader, fingering, Oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, cursing, P in V, they're v horny, minors dni

A/N: to my regulars who r here for vader and ani content- im sorry- something possessed me to write this after seeing one too many volleyball ads on the Tokyo subway tvs haha- will get back to ani stat (next fic is alr in the drafts hehe)

______________________________________

A deafening slam rang through the Olympic stadium as one of Japan’s monster generation players dealt the final (and winning) blow.

The crowds were silent for a moment, taking in all that had happened- painstakingly long, intense rallies for God knows how long. Both the Argentinian and Japanese teams scored unbelievable points with both teams using their versatile and skilled players in just the right way.

The match was stressful and every player was wearing down by the end but in the last moments one player unexpectedly stepped up.

Ushijima Wakatoshi- a man of few words and even fewer mistakes- was the one that ended the match with one of his famous spikes.

The arena bursted into a thunderous applause as Ushijima’s feet landed back onto the court below him.

His chest heaved in exhaustion and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead- once he realized he secured an Olympic win for his team he threw his left fist into the air and yelled out in celebration as his teammates swarmed him in excitement. But his olive eyes darted toward the crowd in search for the very reason he was able to muster up the energy to score.

You.

You were sitting pretty close to the court as you were sitting with the families and special guests of the other players. Originally you weren’t going to make it to watch Ushijima at any of his Olympic matches- your job didn’t really allow for long periods of leave and earlier in the year you had taken time off to visit relatives.

So a few months back when Wakatoahi told you the match schedule, you sadly shook your head and told him you wouldn’t be able to make it. Of course he was a little upset but he understood that your career was as important to you as volleyball was to him.

He did well not to show you how much it upset him, but after dating the guy for years, you could tell he was down. And rightfully so- you wanted to be there for one of the most important matches of your boyfriend’s career.

So for the weeks leading up to the Olympics, you had sneakily been networking a way to be able to come- every night after Wakatoshi would fall asleep, you’d slip out of bed to make phone calls, send emails, and work overtime on some projects that needed to be done.

You weren’t even sure if all of the extra work would pay off to allow you to go, but you did it nonetheless- at least it gave you a chance.

It wasn’t until a whole week after you dropped Toshi off at the Airport with a deep kiss that you got the glorious email from your boss allowing you your time off.

You sped home and hopped onto your computer to book a flight; since there was so much air traffic due to the iconic sporting event there weren’t many tickets left, but you found one for the next day…

His last game.

The flight would get in right as the game started and after you factored in going through customs and getting a taxi there- it put you a little over the halfway mark; you reminded yourself that it was better to get there late then to not show up at all.

The whole flight you prayed that you wouldn’t be too late so once the plane docked you were sprinting to customs and ordering an Uber in line.

It had been a long 24 hours to say the least, but at least you made it.

And oh was it worth it.

Once you got to the stadium you had a little bit of trouble getting to the VIP/ Athlete reserved space but thankfully Iwaizumi was walking by and let you in.

“I didn’t expect to see you here” the spiky haired man chuckled as he gave you a quick hug.

“Ushiwaka has really been pouting about you not being able to come for weeks”

You blushed as you thought of your big strong boyfriend brooding in the corner at practices while everyone else raved about the upcoming games.

“Yea, I’m honestly surprised, myself. I really didn’t think my boss was gonna let up” you admitted as Iwazumi walked you to the reserved section.

“Well the match is pretty tight- but either way Wakatoshi will be thrilled to see you” he said before heading back to the coaches.

The section was filled with other players’ significant others, families, and even a few of the older ones’ kids.

You quickly recognized Bokuto’s sisters as they excitedly motioned you over to sit with them- the Bokuto’s were always so inviting.

The three of you caught up briefly before the game entered its final moments- you excused yourself and walked straight up to the barrier between your section and the court so you could watch more intently.

On the court, Ushijima felt his body wearing out- sure he was used to long matches but the stress and exhaustion of this match created was finally catching up to him. It wasn’t until he saw his excitable teammate look to the stands to wave at his sisters that he also spared a glance.

There was no reason for him to look at the section since he had no one to look for, but he thought seeing some familiar faces might give him more motivation.

