#my head + throat feel funny...... and kind of swollen.... oh no :

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Listen ||

College!Matt Murdock x female reader

Warnings: E 18+ voice kink, masturbation, airhumping, cumming untouched. Oh my.

Author's note: thanks college Matt ppl who enabled this without even knowing @mindidjarin @prettyeyesnof4ce @briefcasejuice

He settles back on his bed, headphones on, hands folded behind his neck after pressing 'play' on the recording.

Foggy had his Punjabi class so he had at least an hour alone. An hour alone with your voice.

He'd heard of ASMR, and how certain sound textures could have a strong stimulating effect on some people.

Listening to you read the study notes you'd taped for him shouldn't make him react this way but there was no doubt, you definitely made him feel something.

He'd been so surprised when you had offered to help with your latest assignment, and he'd tried his best to assure you he could catch up himself, but now he was so glad you had insisted.

"Hey Matty," he could picture the smile in your bright, warm greeting, and hear your slight giggle as you got over the initial embarrassment of talking to yourself, making him smile too.

He listens attentively, lips slowly pulling into a grin as you outlined your ideas and built your arguments with such inspiring passion and drive. You're so creative, sharp, and funny, and your voice, well, that was just another thing that drew him to spend more time with you. He could listen to you talk all day,

As your recording went on, Matt found he was concentrating less on what you were saying and rather more on how you were saying it. Your voice surrounded him via the headphones, the back of his brain tickled by your silky tone, and shamefully, it didn't stop there.

His mind wandered, thinking about you saying particular types of things, what you might say if you were to be in the room right now, seeing just how you affected him. His cock twitched, swelling as he found himself imagining the sounds you'd make under him.

He reaches down, palming his half-hard cock. He shouldn't be doing this but he can't help himself, he's a dirty fuck, abusing your kindness, no better than some of those sleezy jocks across campus.

He can't help it, it's only natural anyway isn't it? And besides he's not cum in over a week, too busy or in too much company to be able to relax and release. But now, with your unintentionally (?) teasing tone he's pulling up his shirt and pushing the waistband of his grey sweats down just enough, cock springing up to slap against his lower abs. He tentatively rocks his hips once or twice, a small moan partially contained in his throat as the swollen head of it rubs over his skin.

Both of his hands are down at his sides now, fingers gripping the covers that he's lying on top of as he pretends to himself that it doesn't count if he doesn't actually touch himself directly. God it feels good, no, it doesn't count if he thrusts his hips just so, over and over. He can't be overly vigorous as he knows it makes the bed creak a little, and he's paranoid that someone in the next room might hear, but not concerned enough to stop.

You sound so sweet, and he would bet what little money he had that you'd sound so incredibly sexy if you would let him touch you, let him fuck you.

His breathing quickens with every other thrust, and he's wet, a slick dribble of precum spreading from side to side as his cock rolls and slaps against his tensed belly.

F-fuck… he whispers, rutting up into the air as he listens to you swear as you try to find your place in your notes after you went off on a tangent, the pleasure increasing like a pressure pot. He bites down on his lip in an attempt to curb the moans he wants to make, hips jerking in the steady rhythm that he's found that drives his orgasm closer.

What was it you were saying? How he needs to have some confidence in his ability, that you love how much he values the power of the truth. Will you value him confessing to you about this? He's so close, he has to pretend to himself that you'd be flattered, that you'd be turned on because you feel the same way.

Oh my god. He clutches to that thought, to you catching him in this very act.

Matty, what are you doing?

Can I help?

Please, Matt, I want this…

His mouth is dry, he swallows, gasping. His feet press against the mattress as his hips fly up in ragged jolts as he fantasizes the soft plush press of your pretty chest and the tight wet heat of your cunt.

He grips onto the edges of the bed, his breath quietly shuddering in tandem with the warm, sticky stripes of cum spurting from his twitching cock landing across his exposed stomach and chest, some of it undoubtedly soaking into the hem of his shirt.

You're still talking, laughing again as he swears under his shortened breath, cock throbbing and you wrap up, saying you'll see him soon.

He rips the headphones off, still laying there. His hands are clean, he didn't touch. He grabs a towel from the nearby chair and wipes away the mess. He didn't touch.

He just… listened.

Tags: @phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @castlesnchurches @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass

@hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @e-dubbc11 @father4giveme @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @stress--relief @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @m0nster-fvcker @i-simp-much @creativepromptsforwriting @echos-muses

[the-belle-siblings]

Caden, go now, show off your mad cool fit to Ivan!

Okay! Okay... here goes...

Caden sucks in a deep breath and then opens the door to Ivan and Misra's home - pretty much his new home.

I HAVE RETURNED

🗿*Ivan walks out of his room and into the living room where Caden is standing. He rubs his eyes a little as if he just woke up from a nap. Ivan yawns, maybe he did just wake up?* Milk toast is sleeping be quie-

🗿'He looks... great. This is where you give people compliments! Tell him he looks nice or something.'

🗿What are you wearing?

🗿'Dammit! It's fine just smooth it over, this is salvageable tell him it looks GOOD!'

🗿'cause it looks alright I guess...

🗿'he's gonna think I hate it....'

You think so? It's honestly pretty comfy, wanna feel?

Caden holds out his sleeve with a grin.

🗿Sure. *He feels the fabric of the sleeve.*

🗿'Wow.. that feels pretty nice. I expected it to feel kinda gross on my fingertips but... it's'

🗿I mean it's alright, I've felt softer.

You have?? What was it?

🗿'Ah shit now I've gotta lie or I'll sound really weird.'

🗿your hair *Ivan actually face palms now*

My..?

It's not easy to see when an abyssal black creature blushes but Ivan could have sworn he saw some sort of faint redness on Caden's face. And he was right, Caden felt like his cheeks were set on fire and his heart pounded in his chest.

🗿just.. kidding?

Since when did you do that?!

🗿uh since always

Nuh uh! You've never been funny!

🗿rude

Says you.

🗿Well at least I'm not a complete and utter idiot!

Well at least I don't have to make up for what I lack through disapproving of others joy!

🗿Fuck off, you loud annoying twit! Nobody has ever even wanted you here! *He clasps a hand over his mouth and bites his lip until he can taste blood.*

I–

Caden's chest hurts, it feels heavy. Suddenly he's gasping for air to no avail. It's like ever fear had swollen up and gotten stuck in his throat. He tries to cough and cough and... he can't do it. He can't breathe.

🗿*He drops the hand from his mouth.* Caden I- I didn't mean it- you're right I- ...Caden?

Caden is hitting himself in the chest, trying to loosen the petals in some kind of way. He then suddenly recalls the universal sign for choking. He assumed doing it would get his point across.

🗿Oh hell- *Ivan goes over to Caden and hits him on the back a few times and then preforms the heimlich maneuver. After some effort Caden is coughing again.*

Caden ends up practically hacking up a donation to red cross and a botanical garden on the floor. He's shaking from the experience, his arms reflexively holding himself.

I'm fine.. I'm fine.. I'm fine...

He repeat mutters through a scratchy and sore throat.

🗿no.. no you're not. *A certain feeling, a newer one he'd only recently labeled as guilt, digs deep into his heart in an unsettling fashion. He can't stop himself, and would rather not stop himself, from hugging Caden. He hadn't done this to anyone other than Misra since he was about 9. But he tried to comfort him, knowing how much of it he caused.*

🗿I'm sorry, Caden... You dug at a sore spot but I still lashed out disproportionately and... I like having you around. I just... I was being cruel. I don't... I don't like being cruel to you I just don't know how to be nice and- it's not your fault. I shouldn't be coming up with excuses, I'm sorry. You have every right to be mad at me and-

..stop.. please just stop it... it doesn't matter if you don't but I really- clears throat - I really care about you. If you want to- If you just wanna use me for my power, that's fine. I'd just ra- clears throat -rather you stop playing make believe and messing with my head...

🗿That's not what I-...

🗿'I guess that's what it looks like. I mean I tell myself that's all I want from him, right? I just keep saying all I want is his power but... I don't care. I genuinely... I genuinely enjoy doing stuff with him and listening to him blabber before he goes to sleep. I like when he sits next to me like it's the expected usual. I like it when he smiles. I like it when he announces himself loudly. I like him. I like him even when he's doing something stupid or kinda gross. I find it endearing even! I've been describing him as tolerable as some sort of cope... it's as if my body reacts to the almost certain rejection by rejecting it all in turn. I hate it but... being kind feels so new and foreign on my tongue I don't... I don't know how. If only, If only he just knew...'

🗿Caden I'm not trying to play with your head or- or use you anymore I just- I happen to- yes, I happen to find enjoyment in your companionship and I... have never really felt that way around someone before...

You've... you've never had a friend before?

🗿No, none like you. None I felt I could be myself around. I apologize deeply for mistreating you I just.. I feel so vulnerable.. I hate it.

Well... I'm not here to take advantage of you when you least expect it. Let's just... put this behind us, okay?

🗿alright... You-... you look rather dashing by the way.

Ha! Thanks! You look good too.

🗿But I haven't changed a thing–?

I know. Uh- anyways! Do you wanna go watch-

🗿*Ivan nods quickly and drags Caden off to his room to watch MLP Our Miniature Horses. His chest didn't feel right, his heart rate felt off but.. he didn’t hate it. Then there was that feverish heat in his cheeks following the compliment... oh no... It's true... he really is falling in love.*

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

I just thought of this. Ever seen those videos where the girlfriend gets a mannequin head and puts it in bed next to her to make it look like there's someone else in bed with her? The boyfriend's reaction always comes out aggressive. Could you do a headcannon of S/O doing that exact prank to the turtles?

I'm hoping you get this request. I'm unsure if you got the other requests I've sent you.

omg this would not be funny for them and dw, I've gotten the other requests and I will do them, it's just I have a lot of requests at the moment so I'm just writing at my own pace. Thanks for your patience, bud!

Leo

so, you set the whole thing up

you even dress the head in a hoodie and wig so it looks more real

but you did not expect his reaction

you lie in the bed once you hear him get home and try not to giggle thinking this would be a cute light hearted prank

the door opens, Leo begins to speak "y/n I was just thinking-"

then he goes silent

you don't move and pretend to be asleep

you feel Leo gently shake you to wake you up and the look on his face cuts you to your core

it's a mixture of sadness, betrayal, disgust and horror

"Really? In my bed? Look, it doesn't fucking matter. And whoever he is...When he wakes up just tell him to show himself out. You can pack up your things too. I just really thought you were better than this- than- I mean" his voice starts to break "Really? In our bed? You couldn't even pretend to have enough respect for me to go somewhere else and-"

it'[s all too much and you cut this prank short right there

"It's a mannequin head! Look, baby, it's not real! I would never, never ever cheat! Oh god I'm so sorry"

Leo feigns a smile, you can tell there's some relief in there for real but he's still riding this roller-coaster of pain

"you uh, you really got me"

it takes about a week for him to go back to normal with you

after that, pranks are off the table for good

Raph

ok so you blame Mikey for this really

at the end of the day it was his idea

you're blameless really, right?

he said it would be fun to see the big barracuda blow up if he thought you had another man in bed with you so the onus in on him!

who are you kidding, this is all your fault

the prank starts how you would expect, but Raph's reaction is far from what you though it'd be

he walks in the room, throws down his gym bag and then you can sense his stiffen and feel an almost tightness in the room

that's when you hear it

a muffled little gasp and then he leaves the room

and he doesn't come back

this was not what you had in mind

so you follow him

he's no where to be found until you overhear it

"I just thought she was the one. I thought she felt the same but now...Did I drive her away, master Splinter?"

you feel a lump in your throat realising this wasn't funny, it was just hurtful

you run to your room to grab the head and run back to Splinter's quarters

you burst in the door and shove the head at him

"Not a real man- not- not real. Never- never cheat on- on you" you pant out, so out of breath from the short run. damn you're unfit.

