#even if i wake up once or twice i can roll over and try again but noooo.

[onepiexe]

couldnt sleept i am. so. yeah.

[mattsfavoritestar]

< back_2_matt_masterlist

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, matt sturniolo

synopsis… matt finally decided to be a true frat boy and do a one night stand. unfortunately for him, he didn’t know addicting you were which turned that one night to nearly every night

warnings… fratboy!matt, collagestudent!reader, mentions of alcohol and drug usage, kinda pussydrunk!matt, kinda obsessive!matt, mentions of fratboy!chris, p in v (HOORAY HE PULLS OUT), overstimulation

matt didn’t even want to join a frat sorority house, he was just following chris. yes, he did participate in the parties sometimes and he’s gotten high once or twice. matt isn’t a prude but he likes to think that he has morals. which is why he’s most likely the only guy in the frat house who doesn’t do regular hook ups.

“bro you gotta catch an ass or something, this life your living is boring as shit” chris laughs. both brothers had heavy red eyes as they sat at the couch in a random party they found themselves in. yet again, matt followed chris. matt licked his dry lips then shook his head. he looked around the party at all the collage girls in their skimpiest outfits, drunk off their asses.

“alright how bout this,” he says as he looks at chris, “next girl to walk in, i’ll take her home” he offers. chris laughs at his proposal as he tags a drag from the nearly finished blunt. they kept an eye on the door, waiting for someone, anyone to walk in. then you did.

“can’t back out now” chris smirks.

you rolled your eyes with a groan as you heard a ring from your phone again. you didn’t even have to look at the caller id to know who it was. matt sturniolo. for the past three days since that party, he’s been hot on your trail. it was like you couldn’t go a day without hearing from him.

you pick up the phone, “yes matthew.” you sigh. you heard shuffling then heavy breathing. “come over baby please- i need you” he moaned. you could hear him shamelessly stroking himself through the speaker.

“matt i have a test in the morning-“

“please- fuck- i’ll drive you to class tomorrow”

you decided to cave in and close your laptop. what’s one more day? you grabbed your school bag and an overnight bag then packed up your stuff. “tell one of the boys to leave the door unlocked” you say before hanging up. you walked out your dorm as quiet as possible, trying not to wake your roommates up.

“one more- just one more f’me” he sighed as he rolled his hips. matt was leaning over you with his legs trapping you between them. he had his hands on your waist with a tight grip as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he’d let go. you were drowning in your own moans as your nails dragged down his back. “just can’t get enough of this pussy” he moans.

you couldn’t tell if he was being honest this time granted the last three rounds. you looked at matt through your glossed eyes. his head was thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut. you shook your head as you felt yet another orgasm being forced out of you. “m-matt i can’t!” you whined.

“c’mon baby just give it t’me” he mutters. you felt your legs shake as you released for the fourth time tonight. matt hissed as he felt his own getting ready to spill out. he didn’t want to pull out. but he also didn’t want to give you something that you weren’t ready for.

finally, he pulls out as ropes of his seed painted your stomach. matt looked at you with a smile as he tried catching his breath. your face was flushed with your hair slightly sticking to your forehead from sweat. “can i take a picture?” he asked as he reached for his phone. you weakly threw a pillow at him as he lets out a small laugh.

“matt”

“matt”

“matt!”

“what chris” matt grumbled. he wasn’t even looking at chris when he answered, he was looking at you. “kid what the fuck is up with you lately” chris questioned. for the past two weeks, matt has been leaving the house way more and skipping out on hanging out with the guys.

matt didn’t even acknowledge his question. he was too busy staring at the guy who you were giggling with. his nose was flared and his eyes were holding a harsh glare. “holy shit kid, she’s got you tied down” chris laughs. matt lets out a much needed breath of air before finally turned to chris.

he crosses his arms then leans back to the wall. “there’s some shit going on later right?” matt asks. chris nods, “and our favorite friend is gonna be there” he smirks. matt knew he was referring to the well known dealer. he closed his eyes but quickly shot them open as images of you flashed across his mind.

“where the fuck am i?” matt grumbles as he nearly trips over his own feet. he pulls his phone out his pocket and winces at the brightness as it turns on. matt was completely out of it and a whole three blocks away from the party he was supposed to be at.

it was half past midnight, and matt was high and drunk of whatever bullshit he got his hands on. he noticed familiar street lights in his surroundings then allowed his feet to take him towards the memorized direction. the common dorms were a street away. your dorm was a street away.

matt stumbled as he found himself in front of the door where your dorm laid behind. he tried to call your phone as quick as possible before nearly dropping it. “matt?” he heard your tired voice say. a lopsided smile found it way to his face.

“i’m o-outside” he slurred. shuffling and a deep sigh was heard from the other side before hearing the door open. “stay there okay? i’m coming” you tell him. matt did exactly as you said and waited for you to come get him.

his smile slightly dropped when hearing the call end but it quickly came back as soon as he saw your face when the door opened. he stumbled forward and pulled you into a messy kiss. you pushed him away slightly then steadied him with your hands on his forearms.

“your eyes are really red and you taste like vodka” you stated. he wasn’t even listening to your complaints as he admired your features. you rolled your eyes then pulled him inside. he trialed behind you like a lost puppy as you took him back to your dorm as quiet as possible.

as soon as your door was shut, matt tried kissing you again. you stopped him with a hand on his chest then pushed him back onto your bed. “does anyone know that you’re here?” you ask him. matt shakes his head with that dopey smile still stuck on his face.

“they’ll probably come to find me soon” he says. you bit your lip as you cautiously walk closer to him and stand between his legs. you felt his hands trail up to your waist then rest it there as if they belonged. “we aren’t doing anything tonight, okay?” you tell him.

matt sighs as he lets his head drop down to your stomach. “look what you’ve done to me” he whispers. he groans as you run your fingers through his hair. “go lay down, i gotta finish this paper” you tell him before kissing the top of his head.

[patrywoso]

12. Leah Williamson

+18 smut Strap-Ons. Squirting. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex.

Didn't had time to proof read so sorry for the mistakes i would do it soon.

Leah’s asleep when you get home, a football file open under her snoring cheek. You poke her up and Leah smiles, even fumbling with sleep. She yawns, her jaw cracking. “What’s that?”

You hide the package behind your back. “Nothing.”

Leah’s squinted eyes narrow. “Liar.”

You twist to avoid her searching hands. “It’s a surprise. Don’t ruin it.” You shove it in your side of the dresser and close the drawer firmly. “I’ll know if you peek.”

Leah grumbles good-naturedly and casts a curious look at the dresser, so you grab her around the waist and drag her to bed. “Set the alarm,” Leah gasps, as you nip her way down her neck and across her chest. “Can’t be late.”

You flail a handout and smack at the clock until it beeps twice. “Okay?”

“Yes,” Leah says and flips you to be on top, grinning.

You wait almost a week, your heart beating too quickly when you see the edge of the package as you get dressed in the mornings. 

You wake up one morning on your back, with Leah sitting on your hips. “Hey,” you croak, still half asleep.

Leah kisses you, once. “Good morning,” she says, far too awake for your sensibilities. “Do you know what day it is?”

You squint at the bedside table. “I know what time it is,” you say, faux-sweet. “Did you know it would be your last day on earth today?”

“Don’t be a grump.”

“It is,” you say, shoving Leah off you and rolling over to smash your face back into the pillow, “five in the morning. You’re lucky I love you.”

Leah’s teeth graze your ear. “I am. I know it.” She pulls the sheets down and you groan as the cold hits your bare legs.

“Leah,” you complain, flailing a hand out blindly for the covers. “It’s our day off. Days off are for sleeping.”

Leah licks the back of your thigh. “Sleep, then.” She bites the swell of your ass, through your underwear, and you groan again, your legs parting despite you not wanting.

“You’re being distracting.”

“Am I?” Leah’s voice is all sex, rough, and fake innocence. She bites again, harder. “My deepest apologies.” She hooks her fingers in your underwear and you raise your hips, letting them slide away. Leah’s teeth sink into your skin and you shiver again, less from the cold this time.

“I don’t believe you,” you mumble into the pillow. “Where was this attitude after that fundraiser?”

Leah’s lips press against the small of your back in a pout. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

You look over your shoulder. “You fell asleep while I was going down on you. I’m never letting you live it down. I’m going to mention it in the wedding vows.”

“Hm,” Leah hums, urging her hips up and digging her hands firmly into your inner thighs, spreading you wide. “I’ll just have to try and make it up to you.”

You suck in a breath at the first teasing swipe of Leah’s tongue. “Fuck.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Leah whispers against your center, pressed close and intimate. “Have I told you that I love your cunt?”

You try to squeeze your legs together, Leah’s firm grip preventing it, and moan. “You know what swearing does to me.”

Leah licks her again, sloppy, suckling obscenely. “Love your cunt. Love fucking you.” She slips in a long finger, crooking and pressing in hard. You make a sound, sharp, when she withdraws, watching your body cling to her finger. “Love your noises.” Leah makes a buzzing sound against your clit and your arches, writhing.

“Stop teasing,” you gasp.

“Of course,” Leah murmurs, pausing to suck a mark into your inner thigh, high near the juncture of your hip. Leah lifts you up onto her knees and you can feel the flex of her forearms and her wrists. Leah licks into you from behind, her jaw working, fingers massaging. She makes soft, hungry noises, and eager growls, rumbling out from her chest and punching into you.

You come embarrassingly fast, your hands clawing at the mattress, and you collapse and gasp for air. Leah crawls up your back and kisses your shoulder, damp from sweat. “Okay,” you pants, “I forgive you for waking me up. Worth it.”

Leah purrs against the back of your neck, satisfied. “Happy anniversary.”

You wait until Leah has fallen asleep, after breakfast in bed, feeding each other by hand chasing fruit with kisses, and letting crumbs spill everywhere. Leah yawns like a kitten until you tuck her against the mattress and urge her to take a nap. You slip off the bed, careful, quiet, and rummage in the hall closet, muttering, until you find what you’re looking for.

“Five more minutes.”Leah is boneless under you, mumbling into the pillow and pushing back against your hands. “Okay,” you say, sliding off her. You extend a hand and Leah takes it, letting you lead her into the bathroom.

“Shower sex will never work,” Leah says mildly. “We’ve talked about this.”

You sigh, heavily, stripping your clothes off and tossing them into the corner. “Stop stomping on my dreams. C’mere.” Leah steps close, pleased, and you kiss, easy and familiar. You turn the both of you around, slow, until Leah’s back leans against the counter. You meet your own eyes in the mirror and smile.

Leah is watching you, amused. “Hedonist.”

“Your fault.” you kiss Leah’s throat, watching the shivers roll up Leah’s back in the mirror. “For being so hot. Can’t help it. I’m powerless against you.”

Leah flushes faintly pink; still, after all the times they’ve kissed and all the minutes they’ve spent talking and the hours you have mapped Leah’s body with your fingers, your tongue, your skin; still Leah looks disbelieving when you whisper how beautiful she is, how strong, how brave. “Flatterer,” is all she says, almost demure. You kneel before her and nuzzle at the inside of her knee.

“I love you,” you say, and watch it roll across Leah’s face as her eyes close and her legs part; acceptance, wonder, reciprocation. You love your tongue in Leah, the taste, the textures, the way she breathes your name on a shudder, her hands in your hair. Leah bucks her hips and you urge Leah’s hands until Leah’s holding you still to grind against your chin, your cheek, your jaw, sloppy and gasping, until she cries out, once, sharp, clenching hard. You keep going until Leah tugs you up for a kiss. “You taste good,” you hum, and Leah rubs a knuckle over your panties.