He felt his heart skip a beat once his tired eyes landed on an all too familiar figure. No one would have known how excited he was because of his usual stoicism but once he demanded the next balls be sent to him his teammates all began to realize.

Bokuto was the first to notice your arrival because you were sitting with his sisters but once Hinata realized the reason for Ushiwaka’s reinvigorated spirit, he loudly let the rest of the team know that they needed to toss Ushijima the balls. It was no secret to his team that your boyfriend was enamored with you and would become even more focused when you were around.

Especially now, Wakatoshi was determined to win the match and show you just how hard he had been working recently, so he did just what he said he would.

He won the game.

And that’s where you were now, waiting in the stands with your hands over your heart as you watched your victor celebrate with his team before closing the game with the traditional respects to their competition.

As soon as he could break away from the team he was running towards the stands with a wide smile on his usually stoic face. You waited in electric anticipation as he crossed the court for you- his taught muscles pulling, his hair bouncing, his tight jersey… he looked so damn good.

Once he reached the barrier you leaned down and reached out to him. Breathlessly, he kissed the back of your hand and held it to his face, making your heart flutter.

“My Love”, his deep voice rang; raspy from hours of shouting.

“You came.”

If you weren’t his lover, you would have missed the slight glaze of his olive eyes, a sheen of emotion only you could evoke.

“I couldn’t miss it, Toshi” you smiled, making his heart race.

____________________

Ushijima had never rushed off a court so quickly; he almost seemed to teleport to the showers right after the match.

The media might have tried to dig up dramatic romance stories with Ushijima as the main star but there was no doubt that the silent opposite hitter was enraptured by you.

No media outlet could replicate the amount of love that spilled from the photos of your reunion outside the locker room.

He exited the lockers with the others, but immediately made a bee-line for you, pulling you into a warm embrace. Before you could even congratulate him, the brown-haired man had scooped you up into his strong arms and slotted his lips against yours.

You gasped against him but gave in nonetheless; the adrenaline must have really been pumping through his veins because he had never been so forward in public. Once he finally broke the passion fueled kiss, he kept a strong hand on the back of your head as he rested his forehead against yours.

He smelled of his timbery body wash and natural musk that you inhaled greedily, his olive eyes still shining brightly as you placed gentle hands on the sides of his face. You had never seen him so happy.

“You did so well, baby- I’m so proud of you” you smiled as you pressed another kiss to his curved lips.

He was just about to respond when he was cut short by an exaggerated wolf whistle from Atsumu Miya. Usually Ushijima would grumble out of annoyance when his eccentric teammates would begin their teasing, but he genuinely couldn’t care less today.

He gently placed you back onto your feet and returned to his normal stoic expression once his teammates approached; he readied himself for a bit of small talk with a large hand still snaked around your waist.

“Hey hey hey, You must be pretty damn proud of your wonder boy, huh?” Bokuto smiled from behind the blonde man.

“I definitely am, but I can’t say I’m surprised, '' you said before smiling up at him; Ushijima’s eyes had returned to their usual indifferent state, but softened ever so slightly when he looked down at you.

“He’s been practicing really hard”.

Ushijima did smile at that.

“But all of you guys did really well, I can tell that you’ve been working on your jumps, Hinata-san, your accuracy has improved a lot since the last match I saw you in Miya-san. Oh! And Bokuto-san- You always have so much power behind your spikes!” you smiled as the small group of guys in front of you basked in your compliments (especially Bokuto).

Hinata blushed at your compliments while Atsumu thanked you; Bokuto on the other hand was getting a little too excited- asking you about his performance and how it compared to others. His enthusiasm didn’t bother you since you had known Koutaro for years but the silent man behind you was becoming a bit peeved.

Wakatoshi wouldn’t consider himself a jealous individual, but when his teammates were in front of you basically basking in your sweet words (words that he wanted for himself) he was becoming impatient. In the midst of this conversation he realized that he didn’t even know how long you’d be able to stay since your work was so stingy- then he really wanted to go.

He wanted to celebrate this victory with you, savor your company, make love to you. Basically anything but still be here.

