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#much love i hope y'all enjoy <3
johnsbleu · 3 months
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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 173
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warnings: dual pov, nsfw moments hmh masterlist
Y/N is always pretty good when it comes to scary movies. Usually she’s walking through the dark house after watching one and she’s completely fine. Not tonight. Maybe it’s because we’re at a different house and not at our home where she knows every nook and cranny, but she’s pretty freaked out. She picked the movie and she’s trying to be so brave, but I can tell she’s scared, which is why I’m staying a little closer to her. If I can make her feel safe, then I’ve done my job.
We decided to sit out on the back deck for a little bit, and she’s looking over her shoulder every few minutes. I reach over and pull her chair closer to me, then I drape my arm over her lap and lean in to kiss her, hoping she feels safer.
“Getting tired?”
Y/N nods, “Yeah, we spent so much time in the sun today. I think I’m drained.”
I get up and reach for her hands, then I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder as she laughs. One of these days I’m going to be too old to do that, but it’s not any time soon, so I plan on doing it until my back breaks from old age. I open the sliding door, lock it behind me, then head to the front door and lock that one too. Y/N kicks her legs playfully, so I spank her.
“Stop that.”
“No!” she laughs, so I squeeze right under her butt where I know she’s ticklish. She screams so loud with laughter that I have to put her down so I don’t drop her.
I wrap my arms around her and lean down to kiss her as we walk back to the room, and she reaches down to undo my belt.
“Oh, is this what we’re doing tonight?”
She looks up at me and nods, “No different than the last two nights. I want as much uninterrupted sex as I can get.”
“Sounds good to me.” I whisper as I kiss her, “Really putting that new birth control to work, huh?”
Y/N tilts her head back and laughs loudly, “I’m glad I got the IUD instead of those stupid pills. Though, did you know there was a woman who didn’t realize that her IUD had fallen out and she ended up getting pregnant?”
I slouch a little and let out a big breath as I look at her, “Peach…”
“Sorry,” she laughs quietly, then she starts undoing my belt. I lean down to kiss her neck, and she begins to laugh, “Did I ruin the mood?”
I look at her as she laughs, “No.”
Even though she’s laughing, I lean down and suck on her neck, moving my hand down between her legs and rubbing her over her pajama bottoms. I slip my hand into her underwear, and she immediately stops laughing and lets her head loll back. I lay her down on the bed and pull her pajama bottoms off, along with her underwear, then I kneel down in front of the bed and smirk when she looks up at me as I pull her closer to my mouth, diving in deep for just a moment to give a taste of what to expect.
“You done talking now?” I whisper against her thigh, and she whimpers as she nods. “Good.”
__
**
You shoot up in bed when you hear a sound coming from the deck, and you reach over and shake John’s shoulder. He’s completely sound asleep, which yes, is flattering since he literally rolled over after kissing you goodnight, saying he loved you and immediately fell asleep. But now you need him awake right this minute!
“John!” you shake his shoulder, and he hums, “There’s someone outside.”
“No, there isn’t.”
You scoff and shake his shoulder, “Yes, there is. I keep hearing something hit metal.”
“I just got up to pee. There’s no one here.” he rolls over to his right side and pulls you into his arms, “Go to sleep, baby.”
“Wow, thanks for protecting your wife.” you glare at him in the dark even though he can’t see you. “You’ll feel like shit when someone breaks in and murders me.”
John laughs sleepily, “No one is breaking in, peach.”
You sigh loudly and lay down next to him, then you stare up at the ceiling, just waiting for the noise again because you know it’s going to happen. After a few minutes, you finally start to feel your eyes grow heavy, and you start to fall asleep. Just as your eyes close, you hear the noise again and sit up.
“I’m awake!” John groans and sits up. “I heard it too, and after mentioning someone murdering you, I got paranoid.”
You smile softly when he turns on the light, “I love you.”
“I love you too. Stay here.” he rubs his knuckle against his eye and walks out of the bedroom in his boxers with absolutely no fear of what he could find outside--he’d have it handled with no problems. Even in boxers.
God, it’s hot. If you weren’t so scared, you’d definitely go down on him when he comes back into the bedroom. On second thought, you definitely will if there’s nothing outside.
You pull your knees close to your chest and watch the doorway, then you furrow your brow when you hear the noise again and John laughing.
“What? Oh, god, be careful! John! Please be careful. Are you okay? What happened?”
Wow, you’re spiraling.
“Come here, baby.” he calls from the other room, and you immediately get up and rush out to him. He’s still laughing when you get to him, “This is what you’ve been so scared of all night.”
You scrunch your brows and walk over to see what John is pointing at, and you gasp and laugh when you see a small fluffy kitten playing with a string from your towel draped over the chair. Every so often, as it swats at the string, it bumps into the metal of the rain spout. That’s the noise you’ve been hearing all night.
You turn to John and cross your arms, “Told you someone was outside.”
“Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” he laughs as he kisses your forehead.
The kitten meows and walks over to rub up against John’s leg, and you grin and look up at John. He takes a deep breath and laughs since he already knows what you’re going to ask.
“Listen to me,” he laughs as you reach down and pick up the fluffy kitten, “If this kitten is here by the morning, we can keep him.”
“He’s hungry, John!”
“We don’t know that.” John laughs, then he gestures to the yard, “Maybe he has a momma around here. We’ve seen a ton of cats since we’ve been here--tons of kittens even!”
You pout a little, “But look at him. He’s so thin. I can feel his ribs.”
“Baby, it’s so late right now.” he closes his eyes, then he looks at you and exhales as a smile spreads on his face when you pout, “I don’t know why I’m fighting this.”
You hold the kitten up in front of John as it meows, “Look at him, he’s so cute.”
“He is pretty cute,” he admits, and you smile.
“I’m keeping him.” you say, happily walking past, and John laughs as he nods. “What are you going to do? Say no to me?”
John shakes his head, “I wouldn’t dream of it. You know I can’t.”
He opens the door for you and locks it when you get inside, then he kisses your cheek and smiles softly as you talk to the kitten.
“What are you going to feed him?”
“I don’t know.” you shrug and open the fridge, “Cats don’t actually drink milk. I’ll give him some water, but…I don’t have anything to feed to him.”
John opens the fridge and holds up the chicken that he had bought at the store earlier to grill out tomorrow, “You could boil this. Give him a little. It’s probably not great, but it’s something. We can go to the store tomorrow and get some food.”
You smile at John and watch him grab a pot and fill it with water before dropping a chicken breast into it. He puts the other chicken breasts away and turns to you, smiling when you lock eyes with him.
“God, you’re so cute. It’s dangerous, I hope you know that.” he says, leaning down to kiss you. “It’s 3 in the morning and I’m in the kitchen boiling chicken for some kitten we just found, and I already know we’re bringing him home.”
“Come on, he’s cute!” you hold him up and smile when he nibbles on your finger, “We can take him to the vet when we get home and make sure he’s okay.”
John nods, “What if he has a momma out there and she’s looking for him?”
“Well, we’re here for a few more days. I’ll ask around.” you get up and snuggle the kitten as you walk to John, “But until then, he stays here.”
“You putting your foot down?” John jokes, and you stomp your foot playfully. “Ronan’s going to be very happy with her birthday present.”
You look at him and laugh, “This isn’t your anniversary gift to me?”
“I mean…it can be!” he laughs, then he shrugs, “My gift is kind of shit anyway.”
You hold the kitten in your right arm tucked close to your chest, then you lean up and kiss John, “You’re a really good man. Now finish boiling that chicken, so we can feed this baby, then…I have a surprise for you.”
John perks up, “What’s that?”
“As long as you aren’t tired…” you back away and seductively wipe your finger against your bottom lip before looking down lower to John’s boxers.
“Lucky for you, I’m fully awake now.” he smiles, and you wink at him.
__
Since the kitten is pretty small, you didn’t want him to have full range of the house. There’s too much stuff that he could get into, plus he has been outside so you don’t know if he has fleas or not; you didn’t notice any when you were holding him, but you can’t be too safe. You folded up a few towels and made a little bed for him in the bathroom, then you put his water in there with him as well.
You were barely able to contain yourself this morning, so you got up quickly and changed your clothes to go see the little kitten. When you went into the bathroom, he was still sleeping, so you let him be--after checking to make sure he was still alive, of course.
John was in a pretty good mood despite you waking him up at three in the morning, most likely because he got a little bit of a treat before going back to sleep. The two of you went to the store and got some things for the kitten. You bought some food, a few toys, and some shampoo to wash away any possible fleas. John won’t admit it, but he’s excited about the newest family member, and you know he is because he picked out a cute little collar for him.
“Do we even know if it’s a boy?” he asks as you get out of the car.
You shrug, “I couldn’t tell, but I’ll look again. Either way, Baby Cat is going to look so cute in that collar.”
“Are we really going with Baby Cat?”
“Until Ro can name him.” you say as you open the door, “I’m blanking on names at the moment.”
John holds the door open and laughs, “Ro doesn’t know very many words yet.”
“Then let’s hope she doesn’t name the cat ‘dada’.” you say, and John smiles. “We already have a fish and an actual dada with that name.”
Before you can even drop the bags off at the table, you rush over and open the bathroom door, then you look down as the little kitten prances out into the living room. John kneels down and wiggles his fingers, and the kitten stops and wiggles his little butt before he pounces at John’s hands.
“Ro is going to love this,” John says, and you nod as you sit down on the couch and go through the bag.
The kitten walks over and tries to jump up to the couch, but he barely gets two inches off the ground. You reach down and pick him up, then you take out the toys and offer them to him.
“He’s so tiny,” John says as he sits down, “I wonder if he was the runt, which reminds me, I was going to go talk to the people a few doors down. I saw some cats outside their door.”
You frown a little, “I hope they don’t want him back. Well, I shouldn’t say that. If they want him back and actually want to take care of him, then we’ll give him back, but…”
John leans over and kisses your temple, “I’ll go talk to them.”
“I’m gonna give him a bath, then I’ll get some lunch started for us,” you say as he gets up, and he leans over and kisses you.