Raph's eyes are puffy and swollen from crying

this really couldn't have gone further from what you had in mind

all he says is "why?"

you explain that Mikey said it would be funny and you assumed he's just punch the mannequin head and then figure it out an you'd all laugh

you cannot over apologise for the hurt you cause him

Raph is the little spoon that night, he needs to feel you holding him to know he's safe in this relationship again

Mikey

This...This was more of how you expected it to go

but still not quite

when Mikey walks in the room he notices straight away

he kind of just stands there for a moment and then

"bab- *eh hmm* y/n?"

that's a bad sign, no "babe" or "babycakes?"

yikes, not good

then you feel him kick the bed to "wake you"

when you look over at him, his fists are clenched, his jaw is tight and his eyes are welling up

you don't know if it's all from anger or what but you sense you made a mistake

"...Mikey" you begin, realising the fuck up

but he interrupts

"No, pack your shit. Now."

there's no sharpness to his voice, it isn't anger.

it's defeat

oh no

oh no no no no

he begins to walk out of the room but you jump out of bed and grab his arm

"It's a prank! It's just a prank, oh I'm so sorry!"

he still looks confused so you grab the head and show it to him

he wipes his eyes, playfully slaps the head on the cheek and says "well...You got me..."

but the damage has been done

now every time he walks into your room he scans the place to make sure no one's in there

his trust in you has been damaged although he never admits to that

Donnie

*and this was when y/n knew she'd fucked up* is all you could think when it went down

like the doting boyfriend he is, he walked into the bedroom to give you a glass of water

upon noticing the other presence in the room

that glass of water was promptly thrown on you and he stormed out

slamming the door behind him

all you could hear of him as he walked away was cursing and cussing and that thickness he gets in his voice when he's trying not to cry

of course you chase after him

"It's not real, Donnie, baby, it's not real!"

"I know what I saw, y/n!" he snaps back "You're really gonna tell me I didn't see you and HIM? Who is he? What's his name? Was he better than me? He's human right? just like you always wanted-"

it takes some time for you to calm him down

lots of "I hear you but please listen" and "can we take one breath" and "let me explain"

by this point the others have gotten involved, Donnie doesn't usually get this worked up so they wanna know what all the commotion is

Leo enters the room while the others try to make sense of it

"there's no one in there, Don" he says as he walks out

that's when Donnie goes silent

Leo holds up the mannequin head and points at it

"just this thing"

Donnie takes a deep breath and looks you in the eyes

"that was fucked up" is all he says before walking away

3 weeks, a lot of reassurance, some long talks about what he meant by "you always wanted a human" and lots of loving gestures later and you guys are almost back to normal

you are never, ever pulling some dumb prank you saw online on him ever again

[neopuppy]

Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)

Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck

Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes

Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.

Intro—>

Part 1–>

“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”

“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.

“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.

“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.

“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.

“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”

“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.

“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.

“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.

“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”

“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.

“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.

——————————————————————————

Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.

Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..

“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.

“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.

“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.

“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.

“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.

“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.

“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.

“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.

“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.

“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.

“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.

“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.

“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.

“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.

“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.

“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.

“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.

“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.

“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..

“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.

“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.

Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.

“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.

Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..

——————————————————————————

“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.

“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.

“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.

“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.

“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.

“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.

“Right..”

“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.

“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.

“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.

“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.

“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.

“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.

“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”

“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.

“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”

“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”

“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.

“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.

“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.

“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”

——————————————————————————-

“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”

“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.

“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.

“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.

“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.

“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.

“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.

“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.

“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.

“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.

“Fucking jerk.”

—————————————————————————-

“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.

“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”

“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.

“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.

“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”

“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..

“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”

You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.

Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.

“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.

Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.

“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.

“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”

Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..

“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.

“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”

Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.

“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”

Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.

“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”

Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.

Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.

Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.

“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.

“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.

“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”

“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.

“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.

“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.

“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.

“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..

“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.

“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”

Part 3–>

Taglist:

@seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect​ @skrtbeepbeep​  @lanadreamie​ @nctstrawberrycow​  @meonlightuniverxse​ @sunshinedhyuck​ @haechanswhore​ @brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr​ @kpopmultiifandomm​ @d1nne​ @neobanguniverse​ @pewpewpwe00​ @abitofafan​ @haechansworld​ @born5sos​ @bockhyun​ @prettychannie​ @xuyiyangstan​@alexameliamg​ @ahsshilee​ @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @tarolovebot @loveyukhei @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @winwiniee @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @n0hyuck @doyoungssouthernbabygirl

[mintmatcha]

I want giggly cuddly sex with tadashi 🥺 where there’s no power dynamic just us two having a good time and wanting to make the other feel good :((

I combined these two little ditties into a fic!!! I hope you don’t mind!!!

CW: established relationship, praise, sex, fluff/smut. 

yamaguchi x reader 

(reader has a vagina- no pronouns or gendered language used)

first time

It's one of the pitfalls of a new relationship; everything the other person does is endearing. 

"I'm just saying, it's weird that the fourth movie is so good!" Yamaguchi digs his hand into the bowl on your lap, picking through the entire bowl to scrape at the popcorn kernels. He tosses the bits into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, cracking through each kernel loudly, before pausing to suck the excess salt off of his fingers. 

God, if anyone else did that, you'd probably be disgusted, or at the very least annoyed, but there's something about Yamaguchi that makes it unbearably endearing. Maybe it's the little shoulder dance he does every time he takes a bite. Maybe it's the way your heart skips a beat when his tongue swipes over his knuckle, catching a bit butter. "Name another series that has a good fourth movie. You can't. Scream 4 is one of a kind." 

He does it again, crunching through the kernels happily, tongue peeking out once again to wipe across his fingertips.

God, you wished he would lick you like that. 

"Tadashi, you're gonna break a tooth." you chide, even as you sink further into his lap. There was plenty of space on the couch, but you had somehow migrated to his lap sometime during the previous movie. The arm around your shoulder tightens, pulling you into a kiss on the cheek. It's greasy with butter residue, but somehow it still makes your heart flutter. 

Fuck. Only 3 months into the relationship and you were wrapped around his finger, watching movies that you didn’t have any interest in. Any little annoyance was forgotten as soon as he flashed you that freckled smile. Every little nuance you discovered made you fall deeper into .... like.

Not love. Like. You weren't ready to admit to the 'love' word quite yet, but it was getting closer. You had been 'in like' with Yamaguchi since shortly after he moved into the cubicle next to yours.  Maybe it had been the way he always remembered to grab you an extra sugar packet for your coffee, or the way he laughed at whatever podcast he was listening to that day, or the way he silently procrastinated at the end of the day so you could walk to bus together: whatever it was that won you over didn’t matter, what did matter was that Yamaguchi made you feel happier than anyone else.  It felt natural to be with him, to be held by him, to be ‘liked’ by him.

...Your only complaint was the pacing. One of the best and worst things about the two of you was that you were both polite, constantly dancing around unsaid boundaries, trying overly hard to respect each other, avoiding any situation that could possibly make the other one uncomfortable. Which meant your physical relationship was nothing more than the occasional kiss.

Honestly, you were beginning to think he didn't want to. His hands never wandered, his texts never turned dirty, and you certainly never initiated anything. It felt like there was never an opportunity to start anything; even now, sitting on his lap while wearing a sweatshirt he had left at your apartment weeks ago, it felt wrong to interrupt a wholesome moment.

Not that you didn't want to. God. You wanted to.

"You know,  I don't think anyone's ever worn my hoodie before." he comments, eyes never leaving the television. He’s enthralled with this stupid movie, even though he had seen it 'dozens of times.'

"Really? I’ve been wearing it as a shirt. " you grab at the fabric, "Do you want me to take it off? "

"Yeah, sure." he responds blankly, attention still glued to the movie. Then, he seemingly realizes what he said, face immediately erupting into a furious blush. He's quick to separate for you, almost spilling the entire bowl on the ground. You mirror him, unsure if you should laugh at his panic or cringe. "No! Do not take your shirt off! I do not want that!" 

"Tadashi. Calm down." You laugh, even as disappointment settles in the back of your throat. Does... does he really not want to see you undressed? Is this why you guys having had sex yet? Did he just see you as a friend? For his comfort and not your own, you inch farther away, back against the opposite arm as him. "It's fine, I get it."

"No, I-" he takes a moment to settle himself, "You look phenomenal with my hoodie on, I just, I don't want you to take your shirt off unless you want to, because it’s totally something I want. I think about it-" he pauses mid sentence, ears burning so red that his freckles seem to disappear, " I mean, if- I'm not like that- if you're not ready- that's not why I invited you over. I'm not expecting anything." 

He gives a nervous chuckle, widening the distance between the two of you more. You let his words sit, only the sound of the movie in the air. 

"So." you begin slowly. "You think about me without a shirt on?"

“I mean, of course.” He is acutely aware of the edge of the couch, his body teetering at the brink, but he bares it. "Can I tell you something? You can't laugh at me. Or think I'm a pervert." 

"I can't promise that. Are you, like.... sniffing my underwear or something?" you joke, a grin sneaking across your face.

He snorts and shakes his head almost violently. 

"Okay, no! Now the real thing doesn't sound as pervy." he adjusts only slightly, his shoulders unbunching themselves. Most of the tension in the air has melted away. That's what was so great about Yamaguchi; even when things turned awkward, they quickly returned to normal. "Do you remember that time Yakki split that water all over you?"

You roll your eyes at the memory. "Of course."

"And you had that little white blouse on?" he swallows, "My productivity at work dropped about 50% that day. It was so bad that the boss scolded me." 

"Yeah, because you were too busy worrying about me catching a cold!" you say, "You even gave me your jacket!" 

"No, I gave you my jacket because your shirt was see-through.” he admits, “My productivity dropped because all I could think about was how I wanted to take you and that little see-through shirt into the storage closet."  

Oh God. This is it. This is the opportunity. 

You lean forward with a tilt of your head, the gapping neck of the shirt falling forward past your collarbone. His eyes are glued to the neckline, tracing over the hint of skin, silently begging for more. You tuck your knees up under you and begin to crawl, only half convinced that this is sexy.  The closer you get, the more he can see down your shirt. His breath hitches slightly at the sight, but he doesn't dare to look away.

"Oh? What were you thinking about doing to me in that storage closet?" Yamaguchi lets his legs fall apart and, hesitantly, you place a hand between his knees, fingertips grazing the grey cotton of his sweatpants. The band of his bright red underwear peeks out from under his shirt and, without thinking, you trace over it with a pad of your finger. At the touch, he leans forward, lips tickling the shell of your ear as he speaks. Your heart is thrumming in your eardrum, so hard you can barely hear what he's saying. 