Ushijima was about to excuse the two of you when the other teammates came out of the lockers and friends, family and press came from the other side. Soon he was separated from you and flooded with congratulations and compliments from not only his teammates and their families but also people he didn’t even know began shoving microphones and cameras in his face. In the midst of his excitement and adrenaline, he completely forgot about the post game panel he was definitely going to be asked to be on. He clenched his jaw and calculated how quickly he would be able to get it over with.

You didn’t mind waiting for him, after all this was his big day and he deserved all of the recognition he got, but you did know that he wasn’t the biggest fan of all of the fanfare. Once he was rushed into the after-game panel (which you also forgot about), you waited on the sidelines with the other teammates to watch.

“So Ushijima, we saw you wearing down about ¾ of the way into the match but then at the very end you seemed to perk right up, hitting point after point! What reinvigorated you that late into the game?” a tall reporter with tortoise shell glasses asked.

The cameras were on Ushijima again; he sat up straight and nodded before pulling the mic closer; soon, his deep voice rang through the speaker system.

“Someone very important to me showed up unexpectedly.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his blunt response; the media always tried to get headline interviews with him but he really just wasn’t much of a talker.

“Any elaboration?” the interviewer almost begged.

Ushijima thought for a moment before shaking his head, “None. That is what happened”.

Defeated, the interviewer moved on to the next reporter’s question.

Once the panel concluded, Wakatoshi really just wanted to find you and go to his hotel but when he exited the room he was met with a lobby full of people eager to converse. He was running out of energy (energy he wanted to save for you).

Ushijima sighed when he finally spotted you across the room talking to Bokuto and his black haired friend from highschool… What was his name again?

Nevermind. He needed to be alone with you.

As he approached the three of you he finally heard your sweet voice.

“Ahhh I’ve heard great things about that shonen! How do you like-”

Your eyes widened when you felt the familiar sensation of your boyfriend’s strong arm pulling you close to his chest.

“Toshi! There you are!” you squealed, squeezing his forearm.

“I was just asking Bokuto-san if he had seen you when Akaashi showed up! You remember Akaashi-san right? He was the setter for our highschool’s volleyball team when we were all at Fukurodani!” you smiled.

Oh, yes- Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto’s boyfriend.

Ushijima gave the other silent man a curt nod, “Hope life has been treating you well, Akaashi.”

“It has, I see you have been doing well too. Congratulations by the way- you really are amazing on the court” Akaashi said before the other volleyball player began to pout.

“Babe, you still think I’m just as amazing right?” Bokuto whined. Akaashi playfully rolled his eyes before turning to the buff man beside him.

You watched the pair for a moment before you felt Ushijima tighten his grip around your waist- you knew his social battery was running out and that he was getting overstimulated. You turned towards him to see his pupils begin to dilate at your sudden attention.

You brushed his cheek with your soft palm before pressing a tender kiss to his chest, “I know baby, we’ll leave right after this”.

Ushijima hummed in response, he loved how well you could read him. He spent most of his life being misunderstood and making matters worse when he tried to explain; but it was just like a whole different world when it came to you.

You exaggeratedly looked down at your watch before announcing that you didn’t know how late it had gotten. You bid the couple farewell before your boyfriend trailed you towards the private exit.

He took your black backpack from you and slung it over his shoulder and held your purse with his free hand; he was always so thoughtful.

Ushijima scanned the area to make sure there would be no more unwanted attention to disturb you and him; once he concluded you were in the clear he bent down to press a kiss to your temple as he gently held your head closer to his lips.

“I’ve missed you so much, My love” he sighed into your soft floral-scented hair.

“Where’s your suitcase?” Ushijima stopped to ask before exiting the facility.

“I just have my backpack and purse” you shyly smiled hoping your routine oriented boyfriend wouldn’t scold you for forgetting the necessities.

But much to your surprise he just nodded, “No problem, I’ll take you shopping later”.

God, sometimes you forgot your boyfriend was a world famous athlete (with a world famous salary).

Once you reached his private car, he tossed your bag in the back before opening the car door for you. His warm hand rested itself on your thigh once he was situated next to you in the black leather seat. The driver paid no heed to you and Wakatoshi as he kept his trained eyes on the busy street in front of him.

With the hotel so close in reach, Wakatoshi felt his excitement (and something else) growing once more- now that he was away from the crowds and with you.