“Off to go bribe someone to let us keep their cat.” he says, and you look over your shoulder at him and laugh. “Anything for my girls, though.”
__
You’ve just sat on the couch with the kitten when you hear the door open. You look down at the kitten with his eyes closed as you take the towel and dry him off, and you melt a little when you hear him purring. John leans down and kisses the top of your head, then he sits with you and smiles when he sees the kitten lying on your chest as you dry him.
“Give me the news.”
John laughs, then he takes a deep breath, “Well, there is a momma cat, but momma cat has been…having lots of kittens lately and is getting fixed soon. So, I talked to them and they said that if we found a kitten, we’re more than welcome to take him.”
Your heart bursts as you sit up, “Really?”
“Yes.” he nods, reaching over to pet the cat, “It’s better that we take him than something bad happening to him. I told them that our daughter would be thrilled--and that my wife would be pretty happy too.”
“We get to keep you!” you say to the kitten, then you kiss him and hug him. Your eyes snap open and you look at John, “New family member!”
John furrows his brow, “Huh?”
“The psychic said we’d have a new family member and that it might not be a baby,” you hold up the kitten and smile at John, “New family member!”
“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding his head, “Even more reason to believe her.”
You lean over and kiss him a few times, “It’s a boy, by the way. Found that out while I gave him a bath.”
John laughs, “Can’t wait to see what Ro names him.”
“We might just have to think of something.” you say, and John nods his head, still petting the kitten. You look at John and smile softly, “Thank you for this. I know we talked about getting her a kitten later on when she’s older, but…he kind of fell into our lap.”
Letting out a small laugh, John reaches over and touches your chin, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip, “I would give you anything you ask for. You know that.”
“I don’t ask for anything,” you shake your head and look into his eyes, “I just ask for you to love me.”
“You don’t have to ask me to do that,” he whispers as he leans closer, “Loving you is as easy as breathing.”
You tear up a little and nod, “I feel the same way. I love you so much.”
“I will give you and Ronan anything you ask for. Whatever you want, you can have. You two have me wrapped around your little fingers.” he says, and you lean over to kiss him. He cups your face and kisses you again with a little more intensity, then he looks down at the kitten sleeping on your chest, “Yeah, I get it, little guy, her boobs are great.”
“Shut up!” you laugh as you playfully swat John’s arm. “How did you just go from being so romantic to being…a man?”
John scoots over and rests his head on your chest too, “Ah, so cozy.”
“You’re weird.” you say, and John squeezes your breast a little as you laugh.
“Can I ask something and pray like hell you won’t get upset?”
You look at John when he leans up, “We’re keeping this cat.”
“No, no, it’s not about the cat.” he says as he sits up, then he takes a deep breath, “Have I made you feel…unsexy lately?”
“Unsexy? Is that a word?”
John nods earnestly, “I think so.”
“Okay, well, no, you have not made me feel unsexy. Why?”
John takes another deep breath and shrugs, “You just…don’t ever wear lingerie and I thought maybe I made you feel bad about yourself or something. I just want you to always feel good and feel beautiful, because I think you’re the most beautiful person. If I made you feel bad, I’d want you to tell me. I know you feel good when you wear that stuff, so I just…I don’t know. You can hop in to the conversation at any point here.”
You start to smile before you lean over to kiss him a few times, “I don’t wear that stuff because of you, actually.”
“Oh, god.” John puts his head down for a moment, then looks at you, “Tell me what I did. Please.”
“Well,” you set the kitten aside and turn to face John, “The problem usually is I want to wear that stuff because yes, it does make me feel pretty and sexy, but also I know you like it when I wear it. The problem is…you don’t let me get away from you for long enough to actually change into it. When you want me, you want me that moment, which, hey, I’m flattered, but you just don’t give me time!”
John exhales in relief when you smile at him, “So basically you don’t wear it because I need you right that minute?”
“Literally yes.” you laugh as John closes his eyes. You straddle his waist and sit in his lap, “John, you’ve never made me feel anything but beautiful and sexy. I would love to wear lingerie more, but sometimes we need each other right that minute and that’s okay!”
“Did you bring some with?”
You start to grin as you lean forward to kiss him, “Yes.”
“You should wear it tonight.”
Letting out a small laugh, you nod your head before nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “Anything for you.”
__
You bite into an apple slice and squint out at the sun going down. Baby Cat is lying in your lap right now and snoozing away. He won’t stop following John and you around, so it’s nice that he seems to be fine with being away from his momma. You look down at him and pet him, then you reach for an apple slice just as John does. He gestures for you to take one, then he smiles at you.
“Almost three years, peach.” he whispers, and you smile at him. “Three years since I met you. Can’t believe it.”
“Me neither,” you reach for his hand and kiss the back of it, “You make me really fucking happy, I hope you know that. I hope you know how in love with you I am and how I feel like I can be myself with you, and how safe I feel with you. I know talking about how we feel about each other isn’t an unheard of concept in our relationship--we tell each other how much we admire and love each other all the time--but I just really want to tell you that I am so fucking happy that I met you. You’re the best husband I could have ever asked for, and you’re my best friend. On top of being the best husband, you’re my best friend too, which is the most important thing.”
John cups your face and smiles, “I love you, sweetheart. The love of my life and my best friend, how lucky am I?”
“How lucky are we?” you smile, leaning over to kiss him. “You ever think about how different things would be if it hadn’t been me who brought the mail to your house? You could be living in Manhattan with April in a nice apartment or with Tess.”
“Well, for starters, April is a lesbian, so that’s not happening.” he says, and you laugh quietly. “And two, Tess is in love with my best friend and my best friend is in love with her, so that also won’t work. And finally, I am so madly in love with you. It didn’t matter who brought it over to me. I wanted to talk to you. I would have kept putting shit in your mailbox until you came over.”
You smile, “Or until you worked up the courage to talk to me.”
“Yeah, that too.” he grins, then he squeezes your hand, “Peach, you scared me. You still do. All I wanted was you, and I have you now. I’m never gonna take that for granted. You’re everything to me. Everything that I do, every thought that I have, you’re right there in my mind. Every decision I make, I do with you in mind. I mean it, you are everything to me.”
“That’s what I love so much about you, and I’m sure Helen did too.” you say, and he raises his brows, “When you love, you love with your entire heart. It’s really nice to be on the receiving end of that.”
John scoots closer and wraps his arm around you, “You love with your whole heart too. We were both so timid at first, but once we knew that this was real, we were both all in. I only ever want to be all in with you.”
Leaning your head against his shoulder, you close your eyes and smile, feeling the sun warm your cheeks as it dips lower. John presses a kiss to the top of your head and rests his cheek against your forehead.
Three years with this man already, and it’s flown by. Forever won’t even be long enough. Whatever time you get with him won’t be long enough. You can’t focus on it for too long, otherwise you’ll just be upset, so you open your eyes and inhale deeply.
“Can you believe Ro is going to be one?”
John laughs, “I can’t. How the hell do we have a one year old?”
“No clue,” you shake your head, laughing, “But I will say, she is your freaking twin, and I’m totally cool with it. I know she’s only one, but she has all of your good qualities, I swear. She’s sweet and kind, and she’s somehow so patient too. We’re raising a freaking phenomenal little lady.”
“Well, her momma deserves most of the credit here,” he says, tipping his head to you, “You’re doing a great job with her. I see the way she watches you and mimics you. You’re setting a great example for her, and I’m so happy to know my daughter is going to grow up to be just like her mom.”
You smile, “And her dad. He’s a great role model too; he deserves credit too.”
John laughs as he leans over to kiss you, “We’re doing a good job with her, I think.”
“Me too,” you smile, then you start to laugh, “We really just stroked each other's egos for a few moments. Felt great.”
“Sure did, and I’ll do it again.” John smiles, leaning down to kiss you.
Baby Cat stretches out in your lap, then he crawls over to John and stretches out, reaching his little arm out in front of him. John scoops him up and holds him close to his face, and the kitten reaches out to touch John’s nose. John gives his paw a little kiss, then he sets him down and laughs when he sees you watching him.
You grin, “You love Baby Cat.”
“He’s really cute, but I’m not crazy about the name.”
You laugh, “Well, I can’t think of anything! And he’s not getting the typical cat name like, Shadow, Midnight, Fluffy, and shit like that. Ronan needs to name him.”
“She’s going to be so excited to see her kitten,” John pets the cat and looks at you, “And she’ll be excited to see her momma.”
“And her dada.” you whisper, then you lean over to kiss him, “But momma needs daddy to herself for a few more days.”
John laughs as you push him down into the sand and kiss him, “I’m cool with that.”
__
“Time to exchange gifts?” you ask, and John laughs as he holds up the gift-wrapped box for you. You point at the two gifts on the table and he furrows his brow in confusion. “One for our anniversary, one for your birthday.”
John sits next to you and laughs, “Remember we weren’t being completely serious with these gifts.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m aware.” you say, and John nods as he hands the box to you.
You rip along the edge and pull the paper off, then you put it on the floor and smile when Baby Cat immediately pounces on it. John didn’t put too much tape on it, so you don’t have a problem opening the box at all, and you push the tissue paper down and gasp as you hold up the beautiful white and floral robe.
“This is gorgeous,” you rub it against your cheek and smile, “I love this. Thank you!”
John grins, “Cotton.”
“Yeah,” you laugh as you nod, then you lean over to kiss him, “Thank you. You know I love a good robe.”
“I do.” he smiles, watching you grab the box for him. He opens it carefully and tosses the paper down for the kitten, who is in love with the paper and the box from your gift, then John starts to laugh as he holds up the boxers. “Wow.”
You laugh and shrug your shoulders, “Cotton.”
“Yeah, I got that.” he holds them up and starts to laugh even harder at your face printed all over the boxers with ‘MINE’ written in funky letters over the crotch. “Wow, baby, these are…”
“I don’t know! Cotton is such a weird one! All I could think of was blankets and boxers and we don’t need any more blankets, so I just settled on those. I thought you’d think they’re funny.”