"First, I would have ripped that wet little shirt off, button by button." he chuckles, reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind your ear. Your pussy clenches at the low rumble of his voice, so hard you feel like your stomach is cramping. "Then, I-"

A scream cuts through the room. The both of you jump forward into each other, knocking your skull against his jaw. Almost in unison, you both reel back: you clutching your ear, him clutching his lip.  The bowl spills across your laps, scattering popcorn all over the couch and floor as you both frantically search for the source of the noise. The dramatic music of the movie drums through you as some damsel in distress is running across the screen, screaming for help.

One beat. Two beats. 

Then, you laugh. It's one from the belly, that makes your gut ache from effort. You're trying to reach for Yamaguchi, make sure he's okay, but your eyes are watering, and your whole body shaking.  He's giggling too, still covering his lip. 

"The movie scared me!" you explain through tears. He nods in agreement, gesturing to the mess across his lap, including a huge butter stain across his crotch. It's not a funny moment, not when both of you are aching, but an intangible something has you both snorting and sobbing through giggles. The moment is way too long, way past the point of any humor, but Yamaguchi's snickering feeds into yours. 

Finally,  Yamaguchi manages to collect himself, scrunching his lips into a straight line. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and you dissolve into giggles once again.

"I want to fuck you so bad right now." he breathes. His directness surprises you. "But not on top of the popcorn." 

You pull a deep breath, trying to center yourself. "We could move?"

"My roommate is going to kill me when he comes home to this mess." he says, but he stands anyway. You follow and his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you into him softly. He presses a kiss against your lips, warm and gentle, and then pulls back with a grimace. 

"I think you bruised me.” he touches his lower lip gingerly, as if testing it. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t-” he silences you with another kiss and now you can feel the swollen corner of his mouth, gritted slightly with salt. He clutches on to your top as he steps backwards, dragging you along with him so the kiss doesn’t break. Each step is rocky and unsure (you barely miss colliding into the wall) but you stay embraced, your hands clutching into his dark locks, partially to keep your balance as blindly follow. His hands trace up under your shirt, thumbs digging into the soft of your hips, pulling you flush against him, forcing you deeper and deeper into him until-

“Oh, shit.” he breaks away suddenly, pushing you back slightly. “I- my room- I need you to stay here.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“My room’s a mess, I really didn’t expect that you would- that we-” he shakes his head. “Gimme 30 seconds- please. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You don’t object as he scuttles away, clicking the door firmly closed behind him. You can hear the muffled sounds of drawers slamming and objects being tossed about as you wait. It feels like you have been standing there, starting at the generic art hanging in the hall, for ages. It’s much longer than 30 seconds, but not quite the eternity it feels like.

The door creaks open and your favorite freckled face peeks out.  “Hi.” 

“Hi.” you repeat. Somehow, every amount of tension had returned in the scant amount of time you had been apart. Both of you knew what you wanted to do, but, the knowledge seemed heavy. It was an explored territory, sleeping with someone new. No matter what your past relationships were, each new experience with a new person (especially a new person you CARE about) brought its own pitfalls and challenges. It seems so serious, so scary, until you tear your eyes away from the floor and actually look your boyfriend in the eyes.

"Did you just brush your teeth?" you reach out and brush a little bit of white foam from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. He leans into your palm with a smile.

"I didn't want to taste like popcorn." he says and you can't help but laugh as he leads you into the room. It’s his brand of organized chaos; there’s clothes peeking out from the closet, miscellaneous knick knacks on the nightstand (including a still foamy toothbrush) and half hung posters across the walls. . You break away to sit on the bed, tracing over the pattern of the bedspread. 

“I like this.” you comment, “Very nice.” 

He nods, frozen in the doorway. Slowly, he reaches up to the lightswitch and flicks the light off. The darkness feels heavy with anticipation and worry as he pads around to the other side of the bed. He feels it too, you decide, as you watch his adam’s apple bob in the low light, this insane mixture of pressure and excitement.

For Yamaguchi, it’s the thoughts that usually plague his mind at night that grate away his confidence. The dreams of your skin between his fingers, your taste on his lips, are so close to reality, but he can't bring himself to make the first move. Even in the low light, he can see the curve of your waist, slowly contracting with every exhale. His own breathing matches your pace and, for some odd reason, that realization makes his chest burn with longing.

"I'm not expecting anything. If you don't want to." he reiterates as he lies down. How pathetic, he thinks. He really wasn't expecting anything, but, god, was he thinking about it. He'd been thinking about it since the first time he had seen you from across the If he could just reach out, just grab your collar and pull you to him, he could finally-

"Tadashi." his skin jumps at the sound of your voice and the sound of you shuffling, laying across the mattress. It's enough to knock him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He swallows back the tightness in his throat as he inches closer to you, his knees brushing against yours. He feels the gravity of the mattress shift as you shuffle closer and closer, until you're within inches of him.  You're almost face to face now, close enough that he can feel the way your breathing picks up as his hand finds your shoulder. You hum at the contact; he's warm. Even through the thick cotton, his skin is unusually hot against you. 

"You're like a little space heater." you whisper. Yamaguchi blinks, thinking, before his lips peel into a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" He doesn't wait for an answer.  He squeezes gently and you let him pull you forward, nose pressed against nose, hip against hip. His own shoulders shake with a silent laugh and you can't help but join him. It's something about the novelty of the situation, the joy in doing something new, breaking an unspoken boundary, that makes you laugh. You both dissolve into giggles, shifting closer and closer until you're laughing in each other's arms, fully pressed against each other. Even through your sweatpants you can feel the suggestion of his cock pressed against you, heavy against his thigh.

" ’Dashi." you whisper into the thin space between you. 

"I- Yeah?" he lets out a shaking breath. You take his hand and guide it to your chest, his fingers immediately cupping the flesh, massaging the flesh with a surprisingly steady touch. The way he sucks in air, fast, surprised, and hungry, sends heat pooling to your core.

"There's no popcorn here." you joke, "If you wanna fuck me." 

It's enough to break through his anxiety and he's against you again, this time with no laughter to keep your lips apart. His mouth finds yours, hungrily catching your lower lip between his teeth, tugging it ever so slowly. The sharpness makes you gasp and he uses the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue against yours. He tastes like his brand of toothpaste- soft and sweet mint. It's unexpectedly hungry, unexpectedly rough. 

The kiss doesn't break as he rolls over on to you, pressing your back into the down of his bed. His heart is already racing, battering against his ribs, as he continues tugging and teasing your breast, but he can't find it in himself to slow down. His free hand pushes up the hem of your shirt (his hoodie) to expose your chest. The kiss ends as he pulls away, forcing the short in-between your teeth, holding it up to give him free reign of your body. His head dips to join his hand, breath hot against your nipple. The cloth muffles your moan, but not enough to hide it from your lover.

He pauses, mouth open and tongue lulled out of his mouth, gazing up at you through his eyelashes. "Is this okay?" he's not touching you, but you can feel the low vibrations of his whisper against your skin.

"Yes, please." you whine through the sweatshirt, wrapping your hands into his hair. "Please, Please."

His tongue traces over your nipple delicately before he pulls back,  just far enough to watch it pebble under his touch.  He returns to work, clamping down and sucking, leaving the dull pain of a blossoming bruise behind. Your hips rut up into nothing, looking for any sort of friction.

He continues like this, leaving scattered marks across your skin as he worships you. Yamaguchi seems so content, just learning the scape of your body, but the building tension in your core is wearing thin.

Trailing touches down his body, you slipped your hands under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him through his boxers. Yamaguchi breaks, resting his forehead against your collar bone with a swallowed groan, as your fingers trace around the crown of his cock. Unwilling, he bucks into your light touch, dragging his length through your grasp. You tighten your fingers as he continues fucking himself against your palm, his own hands drifting to grasp your hips, pushing down your shorts just a fingers-length. Finger pads traced against the newly exposed skin, dipping lower and lower until tracing over the lace of your underwear.

"Wow." he breathes, lifting his head up to press a kiss against your chin. "Lift your hips for me, beautiful." 

You comply, letting him peel off your shorts and underwear in one pull. The cool night air made you shiver, but his warm hands soon returned to explore the newly exposed skin. 

"Oh, you're so..." his hand dips in between your legs, dragging a digit through your folds. The sound of your slick against his fingers makes his cock pulse in your grasp. He leaves his thought unfinished as he starts circling your clit with a steady touch. The pressure sends you keening, hips rolling into his touch eagerly, but he remains steady, patient.

He's building you up embarrassingly fast, leaving you sweaty and panting under his touch. Just as your legs start shaking, your body right on the brink, he withdraws. His tongue darts out to wipe away your fluids from his hand and he groans at the taste, eyes fluttering. 

"I'm sorry, beautiful. You can't  cum until I'm inside you." he whispers, sitting up to peel off his shirt. Clusters of freckles dapple his shoulders and it's all you can watch as he scrambles away to the nightstand drawer.  He returns a moment later, eager tearing through the tin foil packet with his teeth.

"Tadashi! Be careful!" you scold as you throw the blankets aside.

"It's not ripped!" he says, grabbing the bunched up shorts from the crook of your knee and tugging it completely off, dragging you a couple inches down the mattress with them. He tosses them aside as he pulls off his own; even though you just had your hand around it, the sight of his cock makes you anxious. It's thick, much thicker than you anticipated, and around leaking, a bead of precum catching at little light in the room.

As he begins rolling the condom on, you peel off your top and Yamaguchi's mouth falls open, eyes darting around the entirety of your body.

"Holy. You-" he sighs happily. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He surges forward, pressing you down into the mattress once again. His mouth is against yours, swallowing your whines. His hands are at the small of you back again. but now it's about but pure. He's forcefully angling your hips back and forth against his cock, dragging your clit against his spongy head and spreading your wetness against the plastic film. 

"I can't believe I get to fuck you." he says in between kisses. Yamaguchi continues to fuck your folds, his calm pace finally losing it's rhythm. "I can't believe I get to play with this perfect pussy. Can't wait to see you cum around my cock." With a trembling hand, he reaches down and presses his tip against your entrance, hesitating before sinking just the head inside you. The pop of his cockhead entering your cunt makes both of you gasp in unison- and another wave of giggles over takes the both of you.  As he dips down onto his elbows, eyes screwed shut, he doesn't make a move for a long moment, the only sound in the room is his steady breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-." he presses a kiss against your neck, another laugh bubbling up, "You just- ah, you're so pretty. I can't believe this is real." 

Your hand catches his jaw, pulling his face up into yours. Your thumb traces over his cheek, tracing over the subtle dimpling of his pock marks. The freckles scattered across his cheeks, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he smiles- he's the beautiful one here. At your touch, he pushes further into you, steadily feeding your tight whole inch by inch, watching the way your mouth gapes and twists at the pressure. Once he's fully seated in you, he pauses, watching your chest move with each breath. 

"Dashi," you whine, hooking your ankles together around his waist, "You're so thick." 

"I know, you're doing such a good job." he presses a kiss against your forehead as he begins rolling his hips against you. Each thrust is rough, your hips angled up for him to sink his full length into you. "Keep being good for me, baby." 

With an unexpected strength, he tugs you closer, lifting your hips off the bed. Each stroke is steady, pumping his entire length in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, begging for more, but he doesn’t oblige. It stays sinfully slow, building you up in a controlled burn. Each kiss, highlighted by the mingling of your hot breaths, is further raking the coals. 

“Is my pretty baby gonna cum for me? Look how great you’re taking me.” he groans.  He’s praising you blindly now, neither of you sure of exactly what he’s saying, all of his attention focused on grinding into you.