“Let me,” she says, soft. “You want my mouth?”

“All I want is you.” You step closer, kissing harder, and find Leah’s fingers, guiding them to where you want them. You watch Leah’s back flex while she fucks you, leaning your forehead on Leah’s shoulder while you gasp and moans and shudder. Your knees give out and Leah catches you, sliding you both down into a puddle on the cold tile.

Leah draws a bath and settles against the back of the tub. You sigh when you slip into the steaming water, candles burning on the windowsill. Leah massages your scalp until you go boneless, suds sliding down the back of your neck, and you both sit, breathing quietly and nuzzling, until the water gets cold.

Leah pays the delivery of food and you take the opportunity to take out the parcel from your dresser drawer, hiding it under the couch. You both have dinner at the table as you both split a bottle of wine on the couch, curled around each other and giggling, spilling on the floor, the cushions, each other. “I bought something,” you say, the wine humming in your blood in the best way; warming, daring. “I’m nervous.”

“The mysterious package,” Leah says seriously, then snorts when you giggle. It’s so adorable you have to pause to kiss her before retrieving what’s under the couch. You present it and Leah takes it from you, brow furrowed. She looks at it a long time, then at you, then back at the dildo and harness. Her expression flinches, and you grab her before she can retreat, pulling Leah on top of you.

“Stop it,” you say firmly. “You know that’s not why. We could throw this away right now and our sex would still be the hottest around.”

“I have never,” Leah starts, hesitant.

“It’s not about that. It’s just… if you want. If we want.”

Leah rubs a thumb over the head of the toy. “You want to…?”

You bite your lip. “Actually, I thought you might.”

Leah's breath catches. “Oh?” Her voice comes out slightly strangled. She stands, quick, and it takes you both a minute to figure it out, but soon she has it strapped around her hips, snug. Leah looks down at herself, slightly bemused. “Is this what all the fuss is about?”

You flick it to watch it jiggle. “It looks better on you than half the dudes I’ve been with.” you go to your knees. “Can I blow you?”

Leah looks down at you, reaching out a hand to wrap your hair around her fingers. “I can’t feel it, you know.” you take the toy into your mouth, drawing it into your throat, letting your lips stretch, spit shiny.

You pull away. “No interest?”

Leah’s hands sink into your scalp, and she holds you still as she tilts her hips forward. “Maybe I spoke too soon,” she murmurs, hoarse. Leah fucks you’s face, slow and steady and careful, and you relax your throat, taking it.

You close your teeth around the toy and give a soft tug. “I need you in me,” you say, and Leah’s eyes go darker. She pulls you to your feet, eager, and kisses you, hot and filthy. You link your fingers and go to make for the bedroom.

“No,” Leah says, low. She pushes you until you bump against the dining table, knocking the wine glasses on their sides. She steps close and frowns, the height’s not quite right. “Turn around.”

“Fuck,” you say, bracing your hips against the edge, facing away. “Wait..” you yank the hoodie off and lean over, bracing your elbows and forearms flat against the table. “Okay, yeah.”

Leah’s fingers trace up the inside of your leg. “You’re so wet,” Leah says, and you shiver. Leah fingers dip in you, teasing, and then disappear. “For me?” Leah asks, and you hear her sucking on her fingers.

“Fuck,” you choke out, impossibly turned on.

“Now even wetter,” Leah murmurs. She uses her foot to knock you’s stance wider, and when you lift your hips up you hear Leah’s breath catch. Leah braces a hand against the small of your back. “Okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.” and then Leah enters you, torturously slow, and you don't exhale until she bottoms out, your hips bumping. “Oh,” you say, your breath rushing out. You suck in a lungful of air, and then another. “Oh, fuck me.”

Leah shakes in a small laugh. “I am.”

You open your mouth, for something sassy about Leah’s attitude, but Leah thrusts forward, minutely, and the words fall away. You gasp instead, your head falling forward. “More,” you beg, “harder.” Leah draws back, inch by inch, then slams in. “Yeah,” you say, your legs shaking, “c’mon Leah..”

Leah fucks you, fast and controlled, her hand keeping you flat against the table, the glasses rolling off and shattering against the floor. “Jesus,” Leah says, wrenched from her chest, “you..”

“My hair,” you rasp, your forehead pressed against your hands as you rock back into Leah’s rhythm. “LeLeah, please..” Leah grabs a handful and yanks it and you clenches, going on your tiptoes. Leah stops, suddenly, her hips still and her hand gone, and you moan, your nails scrabbling at the wood. “No…”

“Quiet,” Leah says, breathless, and you feel fabric swoop against your skin, tickling. Leah’s taken off her shirt, you realize, and when she bends low, bearing your torso flat against the table, it’s skin to skin, her breasts brushing then pressing on your back. Leah starts moving again, grinding circles and sharp snaps of her hips, too varied for you to predict, and you moan again, helpless.

“Leah,” you pants against the table, drool escaping before you can suck it back.

“You feel amazing,” Leah growls in your ear. “I didn’t think…” Leah stops for a soft noise, low and rumbly, and you clench again.

“Close,” you manage to choke out, and Leah picks up the pace even as she sneaks a hand around to press against your clit, firm and unrelenting.

“I didn’t think it would feel this good,” Leah pants. “I think I could come from just this. Just you.”

There’s pressure building inside you, unfamiliar and inevitable. “Uh,” is all you manage, just a grunt. The table legs scrape against the floor. “Uh, fuck. Fu-fuck,” you lean your head back and to the side, and Leah kisses you, almost missing your mouth, jolting you farther forward.

“I want to feel you come,” Leah is saying into your shoulder, rushed and rough. “I love you.” She bites the back of your neck, hard, and you feel it again, the full rush of wetness, waiting to overflow, the pressure unbearable.

“Wait..” you panic, abrupt, trying to pull away, “stop..” Leah stills immediately, her hands resting on your hips, but you are already coming. You feel it gush out of you, flooding; you can hear it hit the floor with a splash. You collapse onto the table, twitching violently.

Leah rubs her sides, hesitant. “My love?”

“Sorry,” you gasp when you can talk again, still shuddering, “sorry sorry, oh my god, fuck…did I just pee on you?”

There’s a pause. “No,” Leah says, gently. “Did…did you think you did?”

You flushed so hot and bright you could feel it, your cheeks on fire. “Shit. That’s never happened before.”

Leah shivers. “Hot,” she assures you. She hesitates, “You okay?”

You shudder, your body still jolting. “Yeah. It was…it was really good. Fuck.”

“Good.” Leah pulls out, careful even as she moves quickly, pulling you up and around and propping you to sit up on the table. She kneels and licks up your legs, slurping up to your cunt and licking inside.

“I cannot believe,” you pant, one hand on the back of Leah’s head to keep her close and the other leaning behind you, “that I ever thought you were vanilla.” Your whole body locks up for a second and you rock, moaning. “You’re so fucking dirty,” you say, faintly strangled.

“Made you squirt,” Leah hums, smugly self-satisfied. She gives a final lick, broad and long, and stands again. “Nobody else has ever..”

“Okay,” you say, pushing two fingers into Leah’s mouth. “Back in me before your head gets too big.” You hook your legs around Leah and pull her in, guiding Leah in even as Leah sucks at your fingers, teeth grazing. “You can..” Leah surges forward and you gasp. “You can come from this?”

Leah leans her forehead on your shoulders, her thrusts sloppy and jerky. “Yeah,” she breathes.

You lock your legs together and lean back, bracing your hands on the table over her head and shoving yourself back onto Leah’s thrusts. “C’mon,” you say, and Leah half-collapses onto you, hips pistoning erratically. “You made me come so hard,” you say softly, slipping your fingers back into Leah’s mouth. “Made me feel so good.” Leah groans, shaking. “Good girl,” you say, and when Leah’s entire body shudders up, her hips going faster, you say: “my good girl.”

“Fuck,” Leah sobs. She strains her head back, her palms slapping against the table as she fumbles for more leverage.

“Come for me,” you say, “please, baby? For me?”

“Almost,” Leah mutters, “almost..” She sounds high, breathy, and wobbly.

“Come,” you say, putting an order into it, and Leah’s body draws up tight for a few long seconds before she suddenly relaxes, tucking herself against your body and riding out her orgasm in little shivers, tiny mewls. You pet her hair and nuzzle her cheek, before shifting with a slight wince.

“Sorry,” Leah mutters. She hauls herself upright and pauses. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and shudder when Leah pulls out with a wet noise. Leah’s fingers are fumbly on the harness and you sit up to help her. “Clean up tomorrow,” you say. Leah sways, and you both lean on each other as you stumble down the hall. “Fuck,” you sigh as you collapse facedown into your pillow. “Bedtime.”

You pat Leah on the ass. “Talk tomorrow?” Leah grunts, agreeing, and you open your eyes enough to kiss her once, stating. “Happy anniversary.”

“Made you squirt,” Leah mumbles, smashing into your shoulder. “No more fundraiser teasing.”

“We’ll fucking see about that,” you say, and passes out, Leah breathing warm against your neck.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck.  “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed.  “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties.  And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress.  “I swear, you’re a dream come true.  A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other.  With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet.  Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully.  Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much.  If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly.  When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined.  “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See?  You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone.  “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive.  When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power.  You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically.  But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted.  Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down. 

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed.  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come.  These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to.  Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment.  “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath.  Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you.  “Fuck!” 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin.  “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured.  “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you.  Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place.  But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands.  “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper.  “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you.  When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin.  “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin.  “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed.  “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead.  He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it.  “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible.  “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck.  “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge.  “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that.  He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you.  “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked.  His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up.  Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear.  “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear.  “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again.  “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over.  “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck.  “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened.  You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on.  “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded.  “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together.  That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged.  “Thinking about us making a baby right now?  Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations?  “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell.  You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred.  “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight.  “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right?  Say it.  Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that.  Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it.  “Fuck!  I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation.  But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away.  “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face.  “You weren’t serious, right?  I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him.  “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained.  “‘Cause it’s, like, bad.  Well, not bad, but… scary.  In a good way!  Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster.  That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed.  “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race.  See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness.  “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose.  “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn.  “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed.  “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter.  “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye.  They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed.  “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!” 

“He was young once, right?  He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly.  “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended.  “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough.  I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

~

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you.  His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful.  The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter.  That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too.  If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk.  “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face.  His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way.  You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words.  “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed.  “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly.  “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly.  “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered.  “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again.  “We’ll figure something out— just not here.  It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you.  “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you.  “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction.  “You go find an empty room in the east wing.  I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed.  “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd.  You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home.  Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway.  As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs.  “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear.  “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly.  “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress.  You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter.  He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him.  “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak.  He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway.  He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants.  As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus!  It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted.  “It’s very much both.”

~

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately.  Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way.  See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.  

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while.  And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least.  But inside, you were terrified.  You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick.  You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified.  “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject.  “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch.  “I wanted to, you know, talk.  About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink.  “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted.  You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk.  The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk.  You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously.  “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything.  It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck.  “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say.  I knew you’d understand.”