John looks down at them, still laughing, “I do think they’re funny. Might even wear them sometime just for you.”
“Oh, can’t wait.” you joke, knowing full well if anyone is wearing them, it’ll be you. You cup his face and kiss him, “Happy anniversary, babe.”
“Happy anniversary.” he cups the back of your neck and presses his lips to yours harder before you pull away and grab his other gift. It’s just in an envelope, so you already know he’s very curious. He opens the envelope and pulls out two tickets, and he widens his eyes and looks at you, “What?”
You shrug, “Thought you and Jimmy would have a good time. Wherever the World Series is going to be this year, you and Jimmy will be there with the best seats--right behind home base.”
“Well, what if I want to bring you?”
“As much as I love doing anything with you, I think I’m going to sit baseball out, especially the World Series. Bring Jimmy. He’ll have a blast. You both will. Make a weekend of it.” you smile at him, and he lets out a small laugh. “Happy birthday.”
John looks over at you and smiles, “Thank you. This is very thoughtful, though I am a little sad you don’t want to come with.”
“Tess and I just want you and Jimmy out of our hair for a weekend.” you joke, and John laughs. “He loves baseball and you do too. And look, I know that…back when you two became closer, it was because he invited you to watch games with him--it’s how you two bonded.”
“You are so sweet,” he says softly, rubbing your back. “Thank you for this.”
You scoot over and rest against his shoulder, “You’re very welcome. Did I do good this year?”
“Well, last year you gave me a baby, so…” he playfully grimaces and clicks his tongue, “I’m gonna need a little more effort next year.”
“You are absolutely not getting another baby next year.”
John jokingly groans before leaning over to kiss you, “Another pair of boxers will do then.”
__
John stands next to you at the counter and begins to help you cut up some veggies for a salad. He leans down and kisses your bare shoulder, and he smiles when you look at him.
“I like this tank top on you.” he says, and you start to laugh. “Looks good.”
“I wonder why you like it so much,” you joke, and John glances at your breasts before he starts to laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
He puts his hand up, still laughing, “It looks great on you. The fact that I can see your nipples through it is just a bonus. You look…hot.”
“I look ‘hot’?” you set the knife down and turn to him, “You think I’m hot?”
John furrows his brow as he laughs incredulously, “Of course I do! I think you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. You’re sexy!”
You burst out laughing until you’re in tears, “God, please, why is this so funny to me?”
“Because you’re weird. Did our conversation about the lingerie tell you nothing?” John says, looking at you with amusement as you laugh. “Of course I think my wife is sexy. Baby, you have no idea how attracted I am to you.”
“I think I have some idea.” you say, squinting your eyes a little before glancing down at the crotch of his pants. You press your hand to your cheek and laugh, “I’m warm. You’ve embarrassed me!”
John smiles proudly, “You’re so cute. Come here.”
You fall into John’s arms as he laughs, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck and inhales your perfume. You close your eyes and smile happily as the two of you hold one another for a few moments before you hear Baby Cat meowing at your feet. You lean back and look at him, and he stretches out before he tries to climb up John’s jeans. John reaches for him and puts him on his shoulder--his new favorite spot to hang out.
It’s actually kind of ridiculous how hot this makes John. He’s already hands down the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and honestly he’s just getting better with age. You were never really into those stupid firefighter calendars--the ones with the guys who clearly aren’t really firefighters posing with kittens and puppies, or they pose shirtless as they bake a cake--but seeing John hold a little kitten and kiss him, yeah, you’d definitely like to see him shirtless and just in his boxers as he poses with the kitten. Hell, even if he was shirtless in the kitchen with a huge mess behind him, you wouldn't mind that.
John is sexy. He’s always been sexy, but seeing him so vulnerable and sweet just makes him so much better--there’s nothing sexier than an emotionally mature man. Seeing him show up for you and Ronan every single day, seeing him with her, seeing how he goes out of his way for you on days when you struggle a little, all of that just makes you all the more attracted to him.
It sure doesn't hurt that he looks the way he looks, of course. His beard is still dark, but he does have some gray that is poking through here and there. His hair as well. His skin is amazing--you’re definitely still trying to figure out his secret for great skin. He’s still tall and lean with a little more muscle now than before since he’s been doing so much work around the house. He looks even better now than he did before, which is mind-boggling since he looked gorgeous before.
“Hey,” John taps your chin and smiles at you, “Where did you go?”
“I was just thinking about how sexy you are.” you say, and John scoffs. You hold his gaze and nod your head, “I’m not kidding. I was just thinking about how sexy you are and how sexy you’ve gotten.”
John perks up, “Really now?”
“Yeah, genuinely,” you look up at him, smiling, “You know how you always say that you’re more attracted to me now than before, and then you quickly add in that you were very attracted to me before so you don’t upset me?”
He starts to laugh, “Yeah.”
“That’s how I feel.” you say, and he chuckles, “Seeing you as a dad, seeing you be so vulnerable with me, seeing you so emotionally mature, seeing you with a tiny little kitten on you…”
“It’s hot?”
You laugh, “Yeah! I don’t know, John, you’re just getting more and more attractive to me. I like it a lot. I like that we haven’t lost our spark. Sure, we’ve had our little spurts where we’re not as intimate, but it’s not because we don’t want to be. We might just be a little more busy or tired, but it’s never been because we’re not into each other anymore--not for me at least.”
John laughs when you smirk and shrug your shoulder, “Oh, you know it hasn’t been for me either, you little shit.”
“Excuse you!” you laugh as John smiles at you, “You’re a little shit!”
“Nope,” he shakes his head and places Baby Cat back onto the ground where he quickly runs off to play with a toy, “You are a little shit.”
You scoff, turning your nose up jokingly, “I am not.”
“You are,” he pulls you to him and leans down to kiss you, “You’re my little shit.”
Letting out a small laugh, you kiss John as he helps you onto the counter, then he spreads your legs and steps between them as you two make out. You wrap your legs around him and pull him closer, and he lets out a small moan. His hands are warm on your back, and you shiver when you feel him slip one hand under your tank top.
Rain has been pattering against the windows all day so you’ve been cooped up inside, but you sure don’t mind. You really don’t mind when you have John in front of you to keep you entertained. Whether that’s with conversation or sex, whatever time you spend with him is well spent. Lying on the couch watching TV or reading, chatting about complete nonsense, or reminiscing about things from the past, as long as you’re with John, it’s perfect.
“Hey,” you lean back and look into his gorgeous brown eyes, “I love you.”
John’s finger trails along your jawline as he smiles, “I love you too.”
“We were making dinner,” you whisper, and he laughs as he looks down at his left hand resting on your breast, “I think we got a little sidetracked.”
“You’re very distracting, Mrs. Wick.”
A smile spreads on your face as you hold his gaze. You gently remove his hand from your chest and pull your tank top off, tossing it aside. John inhales deeply as he takes you in, and you reach for his hands again and place them both on your chest.
“Sorry for being so distracting.”
“You can distract me anytime.”
You start to laugh, “You’ve seen my boobs how many times?”
“Lots…” he nods, still staring at your chest as his fingers trail about your soft skin, “Lots of times. Still doesn’t matter how many times I see them, I fucking love them!”
You smile at him, “Still obsessed with my piercing, I see.”
John nods as he looks up at you with your nipple in his mouth, “Yes. Very.”
“When we get home--”
“I don’t want to talk about going home. We have a few more days. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We can’t go home yet,” you shake your head and reach up to cup John’s face, “You still haven’t fucked me in that amazing shower yet.”
John pulls you closer and lifts you off the counter, “We have time now.”
“We were supposed to be making something to eat.” you say, and John starts to smirk.
“You have something I can eat,” he replies, low and velvety, and you bite your lip, “And you definitely want me to, don’t you?”
You hug him tighter, “Well, you certainly are the best at it.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispers, and you close your eyes as he sucks on your neck. “I need to hear you moan for me, and I need it to be loud.”
You chuckle as John lays you back on the bed, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that.”
John hovers over you and smiles before he begins kissing down your body, getting himself situated between your legs. He pulls your shorts down and tosses them aside as he licks his lips, then he pulls your underwear off and smiles. He moves his hand up your stomach to rest between your breasts, then he leans down and buries his face, causing you to immediately moan loudly. “Good girl.”
“Remember how you wanted me to wear lingerie?” you say, and John laughs between your legs, “This is the problem right here, John.”
“You want me to stop?” he asks, leaning up to look at you as you start to smile and shake your head. He moves back between your legs, “Good because I don’t want to either.”
__
taglist: @lilithlinen @ladyren33 @multifandombliss @ruby-octo @tnu-ree @scream-queen-25 @beingnerdyissupercool @sakurachan-9
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habitual-creatures · 20 days
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Literally me whenever someone sends an ask:
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/pos, y'all make me so happy.
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lususnatura · 14 days
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🎤
a song that i associate with my muse meme!