Your back arches further, and you’re seeing stars as he fucks you just right. You can barely keep your vision focused on him, those grey eyes clouded with concentration Your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs and you come undone with a strangled laugh, fisting the sheets desperately. The way you clench down around him makes his hips finally stutter, a hiss escaping his gritted teeth. Your chest is filled with a flurry of emotions as you sling your arms around his shoulders, unable to wipe away the goofy grin in your face. 

A few more snaps of his hips has him melting into you as he cums. He tucks his head under your jaw with a hum, dropping you on to the mattress. His hands find their way back to your chest, giving you a final squeeze.

"Fuck." he whispers into the soft of your neck as he withdraws. He's quick to peel off the condom and tie to off, discarding it off the side of the bed. Yamaguchi rolls onto his back, holding his arms open expectantly. "You're so hot when you laugh, you know that?" 

Curling into his arms, finding some sort of gross comfort in his sweaty warmth, you can't help but suppress another giggle.

"Hey, be careful. Keep laughing and we'll have to do that again." he grips your jaw, tilting your face towards him to capture you in a kiss. "Don't test me; I'll fuck you so hard you'll need a standing desk on Monday."

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your hand tracing down his chest, connecting his freckles. "Prove it."

"Oh, I will, come here-"

The distant sound of a door slamming catches your attention. "Yamaguchi, what the fuck?" a familiar voice echoes through the apartment. 

Yamaguchi shoots up, frantically searching for his pants in the sheets. "Fuck, I forgot about the popcorn!"

[loserchildhotpants]

Destiel prompt from Twitter; kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, even though, it’s a lie, and the kiss proves it (from this prompt list)

“I’m just saying that I don’t think you’d get this defensive if there really wasn’t anything between you two -”

“There isn’t, and I’m not getting defensive!” Dean argues, decidedly defensively.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Sam offers with a shrug and a smirk.

Staring down into the open grave the boys are in, Castiel glances between the brothers and tilts his head, wondering if perhaps by a different angle, he may better understand what their expressions mean.

“We’re bonded or whatever - that’s it, man! There’s nothing else going on!”

“I’m not even saying there is anything ‘going on,’ I’m just saying there could be, and if that were something you wanted -”

“I’m not qu -”

“I know, I get it, I hear you, humor me for a second, okay? All I’m saying is just - if there were something between you two, and you wanted there to be something ‘going on,’ where there is currently nothing ‘going on,’ I just think you should, hypothetically go for something rather than settling for the nothing, because, personally, I think there is something there, and you could have a great thing going if that were what you wanted.”

“Even if - which I don’t - I’m not - listen, though, okay? I’m not, and I don’t want that - not that there’s anything wrong with it, or something, just - even if that were the case, Cas isn’t like that. He’s not a being that experiences shit like that -”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong, Dean! The way he stares at you -”

“He stares at everyone!”

“Do I?”

The Winchesters jump in unison, both with hands on their guns faster than should be possible. They both visibly relax again, though, when they realize it’s only Castiel interrupting.

“Oh, hey, Cas,” Dean greets, his voice markedly more gentle than it was with Sam only a moment before.

Castiel appreciates it.

“Hello, Dean.”

With a cheeky grin, Sam clears his throat, and says to Cas, “your timing couldn’t be better, actually, Cas - Dean and I have some questions -”

“No, no, we do not have questions,” Dean growls at Sam, eyes blazing dangerously.

“I am always available to you boys for whatever inquiries I can assist in. Is this pertaining to my staring? It’s academic in nature, I assure you - frankly, I am used to having a form that hosts many more eyes; being in this Earthly form can present obstacles, as my perceptions are more limited than I can remember them ever being. I promise I do not mean to insult anyone.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s thinking of it as an insult,” Sam intones; Dean shoves his elbow into Sam’s kidney to shut him up.

“This is you being defensive, by the way,” Sam wheezes, doubled over, but still smirking at Dean, “What’s the big deal if there’s nothing going on?”

Flushed, Dean scowls at Sam, drops his shovel, and tells him, “I’m not being defensive! There’s nothing to be defensive about! And I’ll prove it!”

Clambering out of the grave, Dean brushes the soil from his hands onto his dirtier jeans, and stomps more than walks up to Castiel.

“You’ve a cut,” Cas murmurs worriedly, spotting a knick Dean got on his cheek earlier in the day.

“It’s nothing. Listen, Cas -”

Before Dean can get anymore out, Castiel reaches for his left-side cheek, cups that side of his face, and spreads a cooling sensation that knits the skin back together neatly and cleanly.

“Uh - thanks, Cas,” Dean mutters gruffly as Cas takes his hand back.

“My pleasure, Dean.”

Uncharacteristically nervous, Dean glances down at the ground, his hands shoved in his jean pockets, then his eyes skim the ground until they happen upon Sam’s again, and whatever silent exchange they have works Dean up again.

“Cas,” Dean begins, looking into his eyes with determination, “We’re friends, you ‘n me, right?”

“Yes, Dean. You are my most cherished friend,” Castiel answers.

That gives Dean a moment’s pause where he seems to be searching Castiel’s face for some sign of sarcasm or deceit; there is none to be detected, of course.

“I - thanks, man. Uhm. Now - this is gonna sound like a weird question, but bear with me, ‘cause I’m not about to assume consent or something.”

“Okay,” Castiel says in confusion, tilting his head again.

“I’m tryin’a prove a point here to Sam, and to get it across - just - would you be okay with me kissing you? Like, just this once - I promise I won’t make it weird or anything, but I gotta ask, you know? I know you’re not into physical stuff like -”

“You’d like my permission to kiss?” Castiel intercepts neutrally, “Like people do?”

Something about that is funny - or startling? - to both Sam and Dean, and Castiel can’t tell which or for what reasons.

“Yeah. Just this one time,” Dean repeats.

Though he takes a respectable count of four seconds to seem as though he needs to consider his options, Castiel nods, and replies, “of course, Dean. Of all the favors you’ve asked of me before, I assure this is certainly the most convenient and pleasant of them.”

Sam snorts a laugh, Dean tosses a glare at him, and then settles gentle, if a little nervous, eyes back on Castiel.

“Okay…”

Dean steps closer into Cas’ space, bringing them toe-to-toe and he finds himself staring down; he’d not realized Cas was shorter than him. It’s not by much, not really enough to be remarked upon, even, but it means that Cas winds up looking up at him from under the cover of long, dark lashes, and even in the dark of the night, his eyes shine like twinkling gems.

Swallowing with some difficulty, Dean holds loosely onto the lapels of Cas’ trench coat, and he means to go in chaste, he really does, it’s just that he’s actually struggling to breathe a little, so his lips are just barely parted, and Cas - as far as Dean can tell, Cas takes that as a cue.

Because Cas’ full lips press in, but so does his tongue; before Dean can even secure his footing, Cas makes his loose hold on the lapels go tight, licking up into Dean’s mouth without hesitation or mercy.

Praying his shocked gasp wasn’t audible to Sam, Dean just tries to hold on while Cas turns his head, bites Dean’s heavy bottom lip, and then pushes Dean’s mouth more open with his own, and then he drags his hot tongue against Dean’s, coming in broad, and soft.

Dean hears himself make some kind of noise - he can’t tell what it is, because there’s too much blood rushing in his skull - there’s stubble. Stubble. There is stubble in this equation other than his own, and that’s new, and terrifying, and should be wholly unwelcome, but every synapse in his brain dedicated to pleasure is telling him otherwise.

One wide hand insinuates itself under the hem of Dean’s weathered flannel, calloused fingers pressing into his left hip possessively while the other hand glides over his pec, and shoulder to the back of his neck, pinky finger teasing the sensitive skin just under the back of his cotton collar, and thumb brushing the fine hairs at the base of Dean’s skull.

Dean thinks he may be swaying - he’s dizzy.

Cas is dragging him closer, pressing their hips and abdomens together, and Dean’s hands have somehow found better purchase on the front of Cas’ button-down dress shirt than his lapels.

Dean thinks he hears one of the buttons pop off with the strain of his hold, but neither of them seem inclined to do anything about it, so he figures it doesn’t matter; he tries to establish himself as a bit more dominant, thrown off his usual groove by the absolutely sinful way Cas apparently kisses.

To Dean’s simultaneous horror and delight, Cas doesn’t relinquish any control; he won’t be moved, his hands get tighter and hotter where they touch Dean’s skin, he only presses them harder together, and he kisses Dean like he wants to eat him alive.

He kisses Dean like he wants to crawl inside him, like he’s hungry - starved - like kissing is an act of carnage just as much as an act of love, like those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

He’d rather die than admit it to anyone, but Dean’s knees get a little weak, and Cas basically holds up his entire weight by just the grip he’s got on Dean’s waist.

Before he knows it’s happened, Dean’s hard enough to carve stone, and Cas readjusts how they’re slotted against one another to better accommodate Dean’s failing balance, and Cas feels it - he must. Even if he doesn’t feel how hard Dean is against him right away, the guttural moan Dean will deny having made til his dying breath clues him in.

What sounds like hundreds of cherry bombs going off has them stumbling away from each other, and frantically looking about.

The streetlights have exploded. There’s glass everywhere, and based on the echoes of car alarms and distant voices, it’s becoming more and more possible that Cas destroyed the windows and lights of several cars and nearby homes.

Even he and Sam’s flashlights are busted.

In the blanket of darkness that’s settled over the graveyard, Dean can still see clearly, because Cas’ eyes are high beams cutting through the fog of the night.

They’re both panting, Dean’s pretty certain that a resting heart rate isn’t meant to feel like this, and Cas is looking positively feral.

“Jesus fuck!” Sam curses, his arms crossed over his head where he still plucks a shard of glass from his hair.

Reminded of Sam’s presence, Castiel’s head swivels to him, the glow of his eyes dims down, and then he looks back at Dean, visibly frightened.

Dean takes no pleasure in Cas ever being scared, so he reaches out, takes a step back into Cas’ space, but that spooks him more, and in less than a blink of an eye, he’s gone.

Not cool, Cas, Dean thinks loudly, hoping it counts as a prayer that Cas will hear.

Reaching into the front of his jeans, Dean uses the near blackness of the power outage to his advantage, and readjusts himself to the best of his abilities.

It really doesn’t do much.

“Well,” Sam starts pointedly.

Dean, weak at the knees, lips criminally swollen, face flushed, hair mussed and harder than he’s ever been in his life, turns slowly to scowl at Sam.

“That was not nothing.”

Dean doesn’t see a way of winning the argument, so he kicks dirt into Sam’s hair, and leaves him to finish burying.

[muffindaddystyles]

prompt 1 with older brothers best friends!harry 👀

1. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

8. “I said stop staring at me.”

23. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart.”

Third wheeling could never be fun. Not when you’re basically not even a wheel but an invisible person on a vacation watching couples kiss and yada yada.

“For fuck's sake.” Y/N grumbles changing a side snatching the blanket that got stuck under her and sandwiches her face into a pillow when she hears the steel roof atop her creak furiously accompanied by high pitched obnoxious moans.

Y/N's brother brought her along to their Italy trip, his wife’s bestfriend and his own bestfriend tagged along too leaving only Y/N to grump about their wild sex rendezvous.

She’s sleepless, homesick and probably about to get a stomach bug for living in yacht for four days atleast!