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding.  “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh.  “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted.  “I had a good time.  We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed.  “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head.  “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed.  “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time.  And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

[jwonsite]

strawberry muffins - psh

pairing: fwb!park sunghoon x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: unprotected, he calls reader “good girl” like twice, slight breeding kink, hoon is a fake ass emo.

a/n: @g0niki this was for you 💯

your head spins as you feel yourself being suffocated by a pair of lips on yours, pushing you into your apartment and against the front door as it closed behind the both of you. legs tangled as he pulls you towards him, trying to somehow get you to the bedroom all without breaking the kiss.

you don’t have to guide him there, sunghoon knows your apartment layout all too well. coming over once or twice a week, or whenever he was bored, to do the same routine you guys always did.

fuck, sleep, and he leaves in the morning before you even wake up. no texts, no notes, no strings, no feelings.

deciding he didn’t want to stumble to your room he taps the bottoms of your thighs signaling you to jump up so he could carry you the rest of the way.

he carried you easily, not once breaking the kiss before placing you down on the bed and pulling away to look at you, a certain look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. it wasn’t arousal, or lust, and you couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted from you. your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you avert your eyes from his.

“what? why are you looking at me like that?” you said as you look to the side, hands instinctively coming up to hide your face. his face almost instantly goes back to his cold, hard, almost emotionless face he always has.

“nothing,, you gonna take your clothes off or what?” he asks, getting seemingly more impatient as the minutes pass.

“wow such a gentlemen hoon! makes me wonder why i ever consider not seeing you again,” you say sarcastically, sitting up a bit to take off your shirt as he’s stripping himself from his clothing at the end of the bed.

“you would never because you know nobody fucks as good as i do,” he said cockily, winking at you with a smirk before coming to stand at the foot of the bed, his underwear still on. you roll your eyes at him before completely pulling off your pants, leaving your panties on for him to take off later.

“you want to do the honors?” he jokes, gesturing towards his still clothed dick. you crawl forward on the bed, leaning forward to give it a kiss before suckling on it through the material, the grey underwear turning a darker shade as your spit collects on it. he moaned out before grabbing the back of your head and pushing you into him.

“stop teasing or you won’t cum tonight.” he said as he held your face flat against his cock. you pulled back and pouted at him a bit before pulling down his underwear to free his aching hard on, it slapping his stomach before you grab it and sucked on the tip, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length. his hand came down to tangle in your hair, pushing your head down onto him and making you take almost his entire length down your throat.

you felt you eyes watering, trying your best not to gag as you felt his tip halfway down your throat. your hands were firm against his thighs, grabbing them harshly and leaving small crescent marks from your nails in its place.

sunghoon was a moaning mess, throwing his head back and groaning every time he bottomed out in your throat. you fondled his balls a bit and that is what pushed him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he held you down on his dick, his cum shooting down the back of your throat. when he pulled out of your mouth his cum leaked out of the sides of your mouth, sunghoon using his thumb to wipe it up before pushing his thumb into your mouth, letting you suck on it before grabbing you by the waist and flipping you onto your stomach, face down ass up.

“being such a good girl taking all my cum down your throat hm? you think you can keep it all inside when i fuck you?” he said, palming your ass before slapping down a couple of times, rubbing the sore spot after. you nodded your head into the pillow in front of you, too desperate to give him an actual answer.

“use your words princess. or do you wanna be used like a slut and not cum tonight?” he said in response, wanting to hear your pretty voice begging for him.

“fuck,, yes hoon ill be a good girl please just fuck me already,” you said desperate, reaching your hand back to grab his wrist.

“mm,, good enough i guess,” he says before pushing himself into you, bottoming out in one go. you moaned out, gripping the sheets next to you in support. he leaned forward to give you a kiss on the back of your ear, before pulling all the way out and slamming into you again, starting a brutal pace as one of his hands gripped your waist and the other kept your head pushed into the pillows.

you were moaning out his name and strings of pleas, not even being able to think straight as he fucked you. his hips didn’t stutter once as he kept fucking you hard and fast, slapping down on your ass before pulling you by your hair up towards him, wrapping his arm around your neck in a slight chokehold and holding you up against him like that.

“you like being treated like a slut hm? letting me use you how i want,” he says into your ear, squeezing his bicep around your neck even tighter, eyes rolling back as he deprives you of oxygen.

his hips begin to stutter and that’s how you know he’s close. he keeps you locked in his bicep as his other hands goes around your body to toy with your clit, wanting you to cum with him.

his hips stilled inside of you, pushing his cum deep inside as you felt the coil in your stomach snap, letting out a loud moan and throwing your head back against sunghoons shoulder.

he lets go of you, letting you fall back onto the bed before pulling out and watching how his cum drips out of you, using one of his fingers to push it back into you. you moaned slightly at the feeling of his finger inside you, but mostly becoming overwhelmed with sleep. you laid down on your pillow, eyes fluttering shut while your body is still exposed to him. hoon lets out a small chuckle under his breath, smiling to himself before getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to clean you up with before laying down next to you and draping a blanket over both of you.

“night y/n,” he says, giving you a light kiss on your forehead, light enough to deny it happened in the morning if you remembered.

________________

you woke up to the feeling of a cold bed next to you. the blanket still fully covering you as the other side was neatly put back together, almost as if nobody had slept there the night before. you let out a sigh before rolling over to grab your phone off the nightstand, squinting as the light burned your eyes a bit. your eyebrows furrowed at a notification, pressing on the text to open it.

hoon 🤍

i left you one of those strawberry muffins from that place you like down the street. i was already going there to get one for myself before work so i figured i might as well bring one back to you since you live so close. anyways, hope you like it.

you read the text from him and giggled a bit to yourself. speaking aloud to nobody at all when you say,

“i think he forgot he told me he doesn’t like muffins”

[golden-cherry]

the way you like it - c. leclerc

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: winning twice does something to Charles - in a good way

warnings: basically porn without plot, smut, fingering, overstimulation, slight choking, mentions of creampie and somnophilia, unprotected sex, poorly translated french

word count: 550

a/n: hello friends. I haven't written in a long time and this just happened and I couldn't keep it to myself. enjoy!

"Si bon pour moi, mon amour", Charles groans into your ear, his hand on your stomach sliding down to your thighs and feeling how sticky they are, stained with both of your cum. "Regarde combine tu es venu pour moi." so good for me, my love. look at how much you came for me.

"Charles, please." Your voice is barely more than a whisper. With your eyes closed, you blindly try to reach for his hand, his skilled fingers slowly circling your swollen clit. "It's too much. I can't-"

Charles carefully pushes your hand away and you're too exhausted to do anything about it. "You can and you will." You feel his sweaty skin against your back as he drapes your leg over his hip, his front pressing against your back. "Je Saison sue tu en as encore un pour moi." I know you've got one more for me.

You couldn't have known that his second Grand Prix win in a row would not only increase his self-confidence, but his stamina by one hundred percent as well. Right after his victory celebration and all the formalities, Charles had dragged you into his hotel room and you hadn't left the bed since. That was several hours and several orgasms ago.

Your pussy is sore, your thighs ache and the thin skin on your neck is visibly red from his beard scratching over it. But Charles doesn't care. As his fingers gently circle your most sensitive spot, his other arm wraps around you and his hand gropes your tit. As he rolls your nipple between two fingers, you lean your head back against his shoulder, moaning.

"Charles, I-"

"What do you want, ma belle? Huh? Do you want my fingers?" The fingers that were just circling your clit glide lower and he gently slides two inside you. "Tu sens comme tu es mouillée?" do you feel how wet you are for me? He curls his fingers, touching that sweet spot inside you that makes you squirm and see stars. "Ou est-ce moi qui fuis de toi?" or is it me that's leaking out of you?

You can't talk, can't even think as he spreads soft kisses on your neck and slowly fucks his come back into you, his fingers bringing you once again to your climax. Completely overstimulated and close to the pain threshold, you grab his wrist to push him away, almost whining, and indeed he lets you.

Only to then press you even closer to his muscular body and slide his cock home for what feels like the hundredth time that night. Your eyes roll back, your breathing is ragged. "Dètends-toi, ma belle." just relax, pretty one. Charles' hand, which was on your tit a moment ago, gently rests against your throat. As you moan, he can feel the vibration and his cock twitches noticeably.

"I know you're fucked out and tired, but I'm not finished with you yet." He places his thumb on your jaw and tilts your head so he can take a look at your face. Your brows are furrowed, your lips swollen and you're so exhausted that you can only breathe him in. He loves what he does to you.

"And I know that you don't mind me fucking you when you're asleep." His thrusts are slow, but hard. You feel him everywhere. "Go to sleep, mon amour. I'm right here." Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, before nuzzling his face back into your neck, his hips slowly rocking you to sleep. "And when you wake up, I'll still be inside you. Just comme tu lahmes." just the way you like it.

[withahappyrefrain]

The new clip of Lewis making out on a bed 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 it makes me so feral I need to be put down. It's giving fresh home from a suicide mission and desperately wanting to get his wife pregnant (again?) cause he's just ao happy to be back with her after almost not coming back

The way he manhandles her so effortlessly too? I'm fucked up nonnie.

Anyways, here's Bob with a feral breeding kink under the cut!

As soon as your daughter was fast asleep, his hands were all over you, tugging your clothes off.

You couldn't even make a joke about greed being the seventh sin, as Bob's lips were pressed against yours, tongue eagerly exploring your mouth.

When your back hits the mattress, your husband hovers over you, as if he's trying to commit all your features to memory.

"God, I missed y'all. I missed you, missed my wife so much," he moans against your neck, his hips rocking against yours. You can feel his growing bulge, eliciting a whimper.

Ten weeks with no contact makes one very desperate.

"Fuck, need ya s'bad. Need to be inside ya right now. Please sweet girl?"

Bob doesn't have to ask twice as you're already shimmying your hips to rid yourself of your sweatpants.

You know it was a tough mission when he doesn't wait for you to come while he's in-between your thighs. As soon as he can hear how wet you are, he's lining his cock to your entrance.

The stretch is a pleasurable ache, which you welcome enthusiastically. Bob has to hold your hips down so you wouldn't try to get more of his cock. He may be desperate but he's not going to hurt you.

"Easy there baby, don't -fuck- don't wanna hurt you. Fuck, you feel s'good. S'fucking tight."

Bob's rural accent only comes out two times: when he's with his family and when he's fucking you. You adore the change in his voice,

"Robby, need-"

"I know, I know. Just a little more and then you can have all of me."

Normally, you two would have a moment once he was fully inside. But this past mission caused him to come closer to death than he ever wanted to.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your audible wetness quickly fill the room, both you and Bob grateful that your daughter was a sound sleeper.

"Oh m'god, angel, feel s'good. Fuck, you're so tight. Wanna feel you up, want that little pussy of yours full of me."

His words make you moan, one of his hands quickly covering your mouth, though the smirk remained on his face.

"C'mon, need ya to be a good mama and not wake our girl." You tried, though a moan did escape when he pressed your knees to your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper.

"Ya like that? Want me to make you a mama again? Put a baby in you again?"

You nod desperately, eyes rolling back as his cock continues to brush against a specific spot that is sending you closer and closer to the edge.

He has the audacity to chuckle, "Can tell ya want it. Clenching me so hard. Gonna fill ya up s'good, make ya s'full of me. Gonna give ya a baby."

His words and thrusts make you dizzy with pleasure. He's only this way with you, only this vulgar.

When you feel Bob's fingers draw circles on your clit, your legs begin to shake. It's too much after going without his touch for so long.

His lips replaces the hand that was covering your mouth, swallowing your needy moans. Your hands find purchase on his hair, holding onto him for dear life.

"That's it, take my cock. Such a good girl, such a good little wife f'me. Gonna make that belly round again."