AHH, hello, chrome!! thank you for the ask (: i appreciate you guys sending these in SOOO much, tbh, but allow me to introduce y'all to a new BANGER that is kind of sad and yet... i think it captures one part of blamore's character that i haven't really talked about before (an explanation as to why i associate this song with my muse will be in the tags):
sade - is it a crime.
youtube
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multi-lefaiye · 1 year
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a modern ghost story - wip re-intro
finally, a re-intro for my first ever writeblr wip intro... waow how time flies.
taglist (i'm gonna be real with y'all, i lost track of the taglist and had to dig it up again--tentatively tagging the original taglist as well as folks i thought might be interested): @albatris @skitzo-kero @anexor @lychniscitrus @transmasc-wizard @chaieyestea @vacantgodling @kingkendrick7 @jezifster @manuscriptsatmidnight @fictionalbullshitter @astral-runic
(if you'd like to not be tagged in posts relating to this wip going forward, lmk!!! <3 and if you'd like to be added to the actual taglist, also lmk!!!)
synopsis: A Modern Ghost Story is the tale of the four members of The Cyclone Seekers, a group of semi-famous storm-chasers, and their harrowing adventures chasing after storms in Nebraska in 2006. On the way, they quickly come to learn that they have far, far more than tornadoes to worry about waiting for them in the storms. Something sinister is afoot, and their past may come back to haunt them in a very literal way.
setting: various fictional locations in Nebraska, United States, in 2006
genres: postmodern horror (?) with traces of comedy--fundamentally a road trip story, though, about healing and facing the horrors head-on.
vibes except it's not clear what these mean: late nights at sleepovers where no one wants to go to bed yet, a mason jar full of bottle caps, the highs and lows of a long road trip with your friends, strange messages on the radio in a voice you thought you'd forgotten, the past is always one step closer than it appears to be, the coppery taste of blood on your tongue, your heart pounding in your ears as the world roars around you, a group of queer adrenaline junkies, "therapy is expensive, but sitting in your car while it rains is free."
characters:
picrew: [link]
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Roach - 29 - they/them - 5'2"
Roach is not the face of Cyclone Seekers, as they find the idea of actually appearing on camera daunting. For the most part, Roach prefers to stay behind the scenes, most often handling their budget, equipment, and transportation, as well as acting as their cameraman. A lifelong smartass, they always say exactly what's on their mind and they're not particularly graceful or tactful. Why would they be, after all? Talking around the point only wastes time, and Roach hates to stop when there's important shit to get done.
Despite their blunt and often rude nature, Roach has a big heart deep down, and they care deeply for their fellow Cyclone Seekers, considering the others their best friends in the world. Roach doesn't have a lot of people in their corner, and they're steadfastly loyal to the end.
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Oliver Cox - 32 - he/him - 6'1"
Oliver, like Roach, is not the face of the Cyclone Seekers. Instead, he is the manager of their ViewTube channel and website, as well as the one who usually deals with the people side of things. He's very sweet and enthusiastic, and generally a very gentle man who hates to even raise his voice. While, like everyone else, Oliver has his moments of anger, he prefers to redirect this anger into something productive rather than taking it out on others.
This isn't to say, of course, that Oliver is an innocent child. He's had his fair share of hardships and struggles in his life. However, he believes wholeheartedly in the goodness of humanity and the world around him. And this extends to the team, especially Roach--despite their often prickly exterior, Oliver considers them a very dear friend and is very happy to have them in his life. He sees the best in everyone until they give him reason not to.
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Sydney "Syd" Ambrose - 29 - they/she - 5'11"
Syd is a friend of Roach's from college, an extremely anxious person who, at heart, has always wanted to leave their mark on history in some way. With their thirtieth birthday rapidly approaching, they want to do something great before the big day. This has, in part, reflected on their work with the Cyclone Seekers. As one of two hosts of the show, Syd is often in the spotlight, despite their severe anxiety about public speaking. When the cameras are rolling, their fear falls away, and they easily steal the show.
Aside from their ambition to do something great that lands in the history books, Syd has had a lifelong fascination with storms. The world of more traditional meteorology wasn't for them, so they've decided a more fulfilling career is to chase storms around and study them directly. It's working out so far, despite Syd's growing restlessness regarding the group's lack of mainstream success.
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Yara Key - 30 - she/her - 5'7"
Yara is the other host of the Cyclone Seekers, and she's the much more outwardly optimistic and outgoing one. Their bit on the show is that, though Syd is the anxious one, they're also first to jump headlong into danger just to get a good look at a tornado; Yara, meanwhile, is friendly and outgoing but also the first to hide. It's a good bit and one that brings her a lot of joy, though it does irritate her sometimes to have people assume she's actually a coward. Because she isn't--she's just not stupid.
Though Yara hasn't known the others that long, she's a loyal friend who cares about them all deeply, and her not-so-secret crush on Syd is something Roach teases her about rather frequently (to which she gladly responds by teasing them about their similar crush on Oliver). When it comes down to it, fame isn't important to Yara, but she has a genuine love for entertaining people. And if she can do it while educating them about dangerous storms at the same time? All the better.
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Vincent Cruz - 28 - he/him (questioning they/them) - 5'9"
Vincent Cruz is not a member of the Cyclone Seekers, nor does he have any particular interest in joining their little group. In fact, he thinks they're pretty ridiculous, and more than that, they're fucking stupid. He's grown up his whole life in a small town in Nebraska and knows all-too-well how dangerous storms like the ones they seek out can really be. They're going to get themselves killed, and they'll be lucky if it's quick.
However, Vincent feels an obligation to help them, or at least to make sure they can't put themselves or anyone else at risk with their antics. He isn't sure what makes him feel such a desire to protect them, but he insists it's not out of any care for them. They're just stupid. If he doesn't do anything, then they'll die. Simple math. (Ignoring the fact that they're his first friends in years, and they seem to genuinely like him for who he is when few others do.)
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Vulture - 31 - he/him - 6'2"
A mysterious figure from Roach's past, one that they, until now, were completely certain was out of their life forever. Vulture is cold and cruel and pretentious, seeing himself as quite literally better than everyone else. He loves to hear himself talk and wants everyone to think he's the coolest motherfucker in the room at all times, for better and for worse.
For the most part, he doesn't seem interested in Roach, for which they're grateful. However, he has been contacting them again for the first time in nearly ten years, asking to meet up again.
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deathbypride · 1 year
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Chapters: 3/11 Fandom: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anetra/Sasha Colby Characters: Anetra (Drag Race), Sasha Colby, Aura Mayari, Salina Estitties, Loosey Laduca, Sugar (Drag Race), Spice (Drag Race) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Las Vegas, Roommates, Marijuana, Lesbian Sex Summary:
In which they both work at a strip club, Anetra's apartment has a wasp infestation, Sasha looks after everyone except herself, and getting stoned isn't the solution to everything (but it sometimes helps).
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uhohbestie · 2 months
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hi so I found your fanfic (fanfic feels wrong here you’ve gone way past the source material and you’ve made genuinely one of the hardest to put down reads I’ve had in a while and I just finished game of thrones)
And um i just wanted to say thank you I didn’t think I’d get over obsession with traffic so fast but now all I can think about is TAMN.
I skipped a Grian upload just to finish the last few chapters I mean seriously you’ve got something special here.
So what I guess I’m trying to say is thank you 💕
Putting our fic before watching Grian is definitely the highest honour we could ever hope to receive, oh my god???? We're thrilled AND flattered <3 <3
So glad you're enjoying TAMN!! We're spending this month writing the very last arc and every day I fall in love with this fic even more, and truly genuinely we're both so thrilled to have such an awesome readership to share it with!
Thank YOU, and here's to whatever happens next! 🥂🧟💔
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mel-loly · 2 years
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-Happy New Year!💛✨
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I'll be honest I think the trailers and sneak peeks are messing with us. Like there's more confusion every time lol, as I saw someone say. And personally, I'm gonna try to stop overthinking everything lol.
Rina are getting tossed around, they're not front and center in promos, etcetera - they'll be okay.
We'll probably see Seb and Big Red simultaneously more and less than we fear. Don't ask me how, that's just the vibes I'm getting lol xd.
Everyone's still going to exist. Like, besides Nini, they're all still there at some point (and though I doubt it would happen it would be amazing if she were there at the very end). We'll still see the side characters, we'll still see all the main characters.
This is me reassuring myself and you guys. We will get through this lol. We will be okay. Just take a deep breath, and get ready to enjoy the season :)
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xx-vergil-xx · 2 years
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southern comfort, the corinthian, a river, and a billboard
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moonlesslights · 1 year
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Two Idiots in Love
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox
━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━
Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?
You are managing just fine.
Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.
But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.
So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.
Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.
Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.
You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.
Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.
“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.
“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.
Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.
Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.
He doesn’t talk much.
No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.
You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.
You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.
With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:
“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.
Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:
“I’m good.”
You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.
You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.
For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.
“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.
After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...
"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.
"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.
"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!
"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."
You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.
"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.
"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.
You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.
"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."
"It's just leftovers..."
You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.
None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.
You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.
With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.
Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.
"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."
"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.
You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.
He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.
You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.
"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"
"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.
You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.
After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.
"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"
"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"
He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."
Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"
"But..."
"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."
He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.
The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.
But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.
He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.
For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:
You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.
Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.
"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"
"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."
"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.
Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.
"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."
Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.
He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.
"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.
"What?"
"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.
"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"
You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."
Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.
He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.
You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.
"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."
Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.
"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.
"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.
"... Thank you."
Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.
And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.
When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.
You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.
Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.
"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.
"Eating."
"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Sitting on the floor." You nod.
"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.
"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.
"Elaborate, please."
You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.
And maybe...
"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."
Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.
You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...
"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."
"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."
"... I hate talking to people."
You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.
"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."
That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.
The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.
After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.
The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.
"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.
"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.
Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.
"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.
You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.
"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."
You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.
Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
"Does it hurt?" You ask.
"No." He responds in between goosebumps.
He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.
But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...
"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.
He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"
Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.
"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.
Hold.
He loves to hold you.
His hands serve to hold you.
To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.
"Aquí estoy." He whispers.
"I know." You reply.
You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.
By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.
"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.
He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."
You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.
"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.
"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.
"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."
You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.
"Is the same with these?"
He nods.
"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."
"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."
"Mi cielo..."
"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."
He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.
A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.
But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.
He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.
He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.
Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.
He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.
AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.
You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.
"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.
"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.
"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."
"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"
"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."
"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.
"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"
This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.
After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...
"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."
The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.
"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"
Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.
"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"
"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.
"Why is that important?"
"When, Miguel?" She demands.
"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."
"When was the last time you failed a class?"
"Never." He immediately responds.
"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"
Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."
"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."
Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.
"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."
The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.
During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.
He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.
He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.
While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.
"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."
That was all it took.
"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.
"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.
Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.
"Here." He says. "Look what I got."
You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.
"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"
Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.
If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.
Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.
You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.
The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.
You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.
He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.
"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.
"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."
You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."
"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."
You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.
"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."
His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.
"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.
"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.
"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."
He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.
After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.
"Miguel, wait, I'm..."
"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"
You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.
His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.
"Eyes on me."