What’s so fun about jiggling in your sleep? None perhaps and the waves crashing at night that threatens you to swallow you down to the pit of ocean --- my pal, nothing is entertaining about it. Atleast for Y/N. She’s more of a hill station going person with her pup Frankenstein that oogles out from his small globe like window, comfy in his lil bag that Y/N moves around on her shoulders everywhere.

When the fracas of whatever’s taking place up doesn’t comes to halt, Y/N had enough, she isn’t very versed in coping with such situations since her dorm-mate is very nice.

So, she’s throwing the lid away to pop her head through the square like space and spreads her elbows up the roof, “Aish.” She immediately covers her eyes upon the sight of his brother and his wife doing it.

Their expressions comically panicked as they embarrassingly scrambles to clutch the flimsy sheets over them.

“Who does it all naked under an open sky?” She squeaks out, feeling her pulse tick and she peeks out towards the darkness from the slight gap of her fingers which are barely helping her avoid the scene that’d haunt her for life.

“Them bunnies and monkeys, ‘n many of our kind, Sweetheart.” She rolls her eyes at the familiarity of deep slow rumble that’s a bit slurred, probably from the Tequila they took with them. The voice never fails to froth bubbles in Y/N's tummy and it always involuntarily makes her nails dig into her palms.

Harry and Tina’s bestfriend went out to roam around Italy, or they told so and Albeit Y/N very well knows their intentions were more to exploring the city she didn’t butt in.

“I’ve a name and it’s not, Sweetheart.” She dismisses him with a grumble and his smirk shines through the shadow aggravating Y/N to an extreme she slips down shutting the door (like lid) at the them.

Harry Styles. Y/N's brother’s bestfriend. He’s everything Y/N loathes about. Bright green eyes, silken features and that dopey pearlish smile that makes everyone fall in love with him in nano-seconds.

To Y/N. He is an incubus. A witch that allures people without even knowing.

He’s a narcissistic asshole and Y/N's bad boy dream, unfortunately.

She hates herself for having a puppy crush on him for years now.

That friggin, Asshole.

He’s with everyone but her. It seems as if he’s getting stung by bees upon the mere closeness between them. A lamb ready to bite her down his stomach if she steps a foot near him.

At the moment when she’s sitting with her knees pressed to her chest, swollen eyes and puffy lips from not getting sleep last night.

She’s really hating that Harry looks so hot from the swim he just took as he dries himself sitting opposite to her. The droplets twinkling on his tanned thick body, his trunks wrinkled and bunched up into his thighs baring the tiger tattoo on front, his hair wet and oh so fucking tug-able – Y/N feels like Rachel from friends thinking all of that.

“Stop staring,” She mutters out loud when he wouldn’t stop licking the saltiness from his pink bottom lip keeping his intense gaze on her.

“What did y'say?” He pretends that we too engulfed in something else.

“I said stop staring at me.” Y/N grits. It’s annoying because it’s making her belly feel funny and loopy.

“The hills behind y'are just s'admirable.” He elevates his shoulders a bit panicked from inside and Y/N forced herself to not to twitch her eye when his chest muscles flexes due to his action.

Bamboozled she takes a glance from her shoulder to where he diverted his sight once she caught him. Her nose scrunched up and chin butted in disgust at the scenery, “That’s literally a heap of dead fishes!”

“Better than starin’ into a dead soul.” His lips down turned into a careless grimace and Y/N gasps out loud pushing the strands of her hair sticking to all of her face because of the breeze gush, “Why would you say that!?”

“’Cos you’re so mauve, that’s why?” He just wants to take a piss out of her. Nobody’s around and he’s finally getting time to talk to her even if it just to sit cross legged on her nerves and sip tea.

He’s actually lying. He thinks she’s more than mauve. She’s all those colours that usually macarons have, all those hues that butterflies wings have and all those tinctures that one find in gems then keep them safe.

She’s the colour he misses in his life.

“And you’re so fucking blue!” She grumbles and that slithered a deep wicked smile on Harry’s lips, “Like this deep ocean yer afraid of?” Her eyes widens at that and she almost lunges on her knees.

How did he know? Ofcourse, he'd. He’s everywhere. In every damn picture of wherever they went for recreation.

“I’m not.” She scoffs, her tone inconvenient and hazy as she shrinks into herself.

“Then take a dip,” She wishes that she could wipe that beautiful stupid smirk off his gorgeous stupidly lame face.

“Kiss my ass.” She spat out throwing a cushion towards him that lands on his lap, “I’d love to.” He barks out a laugh that rings through the waves.

“You’re such a stinky asshole.” She hits him with another that dumps against his chest, “Ow!” He feigns hurt with ridiculous comical expressions and throws the cushion back towards her which she successfully dodges, but, it falls behind her into the water.

“Shit.” She complains ducking around the edge of the yacht and stretches her arm to the plausible extent to grab the floating cushion.

Though when the tips of her toes leaves the seat she was on and she’s bending too much for her own sake Harry’s standing upright, “Hey stop —-" But. It’s too late as with a high pitched squeaky shriek Y/N's rolling first and falling into the water leaving Harry frozen for a second.

Panic chokes her throat and she moves her limbs around everywhere splashing water vigorously. Mouth gasping for oxygen but all that comes is salty water filling her mouth and lungs too, maybe as she sinks deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, Y/N!!” He shouts out jumping to save her immediately knowing she doesn’t know how to swim and he’s wrapping his palm around her neck and pulling her from her waist to himself under the water as she watches him with frightened fading eyes.

He comes back to surface quickly and presses her to his chest. She too clings to him for dear life feeling herself drift into a state of unconsciousness and hard to breath while he grabs the deck and lifts her with himself to it.

He doesn’t risk a chance and lays her limp body down and clasps his hands together pushing them against where her heat beats feebly, winces when she spurts out water painfully.

“Baby...fuck.” He pats her soaked pale cheek anxiously when she still remains unresponsive to him, breathing wearily so he does what has to be done.

He grabbed her chin, squished her cheeks making her lips pucker out and wrapped his mouth around hers sucking the water out and spat it out once his mouth was full.

His eyes slip shuts and he slumps with relief when Y/N coughs out loudly into his chest and he brings her into him murmuring assurance into her wet hair.

“You’re okay darling,” His whisper wavers from the trembling of his lips and his fingers divots into her softest of skin when he hugs her tightly, “’M sorry ‘s me fault, Sweets.” He rubs the bridge of his nose to take the sniff of her scent to calm him down and she shakes her head unable to talk, hands bunched up against his tummy.

“You should rest, yeah?” His gaze soft with care and it’s baffling for Y/N that he ever had this side too. Before, she could be on her feet he slipped his strong arms under her and hoists her up and into him without any trouble.

If Y/N wouldn’t be feeling very droopy and breathless she sure would have fought with him, maybe blushed and hid her face into his neck but she’s already knocking out in his arms from the stingy feeling in her eyes that made her super duper sleepy.

..

Clouds. Y/N's merged into them and they cover every inch of Y/N, wait where am I? She feels real nice comforted around with such warm bedding and she sure knows it’s not hers. The blurry sight infront of her is enough to aware her and a perfectly calloused hand comes rubbing her shoulder when she tries to sit up.

“Not heaven, o'summat.” He chuckles airily. His smile small and a tad awkward, he’s changed into another pair of trunks that are yellow and his upper half now sadly is covered from a blue tee.

“How you feelin'?” Y/N let his question fly over her head and stutters out loudly, “Why you being s'nice to me now?” It etches a frown on his face but soon it vanishes into an expression that Y/N couldn’t pick point.

“You’ve always been such a meanie...” She murmurs glumly. White sheets tangling around her torso as she moves infront of him – their knees touching.

“I umm –-...like you, I guess?” He has never been this nervous and jumblish with words.

“You guess?” She asks and scared that he missed up he rushes out to hold her and to make her believe that his feelings are true.

“No, no! I’m sure. I like you very much.” That puts Y/N into silence where she stares the gleaming jewels onto his fingers and ponders over what he said.

Harry Styles. Her first kiss. Her very first candy love crush and her dream of bad boy actually likes her back.

She tries to ignore the party poppers going inside her body and the drums of happiness rolling around her heart.

“But ... Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” She doesn’t meet his eyes smoothing out the crinkles of sheets and her palm halts immediately when Harry hooks his thumb under her chin and raises it gaze lovingly into her eyes with sincerity, “Just ‘cos I stole yer first kiss?”

He laughs out sweetly when she bobs her head vigorously, “C’mon we were just sixteen! I’d have made sure to tell y'to keep it safe fo’ your precious person if I knew back then.” His pupils gleaming with hope and a tinge of eagerness.

The next thing she said with a slight bubbly pout caught Harry off-guard and in awe that how to process what she said with so much liability and vulnerability.

“But you’re my precious person!!”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins with a dimple tutting in and grabs her small cold hands to pull her closer to him.

The sweet name shies Y/N away and Harry thinks she couldn’t be more endearing as he takes her soft looking puffy face in the warm embrace of his hands and bops their noses together.

“Then g’na make sure ‘m your last.” He murmurs feathering his lips to the corner of her mouth that flutters her eyelids like butterflies and she pants out for more with a sweet whine, “Shit. You’re still very candy like since I last kissed ye'.” He giggles stroking his thumb up her cheek and takes a lick of her jutted bottom lip.

“Harry....” She complains tugging his weary shirt, “Yes me baby?” He quips out with those fake surprised eyes he makes with raised brows and puppy gaze.

“Kiss me alre –—,” He's swallowing her words down with the tender smush of his lips against hers in a kiss that’s slow and comforting at first, hearing onto the noises that she creates from tasting him and it deepens into something ardent and red when Harry pulls her over his thighs and guides her arms around his neck.

Their foreheads comes touching. Their hearts in sync and beside eachother. Their tongues loving on eachother.

“Dunno if I could ever stop.” He whispers breaking the knot of spit that connects their mouths with the stroke of his thumb against her shinning lip and pecks that spot twice.

“Then don’t.” Y/N looses her brain cells and only butterflies to whoosh into her skull as she grabs his jaw never letting him go and kisses him harder and rougher this time.

She’s gonna be in oh so much love with this bad boy that’s such a softie for her and she knows that there’s no going back.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter one: you like milkshakes?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.3K

notes: confession, i am struggling these days with my insane attraction to min yoongi.  this guy has it all.  looks and talent and mystery and sweetness -- he’s the total package. so i really wanted to give him a story in this AU that i’ve come to love so much and i truly hope you guys enjoy it.  

i also hope you guys know how much i appreciate every single one of you. i see your reblogs and comments and likes and i try to answer every one because it truly makes my day.  you guys make my day.

i could not post this fic without shouting out the amazing @hobi-gif because honestly, if hope didn’t read it, did i even write it? and i’m sending major love to three people who are such a source of laughter and support for me, @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna @taetaewonderland. you guys keep me in stitches.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece! Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

*************************

Yoongi had fucked up.

He’d misread the massive man’s approach, tracking him in one direction when the guy was actually headed in another.  That’s how the asshole managed to catch Yoongi off guard with one meaty fist to the face. 

It didn’t matter that it was hundreds of pounds of fat -- not muscle -- behind that punch.  It was wielding more than enough momentum to blow up the side of Yoongi’s face like a bomb. 

That’s the night he landed in the ER at Songdo at nearly two in the morning, pressing gauze to his bleeding face.  

That’s the night he found himself chuckling inside an empty exam room, reading triage paperwork that made him sound like some kind of war hero instead of just an idiot who got caught looking the wrong way.