"R-Robby, I-"

"I know. Just let go baby, I gotcha."

Normally you could hold out a little longer. But your husband felt so good. It felt right to have him here again, inside you. So you tipped over, allowing your body to be pushed over that pleasurable edge. He held you as you rode out your high, large hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises come tomorrow morning. Bob wasn't far behind, his hips stuttering as he came.

For the next few moments, you both were silent. Then, you finally gathered enough courage to ask,

"How bad was it?"

Bob lets out a nervous laugh, "Was hoping you'd keep me warm tonight, if that's any indicator."

Your lips formed into a worried pout, fingers finding his hair.

His blue eyes bore into yours, "I'll tell you tomorrow morning. Promise. But tonight, I just wanna be close to you."

You nodded, wrapping your around his shoulders. Bob rested his head on your chest, relaxing as he finally felt at home.

[mae-gi-writes]

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

[mafiaanomaly]

"Morning Routine"

Pairing: Miguel O' hara x Reader

Tags: Fluff, a bit of flirt in the end

Summary: Reader woke up early in the morning to get ready for work but reader is trap in Miguel's arms, Miguel was pretending that he was still a sleep as he was acting very clingy today...

so here's the thing : Miguel O'hara is a light sleeper. an incredibly light sleeper, which isn't surprising-- what, given the nature of his job being spiderman, protecting the multi verse and everything he's ever had to endure.

oh? accidentally drop your phone on your face at an ungodly hour while he's sleeping next to you? he's awake. roll over in bed with utmost caution? he's awake.

breathe? oh, he's definitely awake.

you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand, sleep very much still heavy on your eyes. you squint when you glance at the time, suddenly very hateful of your phone's auto brightness adjustment as it blinds you. that's certainly one way to wake up, huh?

the time reads 7:09am. you've got to leave for work in about 30 minutes, which is fine. no rush, no problem. except that--

well, except that Miguel is laying on top of you, head on your chest, lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. it's become a habit of sorts-- the way he seeks comfort in your existence, the depth of your humanity an anchor & serenity in his life as you weave your fingers through his hair, slowly push him to the edge of slumber in peaceful means. it's reverent, holy, you think, and had you not been working today, you think you would have been able to stay in bed with him all day.

"Miggy?" your voice is quiet, soft-- you wish to gently break his slumber, hand gently patting his back.

he doesn't wake up. you call his name again, pat him a little bit harder. he still doesn't wake. you're insistent on avoiding rude awakenings, so you try this for a few more minutes, no longer groggy and now filled with a slight determination.

7:16am. you need to get ready.

you lean your head back into the pillow, glare at the ceiling.

here's another thing : Miguel O'hara is also a liar.

heavy sleeper, my ass, you think. he tends to be clingier after returning from missions or from HQ after work, which is entirely understandable, and you truly do not mind, but you really, really, don't want to deal with another scolding from your boss. you still entirely, listen to the sound of his breathing.

yeah. he's awake.

"Miguel O' hara. you are awake."

he holds his breath instinctively. you feel it.

"listen, pretty boy. i gotta get ready for work." your fingers run through his messy bed head. "i need you to move."

he doesn't move. doesn't even react. he keeps up the facade.

7:19am. jesus christ, Migg.

you pinch the bridge of your nose, let out a sigh. you try-- keyword being try, to sit up, but suddenly he's so much heavier, and you realize that he becomes dead weight just to make this so much harder-- which says a lot, because he's already incredibly muscular, and god, you think you can win against those arms? think again.

"Miguel, i swear--"

"call in."

when you lie back down, a means of waving the white flag, he finally looks up at you, dark brown eyes gentle and exhausted. there's something so incredibly tender in the way his gaze meets yours, hand reaching for yours as if it's instinct. you're the one holding your breath now, swallowing hard when he smiles that reserved smile that only you have the pleasure of seeing.

"stay with me, please." he squeezes your hand, once, twice, three times, and somewhere in that means an i love you, and you both know this.

you can't win. you can never win against him.

7:27am. oh, whatever, it doesn't matter anymore, you think, so you set your phone aside, focus on Miguel instead.

he notices the conflict in your eyes, then a brief contemplation, and the quiet admittance of defeat. he feels your body relax beneath his as you squeeze his hand four times, the kindest of smiles falling on your lips.

"fine, pretty boy. guess i'm sick, huh?"

"got a cold?"

"hm? sure."

he grins-- that shy little grin that you love so much, and you pinch his cheek, the curl of your lips growing ever so slightly.

"what a shame," he murmurs, "guess i should warm you up."

"i lied. suddenly i feel fine. i'm going to work."

"no, wait--"

[akaneoxo]

Coffee in the Morning

Summary-  Your boyfriend Choso wakes you up horny.

WC- 1028

Even under the heavy duvet you still manage to feel cold until a pair of arms wrap around you. Smiling you slap at your husband's hand he paws at your chest. You feel him smile into the nape of your neck. “Choso what time is it?” You yawn out stretching before turning to face him. Well attempting to because he keeps you caged in with your back to his chest. Kissing in between your shoulder and neck you feel his heavy palm drag your thigh up. “Hold this for me.” He murmurs before sucking two digits into his mouth, releasing them with a soft pop.

“Mmph the sun is barely out and- ah”

Choso smiles pecking you on the cheek as he works over your clit in slow circles. Your arm barely keeps your shaking thigh open for him. “Missed you.” he murmurs into your skin before sinking one long finger into your cunt. You moan arching your back and losing the grip on your thigh. “Mm mm” You hear him rasp before swirling his fingers even deeper into you. “Stay open for me.” Your fingers tremble trying to keep a grip on your leg.You hear him hum in approval before he adds another finger. Scissoring you gently and working you open patiently. You squeal when his other palm slowly drags up from your waist, brushing softly against your hardened nipples before slipping the straps of your nightgown down. “So fucking pretty” he hums before he thumbs your clit. “Why you always so fucking pretty ?” He asks in that deep tired voice. Your leg slams shut and you let out a long moan as you feel your peak climbing. Choso pulls his hand away all together and you whine reaching for his hair that's hanging loosely around his shoulder.”Please- “ You yelp when he slaps your clit with the same wet fingers. Once, Twice, Three times.

“Baby” You choke. Choso says nothing, but he gently removes your hand for the grip in his hair before settling it back under your thigh. He adjusts you slightly, rubbing his slick covered fingers over himself and pumping a few times. You heard him groan as he began to slide himself into your folds. He slaps your clit lightly before pushing into you slowly. “Missed this pussy so much. Don't ever want to leave it.” You feel his hand cover the one holding your thigh and you must be doing an awful job of holding yourself open for him because he chuckles lightly nosing your cheek when you whine. “I got it baby, ‘s okay.” He's rolling his hips into you slowly. Savoring every sigh and whimper that leaves your lips. His other hand fits between you and splays against your tummy. Holding you in place.

Your hand reaches back to curl your fingers into his dark strands as you moan. He's dragging his heavy cock against your walls slowly so you can feel every inch. He's kissing a trail of hickies down your throat and you squeak once his raspy voice is at your ears again. “Rub your pussy for me.” He groans. You bring a shaky hand to your clit, rubbing slow circles just how you like. Biting your lips when your boyfriend sighs in approval. “Always so fucking good for me. Do anything I tell you huh princess?” He drags the hand from your tummy up to your throat and squeezes. You squeal trying to close the legs he has open as he starts to really fuck into you. He soaks up your cute little babbles and mewls. He knows hes not going to last long.

He lets go of his grip on your legs before moving you onto your stomach. He leans his weight flush against you but not to crush you. “Cross your ankles.” He says kissing your cheek as he lines himself up with your entrance. You nod completely in a trance as you do what he says. He settles a hand around your throat again because he knows how much you love it. He doesn't squeeze, just holds you up as he sinks into you again. He smiles as your eyes cross and roll back. You stick out your tongue and he knows what you. He purses his lips and spits into your mouth before covering it with his hand. Then he fucks you. The headboard is slamming against the wall so loudly you're worried you're going to get another complaint from the neighbors. But thats the least of your worries when your usually sweet and shy boyfriend is absolutely fucking your guts up. 

You tap his forearm twice and he moves his hand from your throat.

“G-gonna cum. Fuckfuckfuckfuck- Please”

You feel a light slap against your cheek and Choso moans when he feels you start to flutter around him. 

“You asking or telling me, pretty girl?”

You dont fuck up the answer to this question. You did once and learned your lesson after he cruelly edged you for eight times that session. “A-asking Cho- Please” You feel his hand curl around the back of your throat pushing you into the bed and you're grateful for the pillows that you're squealing into. “Mmm cum for me baby, and i'll fill this pussy up.” He leans up grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to fuck you back against him. “Pretty ass pussy.” He brings a calloused hand down sharply against your back side and you cum. Choso chuckles as he fucks you through your orgasm. Burying his head back against your neck before he's joining you with a low moan. 

Your boyfriend is thrusting against you lazy as comes down from his high. Humming into your neck when you squeeze him again. Turning your head slightly he kisses you.“I love you.” You can feel him still hard inside you and you squeeze him again. “Love you so fucking much.” He murmurs against your open mouth as he sets a steady pace again. Your pretty eyes flutter shut and you know you're not sleeping for the rest of the night. 

AN- Reblogs, likes, and comments are heavily appreciated ! <3 TY for reading

[twinklychan]

I don't think I could love you more

Lee minho oneshot

Just fluff, the fluffiest fluff probably, kissing mentioned

Wc: 1.7k+

Another Night that starts with you driving to Minho's place. Tears in your eyes. You try to wipe them away Aggressively as you think about how you ended up in this situation once again. The reason for your crying is probably the worst of it all. Your love for Minho was just too strong. It seemed silly to cry over how much you love your best friend. But even more silly was the fact that you cried over how much you wanted to be his Partner. 

It wasn't only a crush anymore, you were down bad and realization hit you when you sat on your couch, watching a show with best friends falling in love. (Who would've guessed…) 

You drive as fast as you can (and as fast as you're allowed to) and when you finally arrive it feels like 3 hours passed even though it's only a 15 Minute way to his apartment. You ring the bell once…twice…thrice until the door opens and a tired looking minho appears behind the door. 

You press your lips together at the cute sight of his tousled hair and tired eyes as he rubs his face with his left hand. When his eyes fully adjust to your presence, they ever so slightly widen and he immediately puts his hands onto both of your shoulders, pulling you in his chest. 

“What happened?!” For a moment you just stand there, head buried in his chest, confused as to why he would ask such a question but then you remembered that you came here crying. You suddenly start to laugh, surprising yourself with the sudden mood switch. 

You weren't only a crying mess now but also a crying mess with a smile on your face, looking like a maniac. Minho quickly pulls away, his face holding a concerned expression as he mustered you. 

“Am I supposed to know what emotion you're displaying now or what is happening?” He asks but all you can do is stand there and laugh, your hands cupping your face before they wipe the tears that race down your cheeks. You shake your head.

“No I- I just missed you.” You mumble into your palms, and when you feel His warm hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands away, you want to cry again. He is an angel. He has those delicate ways of showing his love even if it's only friendship (you want it to be more though.) The way he would scan your entire face and know your emotion immediately just made everything so much more comfortable.

Your friendship was to die for and you nearly do by loving him more than he probably loved you. Your eyes well up with tears again as you start to pout to fight them away but to no avail. The next tears lined up for the race on your cheeks and before you could stop them they were running down gracefully and with so much force you weren't even fast enough to wipe them away before they dropped onto Minho's arms.