His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.
"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."
You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.
"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.
"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."
His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.
He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.
"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."
"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.
"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.
You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.
When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.
"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.
"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."
He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.
"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."
You definitely know he will do more than that.
PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:
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Text
RAW [M] — Lee Seokmin
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✧ If you're a freak and you know it, clap them cheeks ✧
In which Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend, fucks you raw for the first time, and ends up discovering his kinky side.
✧ Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], established relationship ♥ Pairing: female!reader x boyfriend!Lee Seokmin ✧ Word count: 6.3k+ ✦ Warnings: nsfw warnings under the cut! ✎ Notes: hope y'all enjoy this little seok fic I wrote for you 🤭 was feeling a little feral, so this concept fit my mood perfectly hehe ♕ Shout out:  thanks to my amazing bestie @whipped-for-kpop-fics for making me this masterpiece of a banner AND helping me brainstorm for this one. This one really couldn't have happened without you and your shrexy brain! I love youuuuu 💖 and thank you thank you thank you @wonuvs for beta-reading this for me!! Very much appreciated :3
♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡
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nsfw warnings: outdoor/public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, spanking, raw sex (the title is there for a reason hehe), heavy breeding kink, feral seok dirty talk, messy creampie (pls let me know if I missed any!)
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You had every intention to hang the wet laundry out to dry on this beautiful sunny day. It was a simple task, really, one you could have completed in less than five minutes had you not let yourself get distracted. 
Said distraction came in the form of Lee Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend of four years, who had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and switch his usual gym session for a home workout in your garden.
It was quite the sight as he sat on the weight bench, his gorgeous sun-kissed arms and legs on full display, toned muscles pulling and coiling with every raise of his arms. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, making his brown locks stick messily to his forehead. It was almost as if he was chiseled by the gods themselves with how absolutely breathtaking he looked in the bright and glowy sunlight.
You had to resist looking over every few seconds as you attempted to put the laundry pieces on the clothes line. But as the minutes passed, you quickly discovered that trying to suppress the urge to gawk at your hot boyfriend was a battle you weren’t going to win, especially when he was constantly releasing those sinful grunts that sent your mind into a frenzy. 
Before you knew it, the laundry was long forgotten. The only thing that was going through your mind in that moment was how much you wanted — no, needed — to feel Seokmin’s sweaty body against yours. Thanks to your busy and exhausting schedules, it had been a few days since you and your boyfriend last had sex, which, with a sex drive as high as yours, had driven your need for the man to an all time high. 
It was time to do something about that.
Your legs were already moving on their own accord as your hungry gaze settled on Seokmin’s thick thighs, a mischievous smile overtaking your features as you planned out your next move.
Your boyfriend was completely lost in his own world, totally oblivious to the thirsty thoughts floating around in your head as you crept up on him. The headphones he wore drowned out any distracting sounds as he focused on his reps, and with his eyes fully closed, he did not hear you approach him until it was already too late. 
“What the f— baby?!” Seokmin nearly dropped the two 8kg dumbbells he was holding when you jumped him out of nowhere, trapping him with your arms and legs like a clingy koala. 
“That’s me.” You giggled at the dazed look on your boyfriend’s face as you uncovered his ears.   
“What’s the meaning of this?” he breathed, carefully lowering his arms to place the dumbbells into the grass.
You licked your lips, shifting your hips slightly to get more comfortable. “What does it look like?”
“Like you’re trying to kill me,” he groaned before firmly planting his hands onto your sides to get you to stop rubbing against his crotch. 
A sly grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That’s what I was trying to go for.” 
“Oh, were you now?” He raised his eyebrows. “I was almost done with my workout, you know?”
“Hmm, that really sucks then.” You tangled your fingers in his messy hair. 
“Give me five more minutes,” he mumbled, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching along his sensitive scalp. 
“No,” you whined, immediately stopping all movement, much to your boyfriend's disappointment. “I need attention now. It's been too fucking long already.”
You didn't care how whiney you sounded. You needed him right at this moment, and you sure as hell weren't going to wait another minute, especially not for him to finish his damn workout. 
“But I'm sweaty,” he argued with a scrunch of his nose. 
You smirked at that, tightening your grip on his hair as you moved in closer, your lips now less than an inch apart. 
“Even better,” you whispered before teasingly brushing your lips against his. “You're fucking hot when you're sweaty,” you continued, which was followed by you shifting your hips once again, this time with a little more force. 
Seokmin released a sharp hiss at the throbbing sensation your hips left in their wake. The muscles in his thighs automatically tightened, and so did the grip on your waist, all of which you were more than excited about. You got him right where you wanted, and it was only a matter of time before he would take the bait. 
“You're the devil.”
“Only when I have to be.” You grinned, your big twinkling eyes glued to his face as you slowly began to trail one of your hands down his chest. You only stopped when you reached the now very prominent bulge in his black shorts. 
“Fucking hell,” Seokmin cursed under his breath when you gave him a little experimental squeeze. It was just a simple touch, but he already felt the arousal gradually starting to overtake his mind and body. Just a minute ago, he’d been in full workout mode, but now he suddenly couldn’t stop imagining you stuffed full with his cock, begging him to make you cum again and again until you could no longer move. 
You took advantage of the moment and closed the little bit of distance between you to pull him into a deep kiss. Seokmin didn’t resist, already having decided that he’d much rather spend his time pleasuring his pretty and horny girlfriend instead of finishing the remainder of his stupid arm reps. Besides, you were right. It had been a while since he’d gotten his dick wet, so if you wanted to change that, who was he to object?
It only took a few seconds before Seokmin’s lips were just as hungry and forceful as yours, pulling at your mouth with an eagerness that made your gut clench with anticipation. 
His hands navigated down to the swell of your ass, fingers digging roughly into the soft fabric of the yellow sundress you were wearing to press you into his growing erection. You moaned into the kiss at the sudden shift, your own hands moving to grasp at whatever piece of bare skin you could find as you felt yourself grow hotter by the second. 
Your patience was slowly beginning to run thin the longer you sat in his lap with your panties soaked and your neglected cunt begging to be filled. You honestly hadn't felt this needy in a while, so you really didn't want to deprive yourself of Seokmin’s dick for much longer. And you prayed that he felt the same. 
You knew the man liked to drag the whole thing out with a shit ton of foreplay, which often included endless make out sessions and bringing you to multiple squirting climaxes before he even got to fuck you. It was the whole reason sex with Seokmin had become one of your favorite pastime activities in the first place. 
Your boyfriend was a natural at pleasuring you, and he had been since day one. You quickly learned that faking pleasure and Seokmin could never belong in the same sentence. In fact, more often than not, you’ve had to beg him to stop making you cum for fear of passing out from over stimulation. But even in those moments, he usually still managed to pull another few mind-shattering orgasms out of you like the magician he was, and you were certainly not complaining. 
It was just that right now, in this particular moment, you needed him to skip the long foreplay and fastforward to the part where he fucked you stupid. 
“Min, I need you inside me so bad,” you whimpered in between kisses, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint and give you just that. 
He did not get it. 
All you got out of it was an appreciative grunt and a harsh squeeze to your backside that did nothing to satiate the pulsing ache in your pussy. 
Accepting that you were just going to have to speed things up yourself, your hand sneakily found the waistband of his shorts, fingers already tugging the material out of the way to grab a hold of his hard dick. If everything worked out in your favor, you'd be sitting on it within the next twenty seconds. 
“Fuck, baby,” Seokmin groaned, one of his hands clasping around your wrist before you even had the chance to wiggle your hand inside his shorts. “Why don't we go inside before we start ripping off clothes, hmm?”
“No.” Confusion. That’s the emotion that flashed across your boyfriend’s face at the sound of your outright no. 
“No? But I thought you wanted to…?” He frowned, slightly loosening his hold on you when he thought you didn’t want to continue. 
You quickly wrapped his arms back around your waist before grasping his face in your hands. 
“Oh, I do.” A cheeky grin pulled at your mouth. “Right here. You're fucking me here.”
“Right here? O-outside?” Seokmin stuttered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he seemed to process your words. 
Although your sex life was pretty active and more than satisfying, you couldn’t exactly call it adventurous. Despite many of your close friends believing that you and Seokmin were a couple of kinky fuckers, your sexual escapades were usually limited to your bedroom and definitely more on the vanilla side of the spectrum. 
Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. On the contrary, even the most vanilla sex with him felt a hundred times better than the riskier and more experimental sex you’d engaged in with some of your exes, so you didn’t even really miss it. Still, sometimes — like right now — you wished he’d just throw you around and fuck you into the next day for everyone to see. 
You were, however, very much aware that asking him to fuck you in the garden was a complete one-eighty from your usual bedroom adventures, and it could potentially get you caught by your nosy old neighbors, which was definitely a con. But then again, you were feeling unusually risky today, so you honestly couldn't care less who got to see you getting railed. Your only concern right now was soothing the ache in your throbbing cunt. 
All you had to do was convince your lovely, handsome boyfriend to make that happen. 
“Yes, right here.” You nodded and reached up to undo the first two buttons of your dress, taking note of how your boyfriend's eyes automatically gravitated towards your fingers. “Got a problem with that?”
“Well, uh…” Seokmin swallowed thickly as you popped three more buttons, exposing the strapless, lacy, white see-through bra you were wearing underneath. Your hard peaks were poking right through the flimsy material, which made it nearly impossible for him to rip his eyes away from the arousing sight. Your boyfriend was a sucker for your boobs — or any part of your body for that matter — which is exactly why you hoped the next part of your plan would work.
“I think— uh…” He tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed terribly when you popped another three buttons, his eyes following diligently as your action revealed the smooth skin of your stomach. “What I’m trying to s— that…”
By the time you popped the remaining three buttons, Seokmin had completely forgotten what he was going to say. His eyes were practically glued to your body, in particular to the matching see-through panties that left little to the imagination. They gave him a perfect view of your puffy folds and the arousal seeping through the already drenched material. 
Seokmin was — understandably —  having a hard time keeping it all together.