Ushijima hadn’t even imagined how after the game would go if you were here because he was so sure you’d miss it. He supposed that he would just go back to his room, call you and then go to sleep, but now that you were here, he had no plan at all.

All he knew was that your thighs were tensing with every brush of his hand and your nicely manicured nails were subtly clawing at his bicep. He hesitated before looking towards you because he knew exactly what expression was on your pretty little face and he didn’t know if he had enough self control left to hold himself back.

Like the answer to a prayer the driver pulled into the circle of the hotel the athletes were staying in- Ushijima thanked the man and helped you out of the car before discreetly tucking his growing length into his waistband.

You barely had time to marvel at the fancy hotel before your eager boyfriend was ushering you into the elegant elevator. He pressed the 11th floor and took his place by your side; of course he was eager, but he still had the decency to not go too wild with the risk of being caught.

He snaked an arm around your waist and gave your ass a tight squeeze as he exhaled shakily. The elevator dinged and soon you were at your floor- Ushijima basically carried you to the room, key card ready to open the heavy wooden door. Once inside he shut the door and turned to you with open arms; you knew what he wanted and gladly complied.

You jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist as he ran his desperate hands up and down your body. He hungrily kissed you while you raked your fingers through his hair.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Toshi” you breathed into his kiss making him weak in the knees.

Wakatoshi took a moment to admire your flushed face and all at once he felt his high returning to him. His team just won their final Olympic match. He scored the last winning points. You were there and witnessed the whole thing.

You were here.

He just won an Olympic match.

Nothing could bring him down right now.

He was brought out of his hazy thoughts once you began grinding your hips against his. He drew his brows together and groaned as you drug your manicured nails across his broad shoulders.

Soon he had you caged under his expansive figure; lying on the plush comforter of the large king bed, you relished the overwhelming heat radiating off of your boyfriend’s large frame.

Ushijima felt every muscle in his tired body begin to tense as your burning touch traveled the expanse of his sculpted body.

“Missed you so much” he panted into the side of your neck between greedy kisses and bites.

His light brown hair was soft between your fingers as you lightly tugged the loose strands. He moved his attention to your clothed breasts as he pawed at the soft mounds through your tight shirt.

“I can see that” you giggled as you lightly caressed the underside of his thick cock through his sweats.

“But respectfully, Toshi- I think I missed you more” you said with a slight smirk as you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him down onto you so that his bulge was flush against your pulsing core.

His eyes shut and he breathed out a small “shit…” as your skilled fingers worked to undo his bottoms. As soon as the tie was undone he was quick to shove the pants down.

Your breath caught in your throat as you clearly saw his thick long cock straining against the stretchy fabric of his boxer briefs. God how was Wakatoshi even real?

Before you could finish drooling over the sight of his massive bulge, he had your bottoms off too. You had worn a matching set because you knew that no matter which way the game went, you’d still be seeing your lover today. Funny thing was that the match was so early that it was barely noon and you were already getting to it.

Wakatoshi sat back on his haunches and just admired the sight before him. The large man’s chest heaved as he watched the damp spot on your panties begin to widen with every passing moment. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he looked concerned, but you knew he was just taking everything in.

“Baby…” you cooed as you slowly sat up to meet his eyes.

He quickly snapped out of his daze and tightly grabbed your hips; he kneaded at the flesh slowly but sensually, slightly running his callused hands up your waist. You couldn’t help but moan as one of his long fingers ran under the waistband of your panties, just to pull it back so it snapped you harshly.

You yelped and squeezed your thighs closer together making Wakatoshi groan.

“Take your top off.” your stoic boyfriend demanded in his usual flat tone, as if he were asking you to pass the TV remote.

You bit your lip at the sound of his deep voice and quickly discarded the top. Your plump breasts were now on display for him to enjoy, though they were still being cradled by your fancy bra. A bra that was part of a special set Toshi bought you for your most recent anniversary- you really knew just how to drive him crazy.

He leaned back down so that he was hovering above you as he slowly began to suck the exposed region of your left tit. You breathed his name so naturally as he skillfully unclasped and removed the tiny garment.