“Come inside.” He mumbled, pulling you into his apartment fully before closing the door and turning back around to face you. 

“Now what the hell is going on-” He asked and you suddenly feel bad for waking him up at midnight and stealing his chance to sleep through. Love can be selfish at times.

“I-” you didn't even get to finish the sentence before he stepped closer in one long stride and examined your body.

“what- what are you doing-” you asked, yelping as he searched for bruises of any kind. (At least it looked like it) he held up your arms, one at a time, trying to find any signs of wounds but there was nothing. Then he put his thumb and Index finger to your chin and moved that side to side.

“You're not hurt- why are you crying?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“I told you I missed you!” your voice was louder than a minute ago now. You were sick of pretending to have only platonic feelings for him. His eyes widened a bit before he put on his usual resting expression. 

"Sure." He mumbled, smirking with a knowing look on his face.

“How could you not miss me, I'm great.” He continued and you whacked his arm, your lower lip moving slightly forward into a small pout.

“Don't make fun of me, idiot!” You whined, his lips turning into a smirk and you groaned.

“You know what? Forget it, I'm leaving, you're not worthy of my missings.” and with that being said you turn on your heels, ready to walk away. But as it just stayed silent in the apartment and you neared the door you suddenly turned around.

"What? So you actually want me to leave?” You say, disappointed when you see his smile. He knows exactly what he's doing. And you hate how good he looks. He looks like a Greek god sculpted his face himself and put every face he has ever found more than pretty into one sculpture  that turned out to be Lee Minho.

With a little bit self control he wouldn’t have laughed but knowig Minho he doesn’t give one fuck about that. He breaks out into laughter as you huff and turn around, opening the door.

“Fine, then just ignore my feelings I guess.” you mumbled to yourself, nearly closing the door behind you before you heard quick footsteps.

“Wait! I was just joking, come on!” He laughs as he follows you but you just ignored him, deciding to play a game with him this time.

As soon as your foot left his apartment, you felt one hand grabbing you in your kneecaps and another one under your shoulder blades. You felt your body being lifted off the ground and suddenly you were in Minho's hands, your legs on his right arm and your back on his left arm.

“what are you doing?” You ask as he looks at you like you're the dumbest person on this planet.

“What do you mean, dummy? I'm practicing.” You look at him confused as you try to read his face but to no avail.

“For what?” You ask, confusion in your voice.

“for our wedding.” and there it was, the minho you fell in love with. The minho that made your heart beat 100 times faster than it normally does and once again, like always when he did that stuff, your heart leaped onto the floor beneath you. You were glad he was holding you in his arms, otherwise you would've probably turned into a puddle right in front of him, with how weak your knees have gotten. 

The only way you could respond was a small slap on the shoulder and your face buried in his neck as you giggled. Your cheeks burned. You hated the way you reacted to him. The way you gave in so easily with a smile and how you weren't even able to hide the excitement cursing through your body.

Minho started laughing hysterically as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘cute’ to himself. But that was probably just your delusion.

10 Minutes later and the both of you were seated on his couch, cuddled up and watching a movie. But even if you tried so hard to concentrate on the movie, you just couldn't help but spiral. How were you not supposed to fall in love with your best friend with all the stuff he did to you?

The worst was, that you couldn't even pinpoint if it was just Minho’s way of friendship or if he was actually in love with you too. At this point you didn't care anymore. It was past 2am, you're not responsible for the stuff coming out of your mouth this late and you surely weren't when you randomly blurted out-

“I love you!” Silence. 

Then a small movement from his side.

“I…love you too?” He mumbled like it was a question and you knew he didn't have the same meaning behind it as you did. 

“Good.” You mumbled, coughing to overpower the awkward silence that hung in the air. Until Minho's laughter filled up the room. You nearly snapped your neck at how fast you turned it around to look at him.

“You're cute.” He snickered, making your cheeks burn as you Huffed.

“Well maybe I don't want to be cute-” 

“Too bad you are.” You couldn't even finish your sentence before he interrupted it, making your heart beat even faster if that was even possible. 

And from then on everything happened in mere seconds. 

His face inches away from yours, his lips moving to ask for permission, you nodding your head and finally his lips on yours. They moved in perfect sync as if they were meant to be put together. Like a puzzle. And as he pulled away and looked into your eyes with so much love and adoration you knew it was the end of you. 

You blinked once, twice,...thrice and then you grabbed the pillow beside you, burying your face in it as you squeaked. You never liked this cheesy stuff in movies or shows but somehow you weren't any better than the characters there. 

You had no intention of moving away from that pillow any time soon as you know your face must be looking like a tomato.

The only thing you felt were his arms that moved you into his embrace.

“Give me a moment.” You mumbled and Minho just laughed, adoring your honesty.

You finally pulled away from the pillow and were met with the admiring eyes and adoring smile of Minho’s. You bit your lip smiling to yourself as Minho looked at you.

“I love you…have been loving you for a while actually.” He admitted. You giggled, pecking his lips before pulling away.

“I love you too.” You mumbled.

“Can't believe you had to confess at 2am and wake me up for it though-” He teased as you hit his right arm.

“Ow- okay I'm sorry-” He apologized.

“You better be.” You glared, pecking his lips once again, and then his nose and his forehead.

“I love you.” You mumbled.

“I love you too.”

[iinsertblognamee]

my girlfriend

summary ― sam is ready for the world to know about her girlfriend

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― angst? fluff

based off this and this request

“Just ten more minutes, please Sammy?” you pouted, your arms tightly around her waist as you tried to pull Sam back into bed. Unfortunately, she had an interview to go to. 

“Y/N, baby, you know I have to leave soon and I haven’t even taken a shower yet”. 

You take a sniff of her, Sam shaking her head as she pretends to push you away. “You smell fine to me” You slid up and kissed her neck, looking up at her with a smile on your lips. “Or maybe you’re right. You should stay here and we could shower together?” 

A hum leaves her lips, her eyes closing as you plant some more kisses on her neck - you can feel her body relaxing into yours. 

“Nope! No. I can’t. I have to get to this interview” She pulled away from you, turning around so she was now facing you, bringing her lips to yours once more. 

“Noo, why?” you whined, your arms crossing over your chest. She pulls herself up once again, grabbing her towel off the bed and making her way towards your bathroom. She had been staying over at yours the past few nights (not that you were complaining). 

“The joys of being an athlete” she answers back, the sound of the shower starting as she comes back out, you look her up and down, your lip going in-between your teeth. She had taken her shirt off, leaving her in shorts and her sports bra. 

“Smokin' body baby,” you remarked, making one last attempt at making her stay. 

“Not going to work” she sings back, closing the door. 

A sigh leaves your lips, as you slump back down onto your bed, rolling over so your face is smashed into your pillow, the smell of Sam filling your nose. Managing to pull the covers over your body, you closed your eyes and let the smell of Sam keep you occupied until she came back. 

Sam comes out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, your even breathing indicates you had fallen asleep during her shower, a smile coming up on her face. She slowly made her way over to your sleeping form, climbing on the bed as she leaned over you. Shaking her wet hair over your face. 

The tiny water droplets were enough to wake you up once again, groaning as you attempted to hide your face under the covers, Sam’s laughter leaving her lips as she watched you struggle - bringing her lips to your forehead as she wiped off the water. 

“Not funny Sammy” you mumbled, looking up at her through the covers as you attempted to give her an annoyed look. You could feel the smile breaking through your ‘anger’, turning your head so your face was covered. 

“Hey, hey. I was just playin' baby” 

Shaking your head, trying to keep your giggles quiet. 

“Sure you were” 

The silence is enough to bring you out from the covers, trying to find what had made Sam so quiet but before you knew it her hands were at your sides, tickling you - a smirk on your face as you beg her to stop. 

She lets you suffer for a few more seconds before she stops tickling your sides, her hands still firmly on you as she kisses you twice on the lips. You tried for a third but she pulled back, removing herself off the bed and towards your cupboard for some clothes. 

“So I was wondering if you would want to go to dinner after I come back? A couple of the girls wanna catch up”

The silence is enough of an answer for Sam, who turns around as she faces your face. You watch the frown paint her face, as you play with the covers in your hands. 

“Just think about it yeah? We going out around six. It’s at the fancy Italian place you like”

“Are the girls definitely going to be there?” 

“Yeah. Obviously” she questioned, her head tilting a little like she was trying to crack through your thoughts. “So?” she added. 

“I don’t know, Sam. It’s a lot like - I don’t know if I want people to know yet, like, officially.” 

Somehow the frown on her face becomes deeper, your heart sinking further. “But the girls already know I’m with someone? I mean I don’t hide the fact I’m with you around anyone.”

“I know Sammy, but that’s. I don’t know. Different? Knowing you have a girlfriend is different to actually knowing who I am” You could see her wanting to fight you on this, the sighs leaving her lips. “Please, Sam.” 

She gives you a small hum, as she brings her head through her shirt, looking in your mirror to take a look at herself. Knew she was just trying to avoid your eyeline, and it was working. 

“So, what am I meant to say when they ask about you? Because they will ask about you today?” 

Finally spinning around to face you, you could see she was pissed off and you couldn’t blame you. You had been reluctant to tell people you were dating Sam - including Sam’s friends and family. And as much as you were doing it to protect yourself, you could see how much it was upsetting your girlfriend. 

“I don’t know” you murmured, hoping Sam heard you so you wouldn’t have to repeat it. You weren’t trying to upset her, but that didn’t seem to matter. 

“Alright,” she answers, taking a look once more in the mirror before grabbing her jacket off the door handle. You almost wait for her to just walk out the door without a goodbye, but Sam turns back to you - a small smile on her face as she indicates her hands towards her outfit.

“How do I look?” 

You knew everything wasn’t magically fixed, but it was enough for a smile matching hers to appear on your lips. 

“Perfect” 

It makes her smile grow, yours following as she makes her way towards you once more. “Give me a kiss before I leave” You don’t need to be told twice, bringing your lips to hers. One kiss turned into five before she reluctantly pulled away. 

“I do really need to go” she mumbles onto your lips before pulling away and making her way out of your bedroom. 

You don’t catch her smile turning into a frown as you make sure your front door is locked, making her way towards her car. She didn’t understand why you were so adamant that your relationship was kept so secretive. She understood the public aspect, her fans sometimes got crazy but she loved them nonetheless - and most of them were very supportive. But your hesitant nature towards both your friends and family finding out was almost wounding. She wanted to show you off to every single person she knew, wanted to hold you and kiss you and have her friends and family complain about how cute the two of you were together - cause you were. 

Ultimately she respected your decision, although she didn’t push on your past relationships - she understood enough to know it ended on not the best terms. She wouldn’t tell people until you were ready, but she was starting to worry that you wouldn’t ever be ready. 

Placing her sunglasses on, she turned the car on and left your street. 

…

The interview went great, although Sam never doubted that it wouldn’t. 

The drive back to your place was easy enough, the traffic was light which Sam was grateful for cause her mind was clouded with thoughts. 

Why didn’t you want anyone to know? The two of you had been dating for almost seven months now and no one besides the two of you was aware. Were you ashamed? Sam tried to think back to see if you had ever hinted about your friends and family not being supportive but couldn’t come up with an answer. Maybe dating someone who was in the spotlight at times wasn’t what your family wanted for you? 

The one thought that kept coming back to Sam was maybe it all came down to maybe you just didn’t want anyone to know you were with her, maybe you were embarrassed. And that hurt. 