“Well?” You suppressed a grin to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on your handsome boyfriend. “You gonna help me undress or do I have to do everything myself?”
You got your answer when he planted his lips back on yours without another word, hardly giving you a second to breathe as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You instantly melted against him as your body flooded with heat once more, your hands fumbling to grasp onto his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 
Seokmin’s fingers made quick work of your bra, skillfully unclasping the constricting garment and throwing it carelessly in the grass. He took a moment to admire your newly exposed flesh, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before they drifted back down to the drenched panties hugging your cunt. 
He subconsciously licked his lips as he imagined his face buried between your legs, drowning himself in the taste of your sweet juices while you screamed out his name. 
“Stop staring like a creep and do something, please.” Your hand was back in his hair, fingers tightly gripping onto his locks as you pulled at his head, forcing him to rip his eyes away from your pussy and back up to your face. 
“You want me to do something?” An amused smile took over your boyfriend's features as he took in your desperate expression. 
“Yes!” you nearly cried, feeling seconds away completely losing your shit. “I swear to god, Seokmin. If your dick is not inside me within the next twenty seconds I’ll d— ah!”
You didn’t get to finish the rest of your sentence as you were cut off by your own shriek, eyes going wide with shock as you gaped at a smug-looking Seokmin. Just a second ago, you’d been sitting in his lap, but now you suddenly found yourself trapped beneath him, sprawled out on the metal workout bench and completely at his mercy.  
“You'll do what, baby?” Seokmin smirked triumphantly at your stunned face.
“Forget that,” you breathed, using the grip you had on his hair to pull him in for another kiss. “Fuck, that was hot. I want more where that came from.”
“Noted.” His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, and you released the grip you had on his head to allow him to lean back further. 
Your belly fluttered with anticipation when he moved the fabric of your dress aside to make contact with your bare skin. His hands teasingly began to trail down your sides, sending a series of tingles down your spine as you let your mind run wild with desire. 
A shaky breath left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked his fingers into your underwear, excitement filling your body instantly. You were already starting to lift your hips, eager to help him get rid of the one thing separating your cunt from his hungry gaze. 
What you didn’t expect was for him to pin you back down and tear your panties right off your body with a single move. You were left speechless once again, watching as your boyfriend proudly held up the torn lace before letting it fall to the ground. 
That was definitely going on your ‘Hottest Lee Seokmin Moments’ list.  
“You’re really trying to drive me insane over here,” you mumbled when you’d finally found your voice again. 
“You ask, I deliver.” Seokmin chuckled and continued to pull his shirt over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a set of mouthwatering glistening abs and a little dark happy trail that disappeared into his black shorts.
“Good.” Your eyes shifted back up to his with a new determination, your legs slightly opening to give him a nice view of your slick cunt. “Then I’m asking you to fuck me next.” 
With one hand, you reached for the waistband of his shorts, fully intent on tugging it down just enough so you could pull his dick out and guide it into your dripping hole. 
But Seokmin had other plans. 
“Now what?” you whined when his hands stopped you mid-move, wrapping themselves around your wrists just like he’d done before.
What would it take for a girl to get some dick from her boyfriend?
“Not so fast, baby. I'm gonna take care of you first.”
You shook your head in protest. “But I don’t want to wait any longer, Min. Please.”
“Do you want my dick or not, baby?” You’d never nodded faster. “Then be a good girl and spread those legs wider for me.”
That little command had you automatically spread your legs wider, a soft moan rolling off your lips as your walls clenched hard around nothing. Never in the time you’d been with Seokmin had he called you a good girl, but you found that you liked it… a lot. And you wouldn’t mind if he called you that more often from now on. 
“Oh? Does my baby like being called a good girl?” Seokmin smirked, his dark orbs burning into your own as he pushed your legs back as far as you could manage.
“Yes, fuck… so hot,” you whimpered, your legs twitching when you felt his hot breath ghost over your glossy cunt. 
“Keep being good and I’ll keep calling you that,” he murmured right before dipping his tongue between your slick folds.  
The debauched moan you released in response was enough to make Seokmin’s cock jerk uncontrollably inside his shorts. In return, he released a deep groan of appreciation, sending a wave of delicious vibrations to your core that automatically had you try to clamp your legs around your boyfriend's head. But Seokmin, who was way ahead of you, had such a tight hold on your thighs that it was nearly impossible to move. 
He used that grip to bury his entire face in your pussy, hardly giving himself room to breathe to completely drown himself in the taste of you, determined to get you to squirt your juices all over his face. 
With his skillful tongue alternating between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure in all the right spots to bring you to the edge, it took less than a minute before you were moaning his name like a mad woman.
Seokmin relished in the lewd sounds he pulled from you, and the way you desperately gripped at his hair to steady yourself as he devoured you, completely drunk on the taste of your pussy. His dick was painfully hard, straining against the inside of his shorts, practically begging him to relieve some of that agonizing tension. But in all honesty, chasing his own pleasure was the last thing on his mind right now. All that mattered was you, your climax, and nothing else.
It was even at the point that he'd momentarily forgotten you were doing all of this outside, in the garden, where any neighbor would be able to hear or see the obscene things he was doing to you. Not too long ago, Seokmin would have reeled at the thought of engaging in risky public sex, but now, here he was, eating you out in the garden and enjoying every bit of it, not a single fuck given. 
You found yourself in a similar position, eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body twitching and shuddering from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your nerves. It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned things to go — still no dick — but it certainly helped quench the worst of your sexual cravings. The way the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue said enough. 
“F-fuck that’s gonna make me cum so fast, holy shit!” you whimpered when your boyfriend suddenly slid two of his long fingers inside you, immediately curling them up to press against that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose your mind. 
Seokmin only hummed against your pussy, his eyes catching yours as the corners of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smirk. Then, his hand was speeding up, fingers mercilessly batting against your sweet spot while his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. He watched you succumb to the pleasure with hungry eyes, your face contorted in pure ecstasy as your moans got louder and louder the closer you got. 
“You like that, baby?” your boyfriend rasped, his mouth briefly detaching from your clit. 
Your cunt clenched around his fingers in response, the only sound coming out of your mouth being a needy whine since you couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with a sane response with how scrambled your mind was.
That was met with a sharp nip at your swollen nub.
“Answer me,” Seokmin growled, apparently not satisfied with your lack of words.
You yelped loudly at the unexpected but very welcoming stinging sensation that had your nerves singing with pleasure. “Shit— yes! I fucking do!”
“That’s a good girl,” he praised with a harsh slap to your inner thigh before taking your clit back between his wet lips.
The sound of the pet name unraveled something inside you, drawing every muscle in your body taut as you were abruptly thrown over the edge. The full force of your toe-curling orgasm caused you to cry out your boyfriend’s name, your legs trapping his head between your thighs while drenching his pretty face with your arousal. 
Seokmin was perfectly content like that, groaning into your cunt like a starved man as he tried to catch every last drop of your slick with his mouth. Even when you began pushing at his head to get him away from your overstimulated pussy, it took him another twenty seconds before he finally detached himself, looking up at you with a dopey, satisfied grin and his chin dripping with your arousal. 
“You’re insatiable, Lee Seokmin,” you rasped, chest heaving as you tried to recover from the intense high you’d just experienced. 
Said man leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss right below your belly button.
“Yes,” He moved up slightly, this time placing a kiss right above it, “I am.” His lips trailed over your breast, goosebumps forming along the way, “But…” He nipped at your neck, “you…” he whispered, his lips hovering right above yours, “were so good for me,” he finished, capturing your lips into another heated kiss.
The taste of yourself on your boyfriend’s lips lit a new fire inside your belly, your skin flushing hot with a new surge of desire. It also didn’t help that his hands were back on your thighs, kneading and rubbing at them, making every one of your nerve endings come back to life under his scorching touch. 
“Min, get your dick out and fuck me,” you mumbled against his lips, determined to not take no for an answer this time. 
Seokmin was fully prepared to give into your demands this time, no longer wanting to tease you because he was feeling just as desperate and eager to be inside you. There was, however,  just one little thing he hadn’t thought of before. But now with you sprawled out before him in all your naked glory, begging for his cock, the little voice in the back of his mind decided to make an appearance. 
“Fuck.” He grimaced. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right back,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you softly before making a move to get up. 
You quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, confusion taking over your features at the sudden switch in mood.  
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“Condoms… don’t have any on me. I’ll quickly grab one from inside.”
“We don’t need them,” you blurted out, immediately biting your bottom lip when you realized what you'd said.
Seokmin’s eyes visibly widened at your bold suggestion. “But you're not on any birth control. I could actually get you pregnant.”
“Would it really be that bad?” At that, the man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 
The topic of kids was nothing new between the two of you. It had come up on multiple occasions during the span of your relationship, and it was pretty clear that both you and Seokmin loved kids. The both of you always jumped at the chance of babysitting his two year-old nephew whenever Seokmin’s sister and her husband needed someone to watch him, happy to spoil him and play with him as if he was your own. 
It was no secret that you wanted a big family, and so did Seokmin, so that wasn’t the reason he was a little hesitant to fuck you without protection. He just really didn’t want you to regret anything if you did end up pregnant by the end of it, because a child was a big responsibility after all. 
But he also couldn’t deny that he wasn’t tempted by the idea of your warm walls hugging his dick without anything in the way, and being able to empty his load inside your greedy, slick-covered hole like he’d always wanted to do. 
It was hard not to give in to that, especially when you were looking at him with those big, seductive eyes of yours.
“Baby, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” you shot back, a mix of determination and lust adorning your face as you challenged your boyfriend. 
Seokmin frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. “We should think about this…”
“I already did, and I want this. I wanna feel you… all of you… inside me.” You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. 
“Fuck, you’re not making it easy for me,” your boyfriend sighed, feeling completely torn between doing the responsible thing and giving in to his carnal desires. 
“Then stop thinking and just fill me with cum.”
Seokmin gulped, letting out a shaky breath as he felt himself slowly start to lose the battle.