That’s the night he met you.

“Rough evening, Mister Yun?” 

Yoongi had looked up from the floor just as you’d breezed into the room, tablet in hand.  That moment marked the second time he’d been caught off guard that night.

“That looks like it hurts,” you’d murmured sympathetically, eyes raking over the bloody mess on his face.  Your gaze was clinical -- professional -- as you assessed his grossly swollen eye and the half dozen bleeding cuts that surrounded it.  

But then you’d stopped looking at him -- and stepped back to really look at him.  

Yoongi had taken one look at your enormous, dark eyes and your soft, sweet face and he was dumbstruck.  He’d blinked back at you with the only eye that could still move.  

“You’re a doctor?”

“Nope,” you’d replied casually, turning to reach for a pair of latex gloves. “I’m a janitor. But I’ve always wanted to give this medicine thing a try. You don’t mind, right?”  

Your eyes had sparkled then, bright with humor -- and Yoongi couldn’t help but grin despite the pain pulsing from the left side of his face.

“Here’s the deal, Mister Yun,” you’d said, pulling on your gloves.  “I’m a resident.  And I’m more than qualified to handle the -- situation -- on your face, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for the attending, I’m happy to step back.  Good luck seeing him before sunrise, though.”

“Nah,” Yoongi had chuckled.  “I think I’ll take my chances with you.”

“Good call.”

You’d leaned in close after that, gloved fingers firm under his chin as you turned his face from side to side.  You’d smelled fucking amazing.  The light, fresh scent that lingered on your skin sure as hell beat the disinfectant odor in this place.

“What happened to you tonight, Mister Yun?”

“It’s a funny story, actually.”

“Oh, great,” you’d said dryly.  “‘Cause it turns out, I love funny stories.”

Yoongi had flinched when you’d peeled the gauze back, exposing the angry wounds to the air.  But he’d forced himself to sit dutifully still as you got to work cleaning the caked blood off his face and eye.

“Thing is, I work for the circus,” he’d started, hissing under his breath when you swiped across an open cut above his eye.  “One of the elephants got rowdy while we were practicing a number tonight and just kicked me right in the face.”

You’d stopped dabbing at his eye then, one brow raised and a cynical slant to your mouth.

Yoongi liked that you knew he was full of shit right away. 

He liked that you’d played along anyway.

“God, I hate when that happens,” you’d said with feigned outrage, cutting your eyes at him as you dropped a piece of bloody gauze on the tray at his side.  

“I know, right?”

That’s when Yoongi had won a real smile from you, wide and genuine.  That's when Yoongi made the mistake of looking at you for just a moment too long.  

He knew it by the way your smile fell away as you cleared your throat and turned your focus back to his damaged face.

“Well, I have good news for you Mister Yun,” you’d said after a while, eyes scanning the freshly cleaned wounds.  You’d run your gloved fingers gently over one particularly deep slash over his eye and Yoongi felt a shudder run up his back.  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to live.”

“Well, that is good news.”

There was that smile again.  

It seemed like no time at all before you had him all patched up -- cuts sanitized and sealed with skin adhesive; swollen eye cleaned and medicated.  Yoongi had felt a strange kind of disappointment as he’d watched you gather your supplies, pull your gloves off and drop them in the trash can near the door.

“You’re all set, Mister Yun,” you’d murmured. “Watch out for those elephants, okay? I’d hate for them to ruin a perfectly nice face.”

Then you were gone.

***************************

Thing is -- Kim Namjoon is a rules guy.

It doesn’t matter that he runs a criminal organization -- or that the men in his employ are gangsters in custom ties and suits.  He expects dirty work done clean because that’s what sets the Gajog apart.

Rotate hospitals.  Use fake names.  Pay in cash.

All of those protocols are in place to keep any one of the Gajog from drawing unwanted attention.  Truthfully, Namjoon’s operations usually run so neatly his men rarely have to seek treatment for anything beyond the occasional black eye or broken bone.  That’s why he’d rather trust his men to legitimate doctors in legitimate hospitals than hand them over to some back-alley hack.

Thing is -- shit has gotten a lot more heated of late.  

An audit of the Gajog books has turned up millions in missing won, stolen over time by street-level guys all over the city.  Yoongi and Hoseok are the ones on the front lines, tasked with confronting those men -- getting them to pay and getting them back in line.

Sometimes they play ball.  Sometimes they don’t.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Yoongi knew the moment they arrived at the crumbling warehouse in the Nowon district that shit was probably going to get messy.  Their contact was fucked up -- sloppy drunk -- and belligerent from the jump.

After that, everything was a blur.

At some point during the scuffle, Yoongi heard his hand crunch under the heavy weight of the man’s steel-toed boot. The pain was still flaring hot from his knuckles when Hoseok finally took the guy down.  

Right now Yoongi should be at Asan or Gachon or any of the other half-dozen hospitals in the city.  He should have dragged his tired ass and bloody hand across town because those are the rules.

But instead -- for the second time in a month -- he’s sitting under the sickly fluorescent lights in an empty exam room at Songdo at nearly three in the morning.

Hoping to see you. 

*************************

Yoongi is gingerly flexing his aching fingers when a light knock sounds at the door.

It was a long shot that you’d be here tonight -- and an even longer shot that you’d be the one treating him. But when the door to the exam room opens, it’s you on the other side.

Yoongi’s pulse picks up in response.

“Sorry to keep you waiting tonight Mister -- ”  you stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide on his before darting back down the tablet in your hand.  You scan the screen slowly then look back up, gaze critical.

“ -- Mister Woo.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi replies casually.  “It’s no problem.”

You approach him slowly then, disbelief etched into your delicate features and Yoongi takes in every detail.

It’s like he’d forgotten how pretty you are since the last time he saw you.

You’re nothing like the flashy women who like to hang around the usual Gajog haunts.  You’re the kind of pretty that doesn’t cost hundreds of thousands of won a month to maintain.  The kind of pretty that doesn’t come off at the end of the night. 

Yoongi swallows thickly as you eye him, lips parted like you’re about to fire off a hundred different questions.  But you don’t.  

You play along.  

Again.

“Right.  Let’s get to it then, Mister Woo,” you say carefully, slipping on your gloves.  “What happened to your hand?”

“Well, you see, I’m a hot air balloon operator.”  

His mouth quirks into a smile and your eyes flash in response.  

“Wind was nuts today and the basket came down on my hand.  I think I might have broken something.”

“Hmm,” you murmur.  “Hot air balloon operator, huh?”

Yoongi winces when you take his hand between your gloved ones, gently applying pressure to each knuckle.

“Yeah.”

“That’s an interesting way to make a living, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi chokes down a groan when you press against one particularly sore spot.  You back off the pressure, turning to make a note on your chart.

“Well, I’m an interesting guy,” he whispers.  

You look up at him then, dark eyes focused and intense.  

“That you are.”

You’re looking at Yoongi like you can see inside him and the scrutiny makes him squirm.�� He lowers his eyes to the floor and keeps quiet while you clean his hand and apply ointment to his cuts.

“Mister Woo, it looks like most of these are surface abrasions, but the knuckles concern me.  I’m going to have to send you for an X-ray.”

“Yeah, okay.  It hurts like hell.”

“I bet it does,” you say quietly, typing into your tablet.  “Someone is going to come and take you back when they’re ready.  I have to go check on some other patients, but I’ll be back when we have some images to go over.”

“Sure,” Yoongi breathes.

You take another long look at him before standing to leave and Yoongi wonders for a moment if he’s made a mistake. Maybe he’s misread you like he misread that brawler who caught him with the nasty punch all those weeks ago.  

You could be off to flag a security guard.  Or leaving to call the police.

He really should have just followed protocol.

Yoongi sits in the quiet of that exam room waiting -- ready -- for trouble that never comes.  Because when a knock finally sounds at the door, it’s not the Korean National Police.  

It’s the X-ray technician.

Maybe he didn’t misread you after all.

*********************

It takes hours for you to come back.

“Mixed news tonight, Mister Woo,” you say upon your return.  “You have hairline fractures in three of your knuckles, which explains the pain.  Unfortunately, that means I’m not going to be able to do much for you beyond wrapping your hand.”

Yoongi nods.  “Got it.”

“And you should probably lay off the ballooning for a while,” you say under your breath as you lay out your bandages.  “Just a suggestion.”

“Good idea,” Yoongi chuckles.  “Safety first.”

You fix him with another one of those long, indecipherable looks before getting to work on his hand.  But you don’t say anything and the longer the silence stretches on, the antsier Yoongi feels.

“So…” he exhales, clearing his throat, “... you like milkshakes?”

“Everyone likes milkshakes,” you return evenly.  You don’t take your eyes off his hand or the flexible material you’re carefully wrapping around his sore knuckles. 

“Lactose intolerant people don’t like milkshakes.”

“Lactose intolerant people like milkshakes as much as the rest of us,” you argue.  “They just can’t tolerate them.”

“What are you, some kind of doctor?”

Your lips quirk with the threat of a laugh you manage to suppress but Yoongi catches the expression before it disappears.  You seem to relax after that.  He does, too.

“Dijeoteu has the best milkshakes in the city.  Ever been there?”

“Can’t say that I have,” you admit, taping off a bandage.  

“It’s not far from here.  Open twenty-four hours.  I hang out there sometimes.”

“So you’re a milkshake-drinking hot-air balloon enthusiast,” you murmur, inspecting your handiwork closely.  “Anything else I should know about you, Mister Woo?’

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Not really.  That about covers it.”

You hum thoughtfully under your breath as you finish wrapping the bruised knuckles.

“All done.  How does it feel?”

“Better,” Yoongi admits.  “Thanks.”

You gaze at him then, thoughtful -- expression soft with something that looks almost like concern.  Yoongi drops his gaze down to his bandaged hand.

This is the part where you’ve finished -- the part where you leave.  

This is the part where he should say something to you but he has no idea what or how.

“I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate,” you announce, voice breaking clear through his stupor.

You turn back to him just as you’re walking towards the door, and for a moment Yoongi thinks you’re going to give in and ask him any one of the dozens of questions that must be swirling around your mind.

But you don’t.

“Try to take care of that hand, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi nods.

“Thanks, Doc.”

**********************

YOU

Doctor Lee is on his Houdini shit tonight, apparently.

The ER is packed -- waiting room crowded with crabby patients -- and you are, once again, running yourself ragged to get to every last one.  Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.

“Page him again,” you call out as you pass the charge nurse outside an exam room.  

A quick scan of your tablet confirms the toddler behind this magic door has been vomiting all night.  You shut your eyes and wish a slow, violent death on your absent attending.  Vomit is the single worst phenomenon in medicine.

“I’ve paged him three times,” Nurse Ko calls back.

“Page him again,” you repeat, forcing a smile and pushing into the room.

Thirty minutes and one change of scrubs later you are checking charts on the next patient in line.  You pat the pocket of your new scrubs and realize you’ve left a half-eaten energy bar around here somewhere.  

No chance you’ll get that back.

Lee picks this moment to reappear, back from doing God knows what.  He strolls down the hallway like a man with nothing on his to-do list.

“You paged for me?” he inquires casually.

“A few times, actually,” you mutter.  “I’m getting killed out here.”