Sam knew she wasn’t perfect, but she tried. She tried for you because she knew how much she cared for you, and wanted the absolute best for you. 

Your home came into view, and Sam suddenly felt nervous as she parked the car. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her shorts she took a deep breath in. Once she felt she was ready to face the music, she made her way out of the car and towards the front door. 

Two knocks on the door, the sound of your feet making their way towards the door is enough to bring a soft smile to Sam’s face. No matter the doubts you may have in the relationship, Sam knew there was no doubt in her love for you and right now that was enough. 

The door swings open, a slight blush to your cheeks as you blow away some hair that had fallen down onto your face. A grin planted on your face, as you threw your arms around Sam and pulled her into the house. Sam lets you guide her in, a giggle leaving your lips and you force the two of you past the kitchen and right into the lounge room. 

Falling onto the couch with a small ‘humph’ you bring your lips onto Sam’s. 

“Hi” 

“Hi,” Sam whispers back onto your lips. Although you were lying on top of Sam, you managed to hold the back of her neck as you pulled yourself closer into the kiss - if that was possible. The small moan that leaves your lips is almost embarrassing, but Sam always had that effect on you. 

The kisses weren’t quick pecks, they were rough, almost greedy. Sam indulged, her hands gripping your hips as the pair of you continued to kiss each other. The dings of your grandmother’s clock break the tension for a second, indicating that it is already 5 p.m. You go back in for more, almost as fast as before but Sam’s reluctance is enough to get you to pull away. 

“Is everything okay?” your eyes watch her face, a small frown appearing on her lips. 

“Can we talk?” 

That’s. That’s not good. Nothing ever good comes from those three words. You are almost determined to make sure whatever conversation Sam is trying to have right now, doesn’t happen. Bringing your lips back to hers. She moves her head away, so your lips fall to the side of her cheek. 

“Y/N. Please”

Planting kisses down her neck, hoping this would work. “Do.” Kiss. “You”. Kiss. “Really”. Kiss. “What”. Kiss. “To”. Kiss. “Do”. Kiss. “That”. Kiss. “Right now”. You pull away, looking up and down her face once more. 

She looked desperate and sad. 

“Okay” You remove yourself from Sam, her legs move to give you enough room to sit back on the couch. Your heart beating faster and faster. “Is everything okay?” 

She opens her mouth, closing it before opening it once again. “It’s just-” her eyes have managed to look everywhere else except your face, your head tilting as you tried to gain her attention. “I just keep thinking about why you don’t want to tell everyone we’re dating. It’s driving me mad because I know how much I want the whole world to know I’m dating you and you seem, well, you seem like never want anyone to know.” 

This. This isn’t where you thought this conversation was going, the shock apparent on your face. 

“I just need to know, it is me? Did I do something wrong? Because I’ve been racking my brain all day trying to come up with reasons as to why you don’t want anyone to know and it all seems to come back to me. So I must be the problem. There must be something wrong with me.” 

It takes you a few seconds to grasp what exactly Sam is telling you. None of it makes sense in your head. 

“What?” falls from your lips as you physically shake your head as if that was going to make all of this make sense to you. You miss Sam’s mouth opening to say something before you cut her off. 

“No. That’s not- No. Jesus Sam. Why would you even think that?” 

Whatever Sam was going to say fell short, her attention finally finding yours. 

“No?” it sounds so small, and you feel your heart break once more. How had it come to this? 

“No! God no baby. None of this is because of you! It’s me. I’m just- I’m anxious because you’re you and I’m me and there’s no reason on earth why you should be dating me. I mean look at you!” 

It takes you a few moments to realise that Sam has pulled you into her embrace, her hands running up and down your back. 

“Baby, there is no one else on this earth that I would want to be with. You’re it for me. I don’t care. And I am so lucky to be able to call you my girlfriend. God, I can’t even begin to explain how much joy and happiness you have brought into my life - and everyone around me can see it. It’s why they are so anxious to meet you, they’ve seen first-hand how much you’ve changed my life - for the better. And I love you so much because of it.” 

Your eyes widen, as you pull away - Sam’s eyebrows frowning. She just said I love you. 

“What?” 

“Yo-you love me” 

Sam felt her heart swell up, a smile replacing the frown. Nodding her head. 

“Of course I love you Y/N, wasn’t trying to hide it” 

You feel the tears well up, bringing your hands up to her face as you pull her in - kissing her on the lips. 

“I love you too, just in case you didn’t realise either”. 

“Thanks” she laughs out, kissing you once more before pulling away. Her hands drop to hold onto yours. 

The silence is comfortable, the two of us just taking in each in. Although we knew we loved each other, the confessions now said out loud are comforting. 

“Can I come tonight?” 

The request shocks Sam, a shy smile playing on your lips, as you play with her fingers. 

“Of course you can come baby, but don’t feel like you have to! I understand that it’s daunting and we can take it slow” 

“I know” you reply, looking back up at your girlfriend. “But, I think I’m ready for the world to know I’m dating Sam bloody Kerr.” 

…

Turns out you had nothing to be worried about, although the two of you had still kept your relationship away from the public eye, friends and family had been introduced. 

That night out with Sam and her friends had been a blast, you had gotten on with every single one of them and not once did you feel excluded or judged. It did make you feel horrible about being so uptight about meeting them before but Sam wouldn’t let you blame yourself - instead took you out to get some McDonald's sundaes after dinner. 

Having a wider group, besides Sam and yourself know about the two of you definitely came with perks. Including being able to finally see one of Sam’s games live, seated in the ‘friends and family’ section. Sam and the girls on the team made it very clear to you that you were definitely the ‘family’ part of it. 

The atmosphere was incredible, the crowds so supportive and filled with blue. The way it should be. You had managed to steal one of Sam’s jerseys, ‘Kerr’ splashed against your back, although she had left long before so had no idea. 

The game was tense, Arsenal was a great team and you knew how much pressure was placed on both teams to perform. You, as well as the rest of the crowd, cheered when the final minute ended. Chelsea took the win, 3 to 0. 

You watched as both teams shook hands, a hug shared between the Matildas teammates, Sam, Steph and Caitlin. You had been introduced to both ladies a few days beforehand, alongside Mackenzie and Alanna. It was a fun group and you knew that this outcome was going to be hard either way. 

Not quite sure how exactly all of this worked, you watched as friends and family of the team were allowed onto the field to celebrate with the team, you following your way down onto the pitch looking for your girlfriend. It takes a few seconds, no Sam in sight before you’re met with a smiling Guro. 

“She’s doing an interview, I can take you there if you like?” 

You give your thanks as you nod your head. Congratulating her on the win, the two of you talk as you make your way inside to where some pop-up interviews are being taken. You catch Sam off to the left, headphones on as she talks with a lady. 

By the looks of it, the interview was close to ending. You managed to get close enough, to hear the end of the interviewer question. 

“-But for your friends and family watching back home what’s your message for them?” 

Sam answers almost immediately, “Uh yeah. I love you guys. I wish you could be here these are the moments as a player that you play and wish your family was here but they’re probably all home-” you catch eyes with Sam, a smile on your face as you give her a small wave. A smile lit up her face “-My girlfriends here trying to put on a show but yeah let’s go.” 

You feel your heart speed up, shaking your head with a blush appearing on your cheeks. The interview closes up, as Sam thanks her once more before making her way over to you. It takes no less than three seconds before she’s lifted you up off the ground, spinning you around as she brings her lips to yours. 

“I don’t know if your girlfriend would appreciate that,” you remark as she places you down, a smirk appearing on your face as you watch her laugh. Her hands are still on your hips, as she pulls you back into her chest. 

“Blue looks good on you” you hum in response, pulling yourself out of her embrace before turning your back to her. “But does it look as good as your last name on my back?” 

You don’t get a response, as you turn around. Her eyes wide as she watches you. You let out another giggle coming back to her embrace, her mouth closing. 

“When we get home I want you in nothing but this jersey. You’re never taking it off” 

“Sam!” 

…

Sam loved making you blush. It was one of her favourite things, the way you get all shy - your cheeks heat up as you try to turn the attention off you. It wasn’t hard to get you to blush, it normally took a comment or a slap to your bum in public (or not) to get it started. 

Although Sam liked making you blush, she loved showing you off even more. Friends, family, strangers, she couldn’t care less. After 3 years together she still showed you off like a new trophy. 

You were currently in the stands with Sam’s family, Sam down on the field with her Matilda teammates as they warmed up for their game against France in the World Cup. You were occupied with Sam’s nephews to notice that Sam had started to make her way towards the stands. 

The sounds of cheers take both yours and the boy's attention off the colouring in and towards the noise to see what was going on. Your eyes lock onto Sam’s, a smile on both your faces as you give a small wave. 

The smile turns into a smirk and before you notice you can make out a whistle before “Ah. Sexy” Sam’s family around you burst into laughter, as you hide your face in your hands. Your cheeks heat up as you feel Maddi pull you into her embrace. 

Removing your hands, taking Sam in once more as you shake your head before mouthing “I love you” 

“I love you more Mrs Kerr”

[sunshinesteviee]

fast asleep - s.h.

you and steve pull a prank on your little girl when she pretends to be asleep; based on a tiktok trend i've seen a few times hehe. dad!steve & mom!reader; 1.3k

Masterlist

Phoebe is sprawled across the couch, half in your lap, half in Steve’s. Your fingers stroke through her hair slowly, careful to not pull too hard on the delicate strands. Between that, and Steve’s hand on her calf, thumb stroking short lines over her skin, she’d fallen asleep halfway through The Little Mermaid. But now that the credits are rolling, you can tell she’s at least somewhat awake, pretending to be asleep so Steve will carry her to bed. Her eyes and lips twitch slightly, in the way they always do when kids pretend they’re sleeping. 

Steve will carry her to bed either way, but exchanging a look with him, you know he’s going to have a bit of fun with it. 

“Oh man. Looks like Bee is fast asleep! Missed half the movie, what a bummer. Guess I’ll have to carry her to bed if we can’t get her up,” he says, like he’s whispering, but still loud enough for Phoebe to hear. 

“Uh oh. Bee? Gotta get up, sweet girl,” you try, shaking her shoulder gently. The movement causes the corner of her mouth to curl ever so slightly, and you can tell she’s fighting hard to keep her eyes closed. 

“Bumblebee?” Steve asks, fingertips pressing into the sole of her foot lightly, just enough to tickle, “Wake up, Bee!” 

Though she refuses to open her eyes, a short, muffled giggle escapes her lips, pressed together tightly. Your eyes meet Steve’s over your daughter’s figure, and you both have to hold back your own laughter. She is absolutely everything. 

“Ya know,” Steve says after a moment, still barely above a whisper, “I heard that there’s one way to tell for sure whether or not a kid’s asleep.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, no idea where he’s going with this, but ready to play along, “What’s that?”

“Well, if you pick up their arm and it stays in the air, they’re actually asleep. But if it falls back down, they’re just faking it.”

“We should definitely try, just to make sure she’s not tricking us.”

“Definitely,” Steve repeats, nodding seriously as he pulls the frilly sock covering her tiny foot up her ankle. 

“Alright, let’s see if she’s asleep…” you trail off, taking Phoebe’s wrist in your hand, lifting it up above her head. 

Her hand is so small, just a fraction of the size of your hand. Your thumb rubs over the back of her hand in a soft circle once, twice. Sometimes you can’t believe that you made every single perfect part of the human stretched out across your laps. Making eye contact with Steve, he gives you a bright smile, and you know he’s thinking the same thing. 