“No fair~ I wanna see you too” you fake pouted as you tugged on the bottom of his shirt, to which he responded with a grunt of acknowledgement.

Soon he was pulling off his tight white shirt in a swift motion over his head, before tossing it into the growing pile of discarded clothes. You were quick to run your nails down his tight chest with a glint of mischief in your eyes, “much better”.

Wakatoshi dawned a rare smirk and shook his head, “you’re such a needy girl, aren't you”.

With an innocent smile you nodded your head and batted your pretty lashes, “Jus’ want you Toshi”.

He exhaled through his nose and eagerly attached his lips to the soft skin down the column of your throat making you gasp.

“Baby- don’t bite too hard, what if we have to go out later” you exclaimed, thinking about how the team might want to celebrate their victory later.

Your boyfriend mumbled something into your neck before moving down to your breasts, he licked the sensitive buds before sloppily taking a tit into his mouth and palming the other with his strong left hand.

His attention had you squirming under his hold, arching your back unintentionally. Wakatoshi could read your signals like no other, so he took the opportunity to snake his free hand around your waist and pull your hips closer to his throbbing dick. He was slick with pre already but didn’t want to give into his urges just yet; he needed to pleasure you first.

Soon his kisses moved southward; eventually he had your panties in between his pearly teeth and he slid them down your smooth legs. You groaned as the cool hotel air hit your core and your hand immediately grasped Wakatoshi’s bicep.

Wakatoshi felt an unbelievable wave of lust take him over as soon as he laid eyes on your pretty pussy. His dick twitched and he gave an experimental lick to your dripping core; he held an iron grip on your thighs as he shoved his whole face into you.

You moaned at the feeling of his straight nose bumping against your sensitive bud and skilled mouth lapping up your juices.

Wakatoshi’s arousal pooled in his stomach as he slid his tongue between your folds collecting your essence. He devoured you as if he were a man starved; grinding his hips into the mattress below him every once in a while to release some of his building tension.

Ushijima was a simple man with simple pleasures and nothing- nothing-in the world made him happier than pleasuring you. It was pornographic the way he buried himself into your dripping core, grunting against you everytime you squeezed your thighs around his head.

“Mmph- T-Toshi, feels soo good” you moaned as you squeezed your eyes shut and tugged at his hair.

Your praise earned you a deep groan from your boyfriend who swiftly inserted two digits into your slick hole in hopes of more blissful reactions. His cock throbbed as you swiveled your hips so that his fingers reached deeper into you.

“Gonna- gonna cum baby- Toshi aahh” you squealed as you came around your boyfriend's thick fingers.

Wakatoshi moaned as he happily lapped up your juices and clamped your thighs in his iron grip. Your body shivered with the echoes of your orgasm and before you could catch your breath you felt the warm lips of your boyfriend slotting against yours.

“You taste amazing, My Love” your hulking boyfriend groaned against your lips.

You clawed at his broad back before he rose to his knees to take in the view of your flushed face and marked body under him.

yYour lust returned all at once when you laid eyes on his painfully hard cock; it was so heavy that it was struggling to stand up, thick veins bulging with every subtle movement, dark tip and angry red just dribbling with pre-cum.

You salivated as you observed the twitch of his large, circular balls each time you raked a nail down his meaty thigh. You needed to please him- you eagerly sat up and took a seat on your knees, face to face with his angry cock.

Ushijima wasn’t naive, he knew what that position entailed, but he couldn’t help but lightly tease you, “What're you doing, Honey?” his low voice grumbled.

“Just giving my Olympic victor a proper reward- is that alright with you?” you shyly smiled, batting your lashes at the man towering above you.

Wakatoshi was at a loss for words as you kitten licked his sensitive tip before pressing a trail of burning kisses along his shaft, and finally lightly suckling his aching balls. Without warning, you returned to the main event and swallowed him down in one swift gulp.

A guttural moan ripped its way from your boyfriend's throat as he balled his fists.

Wakatoshi felt lightheaded as he took in the sight before him; the love of his life sitting on her knees before him, praising him for his victory- sweet lips usually reserved for tender kisses, making a mess of his throbbing cock.