“Shit. Are you absolutely sure about this? Is this really what you want, baby?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of the bench to cage you in.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to touch your nose to his. “If you're asking me if I want you to fuck a baby in me then yes, I totally want that,” you breathed, a small smile gracing your face.
Seokmin’s dick twitched in his shorts at your declaration, unlocking a new level of desire that he didn’t know existed. His body was full-on buzzing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt the gears in his mind switch to a whole different setting. 
You noticed the change in your boyfriend the moment the words had left your lips, the uncertain expression that had been on his face just now making way for a much more ominous expression, one you didn’t quite recognize. 
“Min?” 
“Bend over.” 
“O-okay.” The slight edge to his tone had you scrambling to turn around for him, nearly causing you to fall off the bench in the process as your legs got tangled up in your dress. You planned to rip the clothing piece off your body to make your life easier, but the sudden hand pinning your wrist to your back made that impossible.
“Dress stays on,” your boyfriend’s low voice sounded from behind you as you felt him flip up the material to reveal the supple skin of your ass.
You were about to protest, but the harsh slap to your behind that followed made you think twice about opening your mouth. The impact of his hand connecting with your tender skin pulled a soft whine from you, leaving you with a pleasant stinging sensation that sent a hot streak of arousal right down to your pussy. 
There was barely any time to recover from the first slap before he delivered a second one, this one even more intense and brutal than the last one, forcing you to fight down a scream as you jolted forward, barely able to keep your balance since you only had one hand available to steady yourself. 
Your boyfriend was no stranger to delivering the occasional slap to your ass, but it had always been in a loving kind of way and never like this… so rough and thrilling. So if this kind of spanking was your boyfriend’s reaction to seeing you bent over in your half-discarded dress, then you had no problem keeping it on.
“Such a good girl for me,” Seokmin groaned, his cock twitching once again as he watched your ass jiggle for a third time when his hand reconnected with your delicate flesh. You could only moan in response as you felt yourself get wetter with every slap, hand gripping onto the bench for dear life while you let your boyfriend have his way with you. 
Only after the tenth slap or so, when Seokmin noticed your legs were close to giving out on you, he released the wrist he was holding and allowed you to take a breather while he rushed to shove his shorts and underwear down his legs, finally freeing the raging boner he’d been neglecting for the past twenty minutes.
The man didn’t waste any time as he grabbed onto your waist with one hand, lining up his engorged tip with your dripping cunt with the other. 
A shudder ripped through him when he pushed forward, greedy eyes fixed on his cock disappearing between your ass cheeks, slowly getting enveloped by your tight walls as they made room for him. 
It was unlike any feeling Seokmin had ever experienced. Although he was barely halfway inside, he was sure he wasn’t going to last as long as he usually would have. Without the usual barrier in the way, he was able to feel it all, every little sensation — the warmth radiating off your walls as he slid in further, your creamy slick drenching his cock from head to base — it took everything in him to stop himself from bursting as he imagined how good you’d look with your ripe cunt stuffed full of his seed. 
Seokmin’s pupils were fully blown by the time your ass connected with his pelvis, his jaw clenched and the grip on your waist bordering on bruising as he momentarily stilled to let you both get used to the new feeling. 
You weren’t doing much better, trying to deal with the blissful ache whirling in your stomach as you tried to accommodate the familiar stretch. Only this time, you were able to actually feel the bulging veins forking along his length as they throbbed against your inner walls in the most intoxicating way. 
“Shit, Min,” you moaned, tightening your grip on the bench, “Just fuck me already. Feels so damn good like this.”
At your plea, Seokmin pulled his hips back slightly, slowly dragging his throbbing tip along your sensitive walls before abruptly burying his entire girth back inside your warm cunt with a loud groan.
“Yeah? Like that?”
“Yes… harder,” you whined, impatiently wiggling your ass in search of more of that delicious friction. 
“Fucking gladly,” he muttered, moving one of his hands to your shoulder before repeating the motion again, only this time with a lot more force and speed, which earned him a series of salacious moans that went straight down to his pulsing cock.  
It didn't take long for Seokmin to completely lose every bit of sanity he possessed as he vigorously drove his hips into your ass, your pussy squelching loudly every time his cock slammed back inside your slippery hole. 
He’d never felt like this before… fully overtaken by this primal need to breed you like the good girl you were, completely set on ruining you with his cock and stuffing load after load of cum inside your hot cunt until you couldn’t fit anymore. 
The regular Seokmin, aka the sweet man who made you breakfast every day and made sure you had absolutely everything you could wish for, would have been a messy blushing puddle with all these nasty thoughts running through his mind. But this Seokmin, the pussy drunk, sex-crazed man who was fucking you as if his life depended on it, only felt himself get more riled up with every new lewd thought that entered his mind, not feeling bashful in the slightest. 
You honestly didn’t know where the hell this Seokmin had come from, but you hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of him. His rough thrusts had you feeling like a complete wreck in the best sense of the word, causing you to release an obscene number of sounds you didn’t even know you could make. It was no doubt the best dicking your boyfriend had ever given you, but too much for your body to keep up — you discovered that when your legs suddenly decided to give out on you mid-thrust. 
Fortunately, your boyfriend was prepared and caught you just in time, firmly wrapping one of his beefy arms around your tits to press you against his bare chest, while his free hand clamped around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head up to the clear blue sky as he continued to pound into your sopping cunt. 
“Fuck, gonna fill this pussy,” Seokmin growled into your ear, his breath hot against the side of your face. “Gonna fill it with my cum, fucking show the world you’re mine… get your pretty belly round with my baby,” he continued, never slowing down his unrelenting pace.
“God, yes!” you moaned, eyes once again rolling to the back of your head as your walls fluttered in response to the filth rolling off your boyfriend’s tongue. 
“Dirty girl. You like the thought of me fucking a baby into you?”
”Y-yes, fuck… want it, want your baby!” 
You didn’t think it was possible but Seokmin’s hips sped up even more after you’d said that, making you cry out loud as you clung onto his forearm to center yourself.
“Gonna fill you up like you deserve, stuff you full till you can’t walk. This pussy is fucking mine… mine to claim.” Seokmin had fully lost himself at this point, spewing all the filth he could think of, completely and utterly enthralled by your sweet raw cunt sucking him in so deliciously.
“Oh god, Min, need you to cum in me,” you rasped, feeling the coil in your stomach start to wind and tighten as your boyfriend continuously battered against your sweet spot. 
“So fucking desperate. Such a good girl.” That was the moment Seokmin released your throat and lowered his hand to attach his fingers to your clit, rubbing sloppy figure eights into it while his dick continued to stretch you out.
“Faster… faster,” you urged, feeling your body tense at the sudden surge of pleasure shooting through you. 
Seokmin listened to your pleas and sped up his fingers.
“Oh, fuck, right there,” you whined, feeling like you couldn’t hold it anymore. “Gonna cum… gonna cum!”
White briefly flashed before your eyes as you came with a choked gargle of your boyfriend’s name, your cunt clenching around his cock as your body shook violently from the overwhelming sensations. 
Seokmin didn’t stop at that, feeling like he was seconds away from reaching his own high. With your fluttering cunt continuing to hold his dick in a chokehold, and you begging for his cum in his ear, it didn’t take him long to get there. 
With one last well-timed thrust, Seokmin buried himself all the way inside you, letting his own orgasm wash over him as he felt the first spurts of cum coat your inner walls. Both of you groaned in delight at the unfamiliar but arousing feeling of Seokmin’s cum filling you up for the first time. 
Heat bloomed inside you as your boyfriend continued to spill inside you, holding tightly onto you as he rode out the remainder of his climax. 
“Fuck, Min, so much cum,” you whimpered when you felt his seed begin to drip out of your swollen cunt and down your thighs. That’s how much there was. It felt like there was no end to it. 
“Pussy feels so fucking good, can’t stop cumming,” he panted against your neck, moving his hands to rest on the smooth skin of your stomach.
You smirked, tightening your walls momentarily to pull a little whine from your boyfriend.
“Well, let’s say that I’m not complaining.”
Only when Seokmin’s cock had fully softened and there really was no more cum to give, he reluctantly pulled out of you, not being able to stop himself from gawking at the big globs of cum dripping out of your pussy with his cock no longer holding it in. 
“Min?”
”Huh?” 
Despite your extremely wobbly legs, you managed to turn around and threw yourself at the man in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes with a cheeky smile on your face. 
“I love you, you know that? You’re a fucking freak!” 
Seokmin’s cheeks began to flush at your exclamation, his eyes quickly averting yours in an attempt to escape your intense gaze. 
“Oh…. uh, that? Well…” he stammered, one of hands coming up to rub at his neck.
“Are you seriously acting all shy on me now when you just fucked my brains out?” You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. 
“Well, when you put it like that…” He chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.
“Promise me you’re gonna show this side of you more often.”
Seokmin raised his brows in surprise. “You sure? It wasn’t too much?”
“Fuck no.” You shook your head. “It was definitely some of the best dick you’ve given me.”
“I guess I have no choice then, do I?” He smiled widely.
“Nope. Besides,” You leaned in to kiss him softly before whispering seductively, “if you wanna give me a baby, we better do that many more times, just to be sure.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Then your boyfriend scooped you up without another word, your surprised shriek echoing through the garden as he hurried to rush you inside the house, eager to do it all over again.
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HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS LITTLE SEOK SMUT HEHE! Would be amazing to hear your thoughts on this one 😋 and PLEASE look forward to the next one 👀 I got some good ideas planned for y'all!
☀ if you want to be added to my PERMANENT tag list for upcoming works (MAINLY NSFW, SO 18+), leave a comment below or send me an ask, but be sure to mention PERMANENT TAG LIST if you choose to send an ask! If you wish to be removed, also send me an ask!
⚠️ Please note that this is NOT the same tag list as the SEVENTEEN World one!