Giving the tiny hand in yours a gentle squeeze, you finally let go of it. There’s a split second where Phoebe’s hand seems like it’s going to fall back into her lap, but it stays in the air. You can see the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, all too pleased with herself and what she thinks she’s getting away with. 

It takes everything in you to not burst out laughing loudly at the way her hand stays in the air, the way you can see her lips twitching again, fighting her own smile. Steve slaps a hand over his mouth, smothering the laugh that threatens to burst out of him, head turning to bury his face into a pillow nearby. You bite down on your bottom lip, stifling more giggles as you say, “Oh, she’s fast asleep. Totally knocked out, I can’t believe it.”

She totally thinks she’s tricked the two of you, even more so when Steve finally composes himself enough to chime in, “Guess I’ll have to carry her to bed, we can’t leave her down here when she’s asleep like this.” You know that was her goal the entire time, and this time, she can’t help the smile that breaks out on her face. Despite the smiling and giggling, you’re impressed that she hasn’t opened her eyes yet. 

You gently push her arm down, and then brush a strand of hair out of her face, leaning over her tiny body to press a kiss to her head, “Daddy’s gonna bring you to bed, Bee. Sweet dreams, sleepy girl.”

Untangling himself from the blankets and pile of limbs, Steve finally manages to get up from the couch. He reaches towards the ceiling in a stretch that pulls the hem of his shirt up his torso, yawning loudly. You can’t tell if the yawn is real, or if it’s just for show for your daughter. A wink is shot your way as he takes notice of your staring, leaning down to peck your lips softly. Then he turns to his daughter in your lap with an amused smile, shaking his head fondly. 

His hands sneak under her arms, and then, as if she weighs nothing, he hoists her off the couch and into the air. You’re pretty sure you hear a quiet giggle as he rearranges Phoebe against his chest, moving her head to rest on his shoulder, her legs around his waist, an arm under her butt to support her. He makes it look easy, though he pretends to groan at the effort, “Oof! My little girl isn’t so little anymore. Gotta carry her to bed while I still can… Be right back, honey.” He says the last part to you as he turns towards the stairs. 

He’s joking, mostly, though she is getting bigger and bigger every day. Enough that the thought of not being able to do this soon breaks his heart a little bit. So, he hums softly as he trudges up the stairs to Phoebe’s room, running a hand up and down her back as he goes. He’ll do this for as long as she lets him. 

Steve gets Phoebe into bed easily, having had four years of practice, and tucks her in carefully. She has yet to open her eyes as far as he can tell, and he’s genuinely impressed, though she does seem to finally be nodding off now that she’s in her bed, wrapped in her blankets. He moves one of her stuffed animals closer to her body and bends at the waist to kiss her head softly. It seems she’s really sleepy enough now to forget the charade, and a tiny, tired voice floats up from her pillow, “Nanite, Daddy. Lub you…” 

“Goodnight, Bee, sweet dreams, baby. I love you so much.”

With one more kiss to her head, Steve finally straightens and turns on the white noise machine by her bed before slipping out of her room. He leaves the door open just a crack, the way she likes it so a bit of light from the hall can seep in, and makes his way back to you. 

“Out like a light. For real this time,” he announces proudly as he stops in front of you on the couch. 

“You’re amazing. I can’t believe she fell for that! Think you can carry me up to bed, too?” you ask with a grin, holding your hands up towards him. Steve’s eyes narrow, as if you’ve just challenged him, even though you were totally kidding. 

“You know I can, do I need to prove it again?” he asks, a hand on his hip for a moment before he takes one of your hands and bends down towards you.

“No! I was just— I was kid— oof! Steve!” You know exactly what he’s planning to do and you start giggling nervously, but you can barely get a sentence out before he’s hauling you over his shoulder in one quick movement. He’s even stronger than he looks, and you know he’s not gonna drop you, despite the shriek you let out.

“Shhh!!” he laughs loudly as he makes his way to your bedroom, hands squeezing your legs just shy of meanly, “Bee just fell asleep!”

“Then put me down, Steve!” you huff, feigning irritation as you hit his back lightly, shying away from the door frame as he pushes your bedroom door open. “If you drop me, I’m gonna divorce y—“

You’re cut off again, this time as Steve drops you onto the bed. He does it carefully, only letting go of you when you’re a short distance from the mattress. He’s hovering over you in a second, a hand on hip and a ridiculously handsome smirk on his face, "What was that?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Harrington."

[luimagines]

You Call to Him in Your Sleep Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Time, Wild and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Time

Time was a light sleeper these days.

He took a while to fall asleep and he was easy to wake up. It’s why he always offered to take either the first or second shift off of the bat. He might as well. He was going to be awake anyway.

But what he hasn’t seemed to figure out yet was what to do once he wakes up in the middle of the night despite having only slept for an hour or two.

He sits up and rubs his face. It’s still incredibly dark out and the only other person awake is Wild- although he seems to be struggle to stay awake during his shift.

Time sighs.

He stands, clearing away his bed roll as quietly as he can before he makes his way over to Wild. Time shakes his shoulders gently and the young hero jolts awake, instantly putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Easy.”

Wild looks up with blearily eyes before he wakes up more. “I wasn’t sleeping! I was just-”

“Go sleep.” Time says gently. “I can take your shift.”

“But what about-?”

“I’m already up. I won’t be falling asleep again any time soon.” Time gently guides him away from the fire. Wild doesn’t seem too happy about this but he’s so tired. He’ll put a little extra treat in his breakfast when he wakes up again.

Time sits by the fire and looks out on everyone in the meantime. Wild falls asleep instantly, making Time ache for the boy. He sighs and makes himself comfortable.

You shift in your sleep and it catches his attention. You sigh and stretch before rolling over so that your face reaches the fire. 

You’re a little closer than time feels comfortable with. He’s worried that an ember might jump out and land on you or that you might reach out your hand similarly to the stretch you just did but instead put it directly into the flames.

Time gets up again and carefully makes his way over to you. Gently, he pulls you away form the fire, little by little so that you don’t wake up.

“...Link...”

“Shh...” Time replies, not thinking twice about it. “It’s ok. It’s just me.”

“Time?” Your voice changes and Time snaps to your face. You’re waking up.

Time takes the liberty of moving you a little faster now, embarrassed that he’s woken you up. “Easy, love. Just making sure you’re ok. Go back to sleep.”

You miss the pet name and furrow your eyebrows at him. The looks makes him nervous. Luckily, you seem to be too tired to care and simply toss your arm over your eyes before falling asleep again.

Time lets out a quiet sigh of relief and tucks you back into your bed roll. He steps away, making sure that you’re still not too close to the flames before retreating back to where he was before.

He’s not sure what caused you to say his name- because you had only noticed he was there after you had said it. But he’s... not going to think too much about it. Nope. He’s just here for the rest of Wild’s shift and maybe Hyrule’s as well. He’s not going to be sleeping much any more anyway.

Wild

Wild was busy trying to make breakfast for the rest of the group so he wasn’t exactly aware of his surroundings when it happened.

He had to think of an appropriate meal for breakfast and he had to check if he had enough supplies to make enough for everyone to eat their fill before they all set off for the journey they would no doubt continue on afterwards.

He was peeling some potatoes when he heard you.

“Link.”

His head snaps up to your direction, wondering you needed him for something. But you’re not even looking in his direction. Was there another one you were actually talking to? He looks around, trying to find the other Link awake, if there was one. Well- Four was awake as well but he wasn’t in the camp right now. He had left to take care of some business so Wild was supposed to be holding down the fort, so to speak.

“Yeah?” Wild calls back to you just in case.

You don’t respond.

He frowns but looks back down to continue peeling the potato. Maybe he was just hearing things. Although he could have sworn that it was you calling him. Or at least calling one of them. Weird.

He finishes adding what he hopes are enough potatoes and starts to cut up some carrots to add to the meal. He looks back at the supplies he has on hand. He doesn’t have enough to feed everyone a decent breakfast so he’s going to have to improvise and add things that weren’t originally in the recipe.

Oh well, as long as it still tastes good in the end.

“Champion...”

Wild slips and cuts his finger on the knife.

“God-!” He instinctively put his finger to his mouth, already lamenting his dropped knife. “Yes? What is it?”

You don’t respond.

Annoyed and a little irritated, Wild gets up from where he was cooking and makes his way over to you at last. Clearly, this what you wanted. Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling so much. You want him to come to you? Fine. He’s on his way.

“Yes? What is it? You keep calling-” Wild stops in his track. You’re still sleeping.

He feels himself freeze for a moment as he processes the situation. Are you messing with him? It’s a bit too early for this. He pokes you with his foot.

You grunt and stir, blinking your eyes open. You don’t look happy to have been woken up. “Yes? What?”

Wild coughs. Oh dear, you were talking in your sleep. You were calling him in your sleep. You were  calling him in your sleep.

“Wild, what is it?” You ask again, growing irritated as well.

“Uh...” He says intelligently. “How many eggs to you want for breakfast?”

“...Two.” You close your eyes again.

Wild feels himself blush as he moves away from you. Goodness. What does he do with this information? Is this a good thing? He hopes it’s a good thing. It certainly sounded like a good thing.

He blushes darker.

He guesses he has to make everyone else eggs now. It wasn’t in the plans but he’s going to stick with it.

....God, you sounded cute. 

Hyrule

Hyrule was tired.

The battle was tough and there were many injuries to keep track of and to heal. He was thankful that there enough potions throughout the group to take care of the worse of it but not everyone could be covered by that alone and there were only so many potions to go around.

You had taken a bad hit and were quick to try and sleep to lessen the damage.

Hyrule would have personally advised against it but since it wasn’t anywhere near the head, he doubted that it would have made any difference. It would only slow your heartrate down and thus slow down your loss of blood at best.

He made his way over to you and kneeled by your side. Hyrule shook his head free of exhaustion, not wanting to do anything damaging to you while you were sleeping. He had to focus. He’ll heal you up then go to bed, he promises himself that. It’s the last one.

He starts up the spell and allows it to go through you and heal what has been hurt, to change the fates design. To save what has been lost and to bring back what once was min- yours. Yours.

Hyrule shakes his head again. He must be worse off than he initially thought.

He huffs and wipes the sweat off of his brow. Maybe he should go take a dip in the nearby river first. Would that help? So long as he doesn’t immediately sleep with his hair wet he should be fine. How long until Wild said that dinner would be ready again-?

“Link.” You grunt and roll over.

Hyrule’s heart instantly starts pounding for reason he’s not quite sure of. He hasn’t been talking. Did he accidentally wake you up? Can a healing magic spell wake you up? It normally doesn’t wake up the others when he tries. But is it different for you? A lot of things seem to act different around you.

You don’t wake up and instead flop your hand pathetically to your side.

Hyrule lets the spell drop. There’s not much left to heal anyway. He’s tapped out. He sighs of relief and exhaustion. He gets off of his knees, dusting himself off as he does so. Alright. Time to throw himself in the river, eat some food then he can finally go to bed.

“Hyrule...” You mutter and roll over again. You sigh a little. “...Traveler...”

The man in question freezes right in his tracks.

He waits for any other reaction from you but you don’t give him any. You stay sleeping.

Hyrule suddenly feels the need to walk away quickly- but not too quickly or else that might give the others the idea that something has happened. And nothing has happened! He’s completely fine! Everything is fine!

Luckily the river isn’t that far away from the group. He hopes it’s cold. Hyrule could go for a cold dip about now. And a nap. Maybe just go straight to bed.