“Relax,” Lee purrs, condescension dripping from his tone.  “We’ll get it done.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from firing back the half-dozen nasty responses that spring to mind. There is no we when it comes to Doctor Lee.  He’s always been flighty and inconsistent, but these days he’s practically a missing person.  You’re still not sure how hospital management hasn’t figured out that he’s making his resident run the overnight ER.

“There’s a guy down the hall who says he swallowed a magnet,” you say, waving a hand in that direction.  “If you can pick him up I can get to this head trauma.”

Lee sighs like it’s a major inconvenience that you’ve asked him to do his job.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it.”

***********************

It’s nearly four in the morning by the time you have a chance to catch your breath.

You walk out to scan the waiting area and to your relief, there are only a handful of patients yet to be seen.  Then your eyes land on one young man -- slumped into a chair in an oversized coat, hat pulled low over his eyes.

You freeze.  

The man in the chair must feel your stare from across the room because he straightens, giving you a better look at the face hidden under the brim of his hat.  You let go of a breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding.

It’s not him.  

It’s not the mysterious man with the fake names and the bogus stories and the insanely handsome face. You shake your head as you look back down at your tablet, silently chastising yourself for even entertaining the thought.  

You shouldn’t still be thinking about this guy and you know it.

But it’s driving you nuts that you can’t figure him out.

He’s never tried to play you for pills and that seems to be the only thing people lie about these days. But if his problem isn’t drugs it’s certainly something because no one lands in the hospital that many times, with that many phoney stories unless they’re up to no good.

So you ignore the nonsensical disappointment you feel when the guy in that chair is not the guy. 

Because deep down you know he’s either in trouble -- or he is trouble.

***********************

Your pager goes off for a second time and you silence the alert, tossing it onto a nearby blanket.

It’s not like you’re hiding out in here -- not really. 

It’s just that you’ve already had one patient cough up blood on your sneakers and another swing at you when you refused to give him narcotics, so this night is off to a spectacularly bad start.

Besides, Doctor Lee could use a taste of his own medicine.  

This week has been the worst, by far.  You’ve been seeing at least three patients to his every one and you’re exhausted.  If there’s any justice, he’s walking into the exam room where the infant with explosive diarrhea is waiting to be seen -- you check your watch -- right about now.

The door to the linen closet cracks open and you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“What, you thought I didn’t know about your little hiding place?”  Nurse Ko asks with a grin.  “I find everyone’s hiding place, eventually.”

“Haven’t found Lee’s yet,” you gripe. 

“Yeah, well he’s sneakier,” she laughs.  “Here, I brought you something.”  

She tosses a granola bar at you and it lands in your lap.  

“Thanks,” you sigh, ripping it open.  You take a bite and Ko leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t page you for my health, you know.”

“I know,” you whine around a mouthful of dried oats.  “I just needed five minutes.”

“Well, I’ve got a guy out here who says he’ll only see you.  Doesn’t want Doctor Lee and says he’ll wait as long as it takes.”

A piece of the granola bar lodges in your throat and you cough around it, spluttering while Ko looks on, amused.  She waits for you to collect yourself.

“Is he -- ”

“ -- hot? Yes. Very,” Ko smiles.  

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment at both the observation and the fact that it’s coming from a woman in her sixties.

“I was going to say young,” you grumble, standing and dusting your hands off with a towel.

“That, too.  Come to think of it, I know I’ve seen him here before.  You have some kind of admirer, jagiya?”

You flush.

**************************

“Good evening, Mister Kim.”

You hope the air of nonchalance you affect when you enter the exam room is enough to mask your jitters.  

Your mystery patient looks back at you with those dark eyes and a half-smirk that makes your heart trip in your chest.  You take a steadying breath as you look down at your tablet.

Get it together, girl.

“What brings you in tonight?” you inquire lightly.  “Sword-swallowing accident?  Lose a fist fight with a bear?”

Your mysterious patient chuckles under his breath.  

“Where would you get a couple of outlandish ideas like that, Doc?”

You look up at him just as the teasing smirk on his face becomes a full smile and heat blooms in your chest and face.  You force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“I dislocated my shoulder.  Did you know I work air traffic control at Incheon?”

You shake your head with amused weariness as you make notes on your tablet.

“Crazy night.  One of the planes nearly slid off the runway and I threw my shoulder out trying to get it back on track.”

“Did you save it?”

“Saved it and all 227 people on board.”

“Bravo, Mister Kim.” 

“Just doing my job,” he shrugs.  

You set your tablet down on the exam table with a thump, eyeing him as you reach for a pair of gloves.

“The charge nurse says you asked for me.”

“I did,” he admits.  “You never told me what your favorite kind of milkshake is.”

You cock your head to the side as you look at him.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mister Kim,” you murmur, feigning ignorance. “According to my records this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.”

“Oh, yeah.  Right,” he chuckles.  

“You need some help getting undressed?”

“Yeah,” he admits, slipping one arm out of his leather jacket.  You lean in to help him pull the other side off, compelling yourself to ignore the way he smells like soap and sweat and man when you’re this close.

“It’s strawberry.”

You blurt the words out, anxious to give your brain a task that doesn’t involve analyzing this man’s smell.  Something about the mischievous twist to his mouth tells you he knows you’re flustered by his nearness.  

“I would have guessed chocolate,” he muses, reaching one hand down to grab the hem of his shirt. He drags it up his abdomen and you will your eyes to stay on his face -- refusing to give him any indication that you have more than a clinical interest in what lies underneath.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” you argue, taking over when he can’t get the shirt up any higher.  You push it over his head and carefully work it off his shoulder.  “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”

“Mission accomplished, Doc.”

He gazes at you then -- chest bare and eyes sharp beneath those inky lashes --  and you feel a bolt of awareness run the length of your spine. You pray the heat you suddenly feel all over your body is not manifesting in damning spots of color on your face.  

You remind yourself to get back to work. 

He sucks a breath between his teeth when you press gently against the inflamed muscle and tissue.

“My shoulder’s been shit for years,” he confesses.  “I screwed it up when I was a kid and it hasn’t been the same since.”

“So this happens to you from time to time?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then I’m going to have to refer you for an MRI,” you say, and he groans when you press into his shoulder again.  “There could be a lot of scar tissue in here, but I won’t be able to know what’s going on until we get some clear scans.”

Your eyes flick back to his.  

Every word that’s ever come out of this man’s mouth is a lie -- but there’s something that feels honest about the way he’s looking at you right now.  Something that makes you feel seasick, unsteady.

“Turn to the side for me,” you say quietly, and the thin paper that lines the exam table rustles as he complies.  The relief you feel when he pivots away from you with those eyes and that look is whole-bodied.  

“For now, the best I can do is probably pop -- “

Your words trail off as your eyes lock on a wound that sits just a few inches from his spine, just above the line of his jeans.  The edges are white and soft with age -- the area long-healed -- but the trauma is unmistakable.  

Textbook.  

The anger you feel as you stare at the wound doesn’t make any sense.  

But you feel it anyway.

“Is it still inside of you, or did they pull it out?”

“What -- ”

“-- The bullet Mister Kim,” you interrupt sharply.  “If it’s still in you, I promise it will come out the second they load you into an MRI machine.  The hard way.”

The muscles of his back flex as he stiffens.  Tension bleeds into the lines of his body and into his voice when he finally speaks.

“It’s out.”

Neither of you says another word.

The room feels hollow now, painfully quiet without talk of elephants or hot air balloons or milkshakes.  The two of you work together silently to crack his abused shoulder back into place.  Somehow he manages to endure that pain without making a sound.

In the end, it’s you that has to speak first.

“That should hold you for now,” you say tightly, standing to toss your gloves in the trash.   You grab your tablet to make notes.

“You mad at me, Doc?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter, fingers flying over your screen.  “I don’t even know you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re mad at me?”

You tear your eyes away from the screen to find his.  

There’s no teasing or humor there anymore.  He looks boyish and unsure like this, peering back at you with somber eyes from beneath long black bangs that have fallen into his face.

“No more stories, no more bullshit.  Tell me who you are.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can think better of them -- before you can consider how stupid it is to interrogate a complete stranger with a now confirmed history of violence.  Before you can consider that you have no right to the anger that now streaks white-hot through your veins.

“I can’t,” he breathes quietly.  “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head in disgust.

“Are you dangerous?”

Before he even speaks, you get your answer.  You get it in the way color erupts across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.  The way he looks away from you and down to his hands.

“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he whispers.

“I’m asking you,” you fire back.

He doesn’t answer.

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for him to say something in his defense. Waiting for him to pull another gag and tell just one more ridiculous story.  But the seconds tick by and he says nothing.

“A nurse is going to come by with a sling. She’ll help you get dressed, too,” you say tightly, walking to the door.

You don’t know why your heart feels like it seizes in your chest when you turn to give him one more look.

“Take care of yourself, Mister Kim,” you say quietly.  “And don’t come back.”

*****************************

Glossary:

Dijeoteu: dessert

Jagiya: sweetie, sweetheart

*****************************

Tag List!

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[chrizbang]

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: Romance, eventual smut

Warnings: idol!Chan, kissing

Word count: 1.782

"You have no idea how much I wanted to do this"

After a few days, Chan finally managed to get some free time for your movie date. This time, Mia wasn't able to help you get ready because she was on a trip with her boyfriend. Still, she sent you a text giving you some tips so you could look the best for your second date. You knew that it was going to happen at Chan's house again and his friends would be there, so you decided to wear something simple, a t-shirt and blue jeans. You weren't as nervous as on the first date because you saw how sweet Chan was, but it didn't mean that you weren't nervous at all. Especially because you were going to meet his friends, except for Hyunjin, which you were already introduced to. You decided to take a look a Stray Kids' songs so you would at least an idea of what was expecting you. You were awestruck. You were never interested on K-pop, but they were so talented. The singing, the rapping, the dancing, all of it was fascinating. You watched some live performances and you couldn't take your eyes off Chan. His stage presence, his voice and, his dancing were a dangerous combo. And you had to admit that you enjoyed way too much the performances where he would lift his shirt up or he would wear crop tops. You didn't realize that it was getting late and you had to leave for your date. When you arrived at his house, you took a moment to take a deep breath and to calm yourself down. If Chan's friends were as nice as him, it would all be okay. You stopped in front of the door and knocked on it. You waited but nobody answered. You knocked again and somebody finally answered. "Oh, hello there," a guy with a pretty smile said when he opened the door. "Hi," you shyly said. "Please come in," he suggested, giving you space so you could come inside. The house looked the same as the last time you went there, but this time the house was way fuller. "Guys, Y/N is here," the boy announced and everyone got up to greet you. You couldn't see Chan anywhere so it made you feel a little timid. Each one of them introduced themselves to you and they all looked like they were nice people. Felix even hugged you tight, he looked really excited to meet you. "It's good to see you again, Y/N. Please take a seat," Hyunjin said, pointing to the couch in the middle of the living room. "Where's Chan?" you timidly asked, almost whispering. "He's getting ready. He was working on the studio until some minutes ago so he got a little late," he said, apologetically. "Oh, it's okay." They engaged in a conversation and you stayed there, watching them, not knowing what to say. "Guys, you are going to scare the guest away with all this noise," Chan said, entering the living room. You felt your heart stutter a nervous tempo in your chest when you heard his voice. Chan walked around the couch, his eyes never leaving you. Jisung was sitting by your side and Chan made a movement with his hand, telling him to get up so he could sit there. "Hi," you smiled when he sat next to you. "Hi. Sorry for being late, I had a lot of work today."