You had been with Wakatoshi long enough to know just how to rile him up; there was one vein in particular that ran up the bottom of his shaft to wrap around the left side that always throbbed the hardest. Initially you lightly followed it with the tip of your tongue to get his breath to hitch.

“Baby~” he exhaled in a low groan as you gently squeezed his sensitive balls with your dominant hand.

The vibrations of your moans and whimpers on his cock shot straight up his spine making him lurch forward and grip the mahogany headboard of the hotel bed. His wrists shook as he leaned over your back and bowed his head, getting a perfect view of your arched back as you continued swallowing his length greedily.

He groaned with a low rumble at the sight; placing a large hand over his face and slowly dragging it down until it only covered his mouth. God- the image of you on your knees for him was enough to make him cum right then and there.

But no. He needed to hold it a little longer.

The enticing globes of your ass jiggled as your thighs clenched together in anticipation; so how could Wakatoshi not land a hard smack on your ass?

You whined on his dick and felt his tip strike the back of your throat suddenly, making you gag a little. Ushijima couldn't help the smirk that landed itself onto his flushed face. He settled his left hand tightly around the base of your throat as you pulled yourself off of his pulsing cock with a loud pop.

Before you could realize what he was doing, Wakatoshi pulled you into a deep and messy kiss- not many men would want to taste themselves on your lips, but Ushijima always thought that was trivial. He loved you and all you did and had been doing was for him- why would he not kiss you?

As he pulled you closer, you reached back in between his thighs to grip his meaty cock to continue your previous agenda.

“Feels so good~” the low timbre of his voice shot straight to your core as he praised you against your lips.

“Mhmm, does it Toshi?”

He nodded before tensing and gently shoving you onto your back against the stack of pillows at the head of the bed. You landed lightly with surprise at the sudden movement; what was that for?

Your questions were answered as you observed your boyfriend sit back onto his heels with a pained and concentrated expression. His breaths were shaky and shallow as he fought the urge to cum; he gripped the sheets for a few seconds before slowly releasing the cloth once the feeling subsided.

You giggled at his state- “What’s goin on baby?” you teased.

“Need to be in you. Now.” he stated with a demanding tone as his olive eyes shot open- pupils almost completely dilated.

Instead of verbally answering you pounced onto him and wrapped your arms around his neck as you slotted your tongue against his, panting with each brush for his strong hands.

“Shit babe- Let me go get a condom” Wakatoshi groaned as you began to pump his cock again.

He gently released his grasp on you and started for his bag when you called out a pathetic “wait”.

He immediately turned to you, brow slightly raised; “What is it my Love?”.

“D’ya wanna do it raw?” you shyly asked, plating with the rings on your manicured fingers.

Ushijima thought he must have been dreaming, “Pardon?”.

“Do you want to fuck me raw, Wakatoshi” you stated with much more confidence, as you caressed your breasts for his viewing pleasure.

Your words went straight to his dick because a thick gush of pre came dribbling out of his sensitive slit. Something in him snapped and he succumbed to his animalistic desires; before you knew it he was balls deep in your tight pussy, thrusting in and out with all of his might.

No matter how many times you had him, Wakatoshi’s size was always an adjustment; he was just so big, so thick, so heavy. It was always a feat to stretch out enough to accommodate his sheer girth, but you did it everytime without fail. And without fail, everytime felt like it was the first time he was fucking your tight cunt.

Ushijima’s grip on you was sure to leave bruises tomorrow, but today- you give any fucks, you just needed him to keep hitting that spot deep inside of you- that spot no one else could reach.

“F-Fuck Toshi!! t’s soo good- Oh my Godd” you moaned as your eyes rolled back.

“S’ tight for me- gripping on me so tight” Wakatoshi grunted as he struggled to pull himself back; your greedy cunt just sucked him in too far.

“You liked watching me play today, huh?” he huffed as he slowly pulled himself out so that only his tip was left inside.

“Y-You're my champion baby- s’ proud of you'' you nodded as you clawed at his biceps.

He smirked and sank back into your warm, perfectly molded pussy with a guttural moan- “It was all for you, My Love. A-all f’ you” he promised into your ear as he resumed his earlier pace.