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httpsserene · 1 month
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𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 | 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏
summary: you accidentally leak a private song you made as a birthday gift for your boyfriend.
content warning: mdni. suggestive and sexual themes. humor. i consider this to be crack taken seriously. menace and unbothered king oscar piastri. a couple uses of yn. one threat/suggestion of self-deleting (in minecraft ofc). song referenced is on the way by jhene aiko ft. mila j. 
pairing: oscar piastri x singer! fem!black!reader
genre: smau.
from, serene: was this requested? no. i did this for myself. do what you will with that information. enjoy, loves !!!!
⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻
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imessage • yn -> oscar
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yn’s soundcloud
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twitter
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imessage • oscar -> yn
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twitter
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twitter • oscar & yn
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instagram • oscarpiastri • april 6th
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liked by 2,341,988 others
oscarpiastri everybody knows what's on my plate for my birthday breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert 😋🍽️
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yninsta: gave you permission to post this and you didn't even tag me 😠
➥ oscarpiastri: tagging you is unnecessary. ➥ oscarpiastri: as you already made a whole song about how much you enjoy our..."activities" and posted it for public consumption :) ➥ yninsta: please deactivate your account 🫡
landonorris: mate just block me out of respect 🫠
➥ oscarpiastri: you see, i already respect you very little🫶🏻 ➥ landonorris: "tell your friends tinker bell fucked your brains out" ➥ landonorris: i vow to never let you have a peaceful day ever again 🫶🏻
charlesleclerc: my son, please. i have learned too many things i did not need to know about you in 3:42 song. have mercy 🤧
➥ oscarpiastri: somebody has to be the family disappointment 🤷‍♂️ ➥ olliebearman: it's me. i'm the one driving a haas next year 😖 ➥ leoleclerc: everybody's knows m not bringing the shame to our family's name :) 🐕🐾 ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: nobody is a disappointment! family dinner is postponed this month btw. i think charles might cry if he has to look at you oscar.
logansargeant: dude wtf 😳
➥ oscarpiastri: do you have something to say? ➥ logansargeant: ....no ➥ oscarpiastri: hm. that's what i thought
user1: oscar posting "for your eyes only" pics i can't believe it
➥ user2: we all know the song is dirtier than the pics
user3: it's always the quiet ones 🙂‍↕️
➥ yninsta: stay away from them they only cause headaches 😒 ➥ user4: don't you mean backaches? from the way he blows your back out CONSISTENTLY ➥ yninsta: i hope you know that i'm having you blacklisted from any of my future live shows and tours @/user4
user5: everybody tell him happy birthday 🫵🏻
➥ user6: ion have to tell him SHIT 👹 ➥ user7: he already got her, i'm not wishing him a hbd ➥ user8: i'm not spoiling him, she got it covered 🥱 ➥ user9: y'all r lonely n miserable HBD OSCARRRRR!!!!
mclaren: oscar, i respect your game—but i think you missed the point of the emergency pr meeting that i was forced to be in earlier - admin
➥ oscarpiastri: yolo - kimi raikkonen ➥ mclaren: valid ig
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general taglist (ask to join):
@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool
@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea
@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification
@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/
@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25
@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134
@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking
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© httpsserene 2024 - photos used from pinterest.
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nishiyako · 3 months
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KENJI & DOGGY STYLE (DRABBLE) (NSFW)
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Someone reposted one of my Kenji fics and said "ugh he'd so love doggy style", now that I read this, yes, “he’d so love doggy style”. So here's some Kenji doggy style brain rot/Drabbles.
Tags : Doggy style (duh), Creampie mentioned, Pulling out, Dommy Kenji, Praise n sweet talk from Kenji <3, Degration too, Spanking, Kenji puts out a cig on you (can't get over it, srry), not proofread, written in 20 minutes.
Ever since he's seen you he just knew you would look perfect on your hands and knees for him, his hands maybe with a handful of your hair forcing you bounce against his hips while he absolutely spoils you by finishing on your skin.
His chest right against your back, feeling his warm skin against yours and his heavy breathing right beside your ear cooled by the cold gold dog tag necklace he wears that's pressed between your bodies (obviously the necklace stays on)
Everyone knows he's the type to talk you through it, humming the sweetest praises and treating your insides like its his god, rubbing that spongy spot inside you only making you get that much closer, the type that makes you light headed, out of breath, questioning your worth, y'know?
“You like that? Yeah, bet you do.” or “Doing so fuckin’ good for me, yeah?” his words always followed with the most needy, lustful, most porn hub worthy moans you’d ever hear.
Believe he has an impeccable pull out game, pulling out of you just before finishing, using your lower back as a canvas of his warm sticky seed, seeing the build up of stressful days and hard practices painted over his lover while your thighs are absolutely stained and sticky.
While you’re still panting and irrational he asks to take a photo, not a few days after you see it as his phone's home screen.
You want him to be mean? if it's what you're into he’ll absolutely bully you if you want him too. A hand covering your mouth as he complains that “You’re too loud” and while he calls you a slut. He can’t help the fact he’s into you. He’ll even ask you to put your hair in pigtails or a ponytail just so he can hold you like that, seeing that little arch in your back just for him? Does wonders to his ego.
Get's a bit rough here...
He has no problem being rougher than that too, playing into that sick and twisted bad boy fantasy (some of) you have of him, scene being something like a cigarette in his mouth and him ripping your fishnets open. 
Railing you into next week with red hand marks on your skin from his spanking fueled by the cute little yelps you let out. Your eyeliner streaming down your face as your eyes roll back, white starting to stain your ruined (once was) black fishnets, something straight out of a porn hub video. He doesn't mind finishing inside you either if you ask nicely.
His hand pinning your wrists against the bed as the other one took his almost out cigarette and taping it, putting it out on your skin, some of the ash sticking against the shiny sweat on your body, finishing inside you with no warning, the feeling of getting filled up to suddenly pushing you over the edge.
(But no matter which kind of fannon Kenji you prefer, I hope y'all enjoyed hearing out my little doggy style Kenji fantasy.)
Repost in question :
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@gotosleeeep love you sm <33
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meetmeatthecoda · 2 months
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Halcyon by meetmeatthecoda Fandoms: The Blacklist (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Chapters 2/7 Words: 38,032 Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen, Raymond Reddington, Agnes Keen, Dembe Zuma, Harold Cooper, Charlene Cooper, Alina Park, Donald Ressler, Aram Mojtabai, various OCs, Lizzington - Freeform, Agnesgate, AU, post-8.22, Fix-it fic, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Angst, Lots of Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, briefly, in the start of chapter 3, and an equally brief discussion of them in chapter 5, some sexual content, Nothing too explicit, and last but not least, no Redarina, no relation at all ever between red & liz, obviously
Summary:
Halcyon - adjective:
denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.
noun:
a tropical Asian and African kingfisher with brightly colored plumage.
a mythical bird said by ancient writers to breed in a nest floating at sea at the winter solstice, charming the wind and waves into calm.
origin:
from Greek alkuōn ‘kingfisher’ (also halkuōn, by association with hals ‘sea’ and kuōn ‘conceiving’).
An AU post-8.22 fix-it fic, wherein Liz survives her shooting - unbeknownst to everyone - & flees the country in an effort to protect those dear to her, living a solitary, lonely existence on a loch in Scotland & coping with the only outlet she has, a hobby begun as a coping mechanism during a traumatic childhood & kept since then as a closely-guarded secret: art.
“As with all things in her life, it was born from fire.”
☕️ Buy Me a Coffee ☕️
🎶 Playlist below the cut! 🎶
Meant To Be by Ber & Charlie Oriain
Rockland by Gracie Abrams
Walking On The Moon by Ruelle
graves by Purity Ring
32 Floors by Lapsley
Rolling Like a Ball by Ludovico Einaudi
Brush Fire by Gracie Abrams
Much Too Much by Lennon Stella
You Hold Me Up by The Bones of J.R. Jones
As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese (cover by Sarah Cothran)
Men On The Moon by Chelsea Cutler
you broke me first by Tate McRae
Games by Lennon Stella
Save Us by Lennon Stella
Takeaway by The Chainsmokers, ILLENIUM feat. Lennon Stella
Best by Gracie Abrams
Where do we go now? by Gracie Abrams
Amelie by Gracie Abrams
85mm by Ludovico Einaudi
ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine
Through the Eyes of a Child by AURORA
Edge of the Dark by Emmit Fenn
Blinded by Emmit Fenn
Memories by Emmit Fenn
Spectrum by Andrew Belle
I Can’t Believe I Had You by Emmit Fenn
Far from Here by Emmit Fenn
In Between Breaths by SYML
Two people by Gracie Abrams
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tangledinink · 5 months
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Will Swannie miss his wings? He’s been like that for about a year now, he probably gotten use to the wings and the pain in his calves/legs…would Donnie get like….phantom pain or something because of the missing wings? Would he in some way try to get them back or have a reminder of them? Will Donnie even try or want to dance again?
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donnie doesn't usually dance on pointe anymore-- it was a rare occasion pre-curse, and now post, the physical demand is typically too much for him to handle. but when your little brother knows levitation magic, anything is possible for a special occasion.
generally speaking, though?
there's no way he's ever gonna want to stop dancing.
[ swanatello ] [ prev ] [ fin! ]
and... that's it! that's the end!
... well, the end of the main storyline, anyway! the end of the story for swannie that i wanted to tell. the au will still be around! <3 swanatello has pretty much always been built on the asks i've received about it, and i still have more tucked away in my hoard that i intend to get to at some point or another as little bonus side stories, and my askbox is always open as well...! and on that note--
thank y'all so, so much for your support on this magickal girl journey. i NEVER expected to get the amount of love or attention that i did for my silly little donniesona that was based on a pun, but i had so much fun with this comic and am so grateful to y'all <3 like i said, this entire au was really powered by the amount of asks i received about him and his story, and it was really such a fantastic experience for me all around. not including any non-canon crossover content, this comic is approximately 965 pages long! definitely wasn't my plan when i doodled him for the first time as a goof, haha.
thanks, gang. <3 i hope you enjoyed the ride, too.
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nctsworld · 1 year
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fever pitch
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✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
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Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
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With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
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On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
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The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
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After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
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Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
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As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
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EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
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