[artdcnaldson]

some gross nasty here for u (hope ur feeling ok btw, lmk if theres anything i can do)

dom art. and i dont mean like, sweet dom art, im talking ab mean art! like it's a mutually destrictive situation - he's married, you're his fucking babysitter for fuckssake - but tashis cheated on him again, and he’s pent-up and hes angry and hes stressed. and right now, the only place he has any semblance of control over his own life is the bedroom. his own dirty little secret. and you're drowning in college debt and more than stressed, yourself, and it feels so, so good to give up and give someone else the reins for a while, to throw up your hands and say, im off. just you and art. well, his cock, anyway. and if he slides you a little more money here and there to help with the bills, well, it's not like him or his wife will miss it !

art manages to keep it secret from tashi. somehow. in fact, when you're alone with him in the hotel, cross-legged on the floor watching 'encanto' for the hundredth time with lily and singing along, he can almost pretend it's you he's married to, you he wakes up to in the morning, you who raises his baby girl. but that's ridiculous, because try as he might to feel anything other than lust for you, he can't. his heart belongs to tashi, belongs to the heavy metal band on his finger. and all those sweet domestic fantasies inevitably give way to his true desires - you he bends over the kitchen counter, you who kneels before him after practice, you who he fills up with hot cum whenever he needs. and he knows you don't feel anything remotely sweet for him, either, because sometimes you're unavailable because you're on a date, and because to you, art donaldson is a risque fantasy, a way to get your rocks off, and a fat check.

and that was fine. its was totally okay.

until fucking patrick came back. and suddenly, after new rochelle, patrick's swinging around all the time and you two can't just sneak off like you used to because while tashi can be preoccupied with brand deals and press tours and media circuts, patrick has nothing better to do than to follow art around all day. you don’t care, you're just salty about the loss of your dick appointment and the pay.

once, you get close to catching them. you can hear it - patricks short, staccato breaths, the low rumble of his groans, and art. art, unlike anything you've ever heard before, art, undone in a way you didn't totally suspect was possible. art, whining into his pillows, practically begging for it-- you pull away from the door. take your hand off the knob. step away, and send a stray toy of lily's rolling. clattering. you freeze. the sounds stop.

then, art, cool as ever, the commanding tone you're painfully familiar with, "come on in, baby, i know you're out there."

it's how you end up between them. it's how patrick finds out about arts dominant streak (he thinks it's hot, even if hes much more of a brat than you are, and art enjoys knocking him down a peg). more accurately, it's how you end up beneath them, begging for them to just take you both. art orchestrating the whole thing, telling patrick when to put his dick in you, where and when patrick is allowed to cum, that he can't finish until you have, at least twice. on his face/fingers, then on his dick. patrick has to wear a condom though. even if it doesn't mean much, you're still art's.

-kit ♡♡♡

You ate <3 Soemthing is soooo yummy about being used by Art and using him back <3 Nothing more than a paycheck and a dick for you to play with <3

You’re so sexually pent up by the time you walk in on them that you’d have gotten on your knees and begged to join if Art hadn’t instructed you to. It’s annoying, how domineering and commanding he can still be while taking Patrick Zweig’s dick in his ass.

That first time, you’re beneath Art— you let him bury himself in your pussy. Each time Patrick thrusts, it sends Art pushing deeper into you. It’s heavy and hot beneath Art’s body weight, and you just lay there and take it. Watching Patrick from over Art’s shoulder, smirking at him as he reduces Art to fucked-out moans and whimpers as he gets closer and closer. You think it’s crazy— you never get Art like that, you get Art all possessive and intense, not malleable and needy.

When Art cums, you have to finish yourself off— it was more about him than you. Patrick watches your fingers move between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he continues to fuck into Art and chase his finish. You cum first, and you look so fucking pretty that he can’t help it.

Patrick likes you. Art likes you. Art likes Patrick. Patrick likes Art. But Art isn’t going to let you and Patrick be together alone. He’s no crazy, you’re his plaything, his employee. So he directs Patrick’s fingers, mouth, cock, all with the express purpose of pleasuring you.

There are no secret whispers, no chemistry he can’t see. Just Patrick listening to Art’s commands and you falling apart on the brunet’s tongue, on his cock. When you finish, you go and curl up against Art and thank him like he’d done it. You tell him you’ve missed him and he smiles affectionately, like he would smile at a cute pet doing a trick for him.

@gamesetart

[talaok]

Hey. I have an idea for pedro and reader

The reader's ex calls her in the middle of the night begging her back to him and the reader gets out the bedroom trying not to wake pedro up and avoid any fight but he wakes up and gets jealous and angry

Jealous Pedro is my own personal curse lol, I genuinely don’t get why you like him. But for you? Anything babes. Also, happy ending won in the poll, but thanks to an anon I've decided to write both endings bc I'm an asshole

warnings: jealousy, angst

Pt.2

Oh fuck please not again.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you didn’t even need to look at the caller to know who it was.

Only one person would call you at 4:45 am. the same one that had been flooding you with texts and calls for a week now.

You had been ignoring him, telling yourself that “It’s just a phase” and “it’ll pass”, but god, had you been wrong.

You and Jason had broken up two years ago now, and casually, just when you had finally made your relationship with Pedro public, he felt the need to connect with you again.

That's not how Jason had always been, he was once caring and fun and everything you needed... until he wasn't.

He hadn't taken your breaking up with him well, and you tried to be understanding of it, god knows you had been in the same position too once or twice, your heart broken, your mind confused- but then when after two months he'd still call you crying, you decided to give him a little tough love by texting him something that could be summarized in "I know you're hurt but this is getting kind of ridiculous at this point" and by blocking him.

Somewhere after that, for some godforsaken reason, you had decided to unblock him, and to really show off your decision-making skills, you even answered the phone when he had called you last week, finding him in tears, begging for a second chance.

If you were anyone to judge, this call wasn't gonna be much different, but this story had to end at one point, and as you got up from the bed, sneaking out of the room as Pedro breathed soft snores into the air, you decided the time had come.

"Jason?" you whispered, tiptoeing to the living room.

"baby? Oh my god it's really you, I've been trying to call you"

"yeah I saw" you stated, not short of sarcasm

"Oh t-that's ok, you were busy I jus-"

"no Jason I wasn't busy, this is inappropriate"

"Wha-what are you talking about baby, I love you" 

there went the tears again

"Jason I'm sorry alright, but I don't, I have a boyfriend, I'm happy"

"no you don't understand babe I can't live without you, I love you more than life y/n, more than anything... I- I need you"

"Jason we broke up a long time ago. It's over. It has been for a while now"

"you don't mean that baby, we love each other, remember how good we were together? I know you do"

"stop calling me baby and stop calling me in general Jason. I don't love you and I don't want to get back together" Your voice raised to a whispery-yell as you got more frustrated.

"Why are you whispering- Is he there? Let me talk to him"

"why would I do that? What would you even want to tell him?"

"I'm sure I can make him understand, man to man y'konw-"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Jason stop calling me"

"but bab-"

"No. No buts, it's over. we're never getting back together. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to sleep, and I suggest you do the same"

"y/n please- I love you, I need you I-"

"goodnight Jason. Don't call me again" You didn't give him time to finish as you hung up, throwing your phone on the couch and closing your eyes as you took a very well-deserved deep breath.

Fuck this shit man.

"Who was it?"

You jumped on your feet, a shiver of fear running down your spine as you turned towards the ominous voice.

"Pedro-" you sighed, taking in his sleep-filled expression.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you" he apologized, with a soft chuckle "Who were you talking to?"

shit

"uh- don't worry, it was no one"

"I don't think it was no one if you got up at 4 in the morning to answer, did something happen?"

"no-no nothing like that, it's stupid, don't worry"

He frowned as he studied your expression, clearly confused at your secrecy.

"Who was it?"

Your eyes focused behind him at the glimpse of your room the opened door granted.

Everything was fine just 10 minutes ago...

"It was Jason"

Pedro paused a moment, taken aback by your answer

"Jason as in your ex-boyfriend Jason?" he asked "And why exactly was Jason calling you in the middle of the night?"

"it's not what you think" 

This was why you didn't want him to know.

He had a history with unfaithfulness, the woman before you had cheated on him multiple times and left him hurt and bruised, and it was hard for him to fully trust you - or anyone for that matter- after that.

you didn't want him to close off again, you trusted each other, and you feared this would have given him a reason to get back to old habits.

"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"

"no, let me explain-" you got closer to him.

"I'm so fucking stupid" he huffed, not listening to you 

"no you're not, just-listen to me" you said, putting a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm him down

He watched you, hurt and anger in his eyes, but he took a breath, nodding as he grumbled a "fine"

"He's been calling me for a while-"

"is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Baby, let me talk" you reminded him, and he gave you another non-enthusiastic nod "He's been calling me since I made our relationship public, saying that he wants to get back with me and that he loves me..." you paused, glancing at the way he tightened his fists by his side "and I've been ignoring him because-" your lips turned into a soft smile as you reached for his hand "...well because I've got you, and I don't want anybody else in the world except you"

You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your mouth to leave a quick kiss on it.

"and the only reason why I answered tonight is because I was sick of it, and I wanted to tell him once and for all that we're done because I love you, and only you Pedro" You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek "I promise"

You saw the way your words affected him.

And as much as he tried to fight it, you were always the only one able to calm him down, even when his worst fear came to life. Because he loved you, but most importantly... he trusted you.

"are you telling the truth?" he finally asked, as if in his mind he wasn't praying for you to be doing just that.

He didn't want to lose you, he couldn't.

"I am baby. I swear" 

His eyes left yours for a second as he took a deep breath

"why didn't you tell me? I would have done something, I would have gone have a talk with that asshole"

You let out a small laugh

"yeah, a talk" you teased, raising your eyebrows "And besides it didn't matter, it was just a stupid thing not worth your time"

he took your other hand in his, shaking his head

"if he, or anybody else, does this again you tell me, ok?" 

As much as you wanted to joke about how many crazy exes he believed you had, you decided this wasn't the time.

"ok" you smiled "I promise"

"good" he nodded, bending down to ghost your lips "Now let's go to bed so I can remind you of a few things I'm sure I'm better at than Jason"

__ __ __

or... (angst with no happy ending)

__ __ __

"It's not what you think"

"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"

"It was just a phone call Pedro, just let me explain"

"A phone call with your ex-boyfriend"

"yes, exactly my ex-boyfriend"

"This is unbelievable," he huffed, passing a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture "I fucking trusted you. You made me trust you, and then... then you go screw that fucking asshole behind my back"

"I'm not screwing anybody"

"sure you aren't" he turned to walk away, but you grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me"

"To what? more lies?" he snapped 

"No Pedro I can explain if you just let me talk"

"I don't need an explanation, I know exactly what's going on, just- leave me, I'll go"

"Just like that?" you questioned "You don't even wanna hear me out for a second? You so easily lose all the trust you had in me?"

"Can you blame me?" 

"This is ridiculous, I've answered the phone to tell him to stop calling, that's the only reason why! I'm not cheating on you" you spoke, your tone getting louder "And the fact that you came to that conclusion so quickly is fucking insulting"

"right" he snickered "so you answered the phone at four in the morning to tell him to stop calling, very believable y/n" he shook his head "and to think you're a fucking actress"

"fuck you Pedro" you spat out "You know what? I deserve someone who trusts me, who lets me fucking speak and explain myself, not someone who at the first mistake throws me out like trash"

"And I deserve someone who's not a cheater. Guess we both deserve better"

"I guess we do"