“I-I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum Toshi! Oh fuck! shit-” you started stammering once he snaked his skilled fingers down towards your clit while still mercilessly thrusting in and out of your messied hole.

Wakatoshi’s thighs began to tremble and he knew he was at the end of his rope; he was pushed further once your walls began fluttering and clenching around him from your orgasm.

You came with his name on your tongue and arms around his neck as you pulled him flush against you. Nothing felt better than this- Wakatoshi couldn’t handle it anymore and wrapped his strong arms around you and began wildly bucking his hips into your tired cunt as you squealed into his neck and held on for dear life.

He became sloppy as he felt his heavy, sensitive balls began drawing up in anticipation; “My L-Love, I’m going to cum- fuck- I’m cumming- I-I’m cumming” Wakatoshi moaned into your ear as he tried to pull himself out of the tight grip your pretty pussy had on him but for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t quick enough. Soon he was babbling apologies as he spilled his warm seed into your fucked out pussy.

“I’m sorry, I-I couldn’t pull out. I’m so sorry” he wailed as his hips continued to involuntarily buck up with the remnants of his orgasm passing through.

“It’s ok Toshi- It’s ok, feels so good- so warm” you babbled as your exhaustion took hold.

He took a minute to catch his breath before gently pulling out of you; he cringed as his sensitive dick finally exited your warmth. Once he was out you whimpered a bit at the empty feeling before you felt him begging to clean you up with a towel.

“I hope I wasn’t too rough, Dear- I’m sorry” he said, gently wiping his spend off of you.

“No no- It’s ok Toshi, I liked it” you sleepily smiled.

Once his worries subsided, Wakatoshi pressed gentle kisses to your peaceful face.

“Thank you, My Love- thank you for everything” he said softly.

You only hummed in response and waited patiently for him to return to your side. Tiredly, you turned over to rest your cheek on Wakatoshi’s large chest but as soon as you laid down his phone began to buzz crazily. You knew he didn’t have notifications on for anything except messages and emails so that definitely had to eb the Olympic group chat.

He was about to silence his phone when you asked him what the boys were talking about. You smiled to yourself as you watched your boyfriend’s face return to its usual neutral scowl while he read the flood of texts.

“They want to go out tonight to celebrate.” he said with no detectable emotion.

“Oh that's fun! What are you going to wear?” you asked eagerly, wondering what fit he would choose tonight.

But instead of answering he just quirked a brow, “What do you mean? I’m not going.”

You shot up in shock with an exaggerated gasp, “Not going?! Toshi you just won your Olympic match and you aren’t going to celebrate with your team?!”.

“No. You are here and I want to spend time with you.” he stated very matter-of-factly.

“Baby. I love you and I think it’s so sweet that you want to spend time with me- but you HAVE to go out” you whined pawed at his tight pecs.

“But-” he began.

“But nothing! You earned that win and you deserve to celebrate”.

He sat silently for a moment, mulling over how to get you to let off a little, he just wanted to spend time with you.

“They want to go out tonight but it’s already 5 pm” he said.

Now it was your turn to think.

“Ok, tell you what- how about I go with you and we take five minutes to chill, take a shower and then take a nap until we have to get ready to go out. We were probably going to get a few drinks tonight anyways, right? And this way you have an out if the party is getting too hectic- you can just say I flew in late and am sleepy. How does that sound?”

That was a solid plan, how could he say no to that? He hummed in agreement before placing his phone back down, drawing you close, and shutting his eyes for a moment.

Ever since you entered his life the year after your high school graduations, everything in his life shifted. The immovable force that ran his life- the force so trained on volleyball and success was suddenly derailed ever so slightly. Now there was you; with your random interests, your beautiful smile, your tenderness, your heart. And suddenly life had more meaning; he had a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to get better, a reason to work on aspects of himself outside of his athletic performance.

A reason to love.

______________________

Hello haikyuu fans who gave me a chance :) I mainly write Star Wars content but ngl being in Tokyo has made me get back into haikyuu lol- little secret I had a “secret” 10k plus anime tiktok acc back when anime tok was trendy in 2020- but dw I wasn’t one of those fans haha// toshi has always been my #1 animated man

Thx for @toshisdecadence for getting me inspired to finally write for toshi :?

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