"It's fine."

"What are we going to watch?" Seungmin asked. "How about we let our guest choose?" Minho suggested. Everybody looked at you and you had to restrain yourself from running away. "Anything for me is fine," you remarked. "Let's watch a horror movie then," Changbin said. The movie started and everyone took a seat. The couch you were sitting on had only two sits, so there was only you and Chan. You had your hand on top of your thigh for a moment. Suddenly, you felt the warm skin of Chan's hand touching yours. He held your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I told you I would hold your hand," he whispered in your ear. You looked at him and smiled.

For a moment, you felt a wave of boldness in your body and you decided to lay your head on Chan's shoulder. Didn't take long before his head was laying on top of yours too, making you feel safe and cozy. "You know what? This movie is really good but we have some work to do at the studio, right Jisung?" Changbin whined, looking at Jisung. It took a moment for him to answer since he was too interested in the movie. "Oh, yeah." Jisung briefly looked at Chan. "We have a lot to do." "It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," Changbin said before leaving the room with Jisung, who waved at you enthusiastically. The room was quiet again for a while until you heard someone yawning. "I think we should go to sleep," Minho stretched his body and got up from the couch. "Yeah, it's getting late and we had a lot of practice today," Felix said. "Enjoy the movie, guys," Minho purred, looking at you. By his expression and the tone of his voice, he looked like he was kind of teasing you. Chan's hand stopped holding yours, making you feel upset for a moment. until you felt his arm around your shoulder. "This movie is boring. I'm gonna play video games," Jeongin complained, getting up and going to his room. "I'm going with you," Hyunjin said. They both stopped and looked at Seungmin as if they were waiting for something. Seungmin frowned and followed them. "Bye, Y/N," he said before going up the stairs with his friends. So there you were, just you and Chan, in the living room, alone. You felt Chan's body getting closer to yours, which made your heart skip a beat.

His hand started to play with the hair at the back of your neck and you had to use all the strength you had to stop yourself from shivering. "Are you enjoying the movie?" he asked you "Yeah. I like horror movies." "Me too." After some minutes, you broke the silence. "Chan?" "Yeah." Chan looked at you, all his attention was on you. "Did you plan with your friends to leave us alone?" "Uhm...maybe?" You laughed, hiding your face with your hands. "I hope it's not a problem," he said, giving you the cutest look. There was no way that you would be upset at him. "I thought it was funny. That wasn't very natural." "I know," he laughed. There was an awkward silence for a moment. Your attention was on the TV but you noticed that he was looking at him, which made you look at him. "Can I- Can I kiss you?" "Yes." Chan slowly got closer to you. His eyes were on yours until he looked at your lips, making him lick his lips. When his lips finally touched yours, you felt your breath catching in your throat. His lips were soft and warm, making you want more. His left hand held delicately onto your neck while his right one grabbed your waist. You let your hand run through his chest while the other held onto the collar of his shirt. The kiss was sweet and slow, with passion radiating from both of you. You don't know how long you kissed because you got lost in the feeling of his lips on yours. Eventually, you stopped to catch your breath. You looked at Chan and he had the prettiest smile on his face, his lips red and swollen from the kissing. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this," he purred. You smiled and tried to hide your face but Chan didn't let you. "Don't be shy," he whined. "I really like you, Chan," you said before you could stop yourself. Chan widened his eyes, surprised by your words. You started to panic, thinking that you taking things ahead of yourself. But you felt a wave of relief when Chan kissed you again, holding your face with your hands. "You have no idea how much I like you, Y/N," he whispered, against your lips. "Ever since I met you, I have to work harder to keep myself focused because I keep thinking about you all the time. You are getting me in trouble." "It's not my intention," you laughed. "Do you wanna eat something?" he asked. "I wanna kiss you." Chan smiled. He kissed you again but this time, the kiss was more intense. He ran his tongue on your lips and when you opened your mouth, he slid his tongue inside of it. You lightly sucked on it and Chan left a small moan to leave his mouth. You had to press your legs together after hearing him like that. You grabbed his hair, playing with his tongue. Chan explored your mouth as you kissed, while he held your body close to his. You had had to stop, again, to take a breath. "Shit," you said when you looked at the hour on your phone. "I really have to go home." "I'll take you home." Chan got up, looking for his shoes. "Oh no, you don't have to, I'll get an Uber." "I'm not gonna let you take an Uber this late at night," he insisted. "But what if somebody sees us together. Isn't this going to get you in trouble?" "It's really late. I don't think it's going to be a problem." You finally accepted Chan's ride. He kept talking to you about some stuff but you only paid attention to how sexy he looked while he drove. The sleeve of his shirt clung to his arm so tightly, like it's was going to be ripped apart any moment. The veins on his arms looked delicious. You knew that Chan was extremely attractive but kissing him made you see stuff from another perspective. "Here we are, Y/N," Chan said after stopping the car in front of your apartment. "Thank you for taking me home," you purred slowly. "Anything for you." "You are so charming," you rolled your eyes. Chan simply shrugged and laughed. "I'm going inside. Bye, Chan." "Bye. Have a good night." You left the car slowly, trying to hide how embarrassed you were. Chan stayed inside of his car and you knew he was watching you because you felt his eyes on you. You unlocked the door and entered inside but you stopped for a moment. You took a deep breath. Why not? "Chan," you called him before he had a chance to leave. "Do you want to come inside?"

A/N: thank your for reading!

[harrywritingsbyme]

Cautious

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I decided to do a lil something with dad to be/husband!Harry and Y/n bc they're cute, sweet, and spicy...this one is also a little bit funny too. there's also a tiny hint of subby wife!Y/n in here too...Enjoy🙃

Harry refused to give you sex. Anytime you asked him for his cock, he always said no, citing that “he didn’t want to harm the baby”. When you first found out that you were pregnant, your hormones and Harry’s sex drive were through the roof. You two were not only having sex everyday, that was normal for you two; you and Harry were going at it like three sometimes four times a day now that you were carrying. You guys’ sex life had managed to skyrocket to an even higher level than it was on before the pregnancy. Harry was amazed at how your body was changing and growing with his child (he has a bit of a breeding kink) and you had a heightened sensitivity in your breasts and between your legs which made you even more needy for him. This constant sex routine so to speak, continued on for a good while too. That is, until the two of you paid a visit to your doctor for your week 20 ultrasound. That was the day everything changed; and by everything, you meant you guys’ sex life. From the moment Harry saw the developed baby and all of her prominent features, Harry went into lockdown mode. He was already extremely helpful and careful with you ever since the beginning of this pregnancy journey and even more so when he found out that you guys were having a baby girl. But now that he could actually see his little girl and not just a little dot on the screen, along with feeling her moving around in your belly, he was on a mission to do everything that was in you and your daughters best interests. Even if that meant limited or no sex.

Now you could understand taking the rough part out of the equation, but sex overall?! That was absolutely not okay for you. Yes he was being the sweetest husband and dad to be in the world, and yes you loved him immensely for that. But you were horny! In fact, him taking all of those measures to keep you and your daughter safe was a big turn on. It’s not like you were demanding for him to pound you into next month. You’d find great enjoyment in that of course, but like Harry, you wouldn’t want to put the baby at risk. All you wanted was for him to be inside of you. You even offered to put some anal action onto play from time to time. Sure he gave you his fingers and mouth, and yes they were magnificent and got the job done, but his cock just hit different. You didn’t even want to use the dildo he got for you that was a nearly exact replica to his cock. But it’s not like you could really use it anyways since you couldn’t see over your mountain of a belly. Which speaking of your mountain of a belly, you were so desperate for his cock that you even bookmarked articles online that listed the different sex positions that could accommodate your bump. 

Now your neediness for Harry’s cock was also translated into tears. Along with your horny hormones being heightened, you also had emotional hormones that were a bit out of wack too. Since you weren’t getting his cock frequently, you started to think that he wasn’t attracted to you any more. But luckily for you, Harry nipped that right in the bud. When you told him how you felt, he spent the entire night pretty much worshiping your body. He gave you everything you’d been craving for in the weeks prior. He used his mouth, fingers, and cock in the most mind-blowing ways and pleasured you for as long as you needed. And in the process of making you feel good, he still made sure that you and the baby were okay. He was able to be the adorable worry wart he is and be pleasured at the same time, and you were able to be pleasured the way you so desperately needed.

 It was absolutely amazing; and about a month ago.

You were now one week away from your 8 month mark and you were still horny. After that amazing night together, Harry went from softly dicking you down to sex lockdown. His fingers and mouth were in heavy and really the only things in rotation, and you were dying to have his cock inside of you. It’s also notable to point out that this was the first time in you guys’ relationship that Harry tried to not have sex with you. Which meant that this entire situation was uncharted territory and you were extremely ready to get back to what you were familiar with. And that would be regular sex. And you were planning on getting it by any means necessary. Even if it meant that you would be the one on your knees. 

See, you’d been trailing behind Harry all day long. After he used his mouth on you first thing this morning, you were in need for more. Even though you were thinking it, you didn’t want to just come out and say “I want sex!”. You didn’t want to ignite one of you guys’ frequent and very trivial tit for tat battles, so you just followed him around and kept as close as possible. You even pulled up a chair and cuddled up next to him as he had a zoom meeting with his team. Even though he was kind of the reason why you had as a serious ache between your thighs, you weren’t going anywhere. You continued to sit there with him for the entire duration of his meeting, keeping yourself busy on your phone until you were able to have his full attention. And once you did, you pounced; you were going to get rid of that ache. As soon as he hung up, you lifted your head up from his shoulder and you carefully slide yourself down onto the floor before moving between your legs.

“Y/n, get up off the floor!” He exclaims concernedly, leaning himself forward to help get you up from the floor. 

“No! I want your cock.” You whine, bringing your hands up to tug at the waistband of his sweats. “This is the only way I can get it since you can’t seem to understand that the baby will be perfectly fine if we have sex.” You continue on, tugging at his waistband a bit harder for him to finally lift his hips so that you can pull them down. Once he does, you’re quick to tug them down to his ankles before pulling them off and tossing them to the side. You push his legs apart and you immediately reach out to wrap your hand around his soft and hardening cock. “Just wanna make us feel good.” You explain softly, keeping your eyes locked with his as you bring your mouth in and down onto his cock. 

“Oh my- Y/n!” Harry groans, feeling your warm mouth glide down onto him. Harry hadn’t seen you on your knees let alone with his cock in your mouth in a really good while. It’s almost as if he forgot about how good it feels to simply rest on your tongue and inside of your warm mouth. After you take a good amount of him inside your mouth, you just hold him there. You suck on his hardening and girthy shaft a bit but you just hold him on your tongue. Simply having the weight of his cock was already working for you. Once you’ve just head him there for a little longer while squeezing at his thighs, you pull you mouth up from his shaft and you immediately replace your mouth with your hand. You begin tugging at his glistening shaft, keeping your eyes on his cock.  As you do this, all you can hear is little moans falling from Harry’s mouth above you. Even though he didn’t want you on your knees at all, he couldn’t deny the fact that your mouth and hands worked wonders.

“So big.” You admire through a whisper, as you push your hand down his shaft one final time before bringing your mouth back onto him. As you do though, you can’t stop yourself from rubbing up against one of his legs. Your clit was tingling and on fire and you needed to quickly rub it out. But once you pushed yourself against him and realized how good it felt, you couldn’t stop. As you pushed your mouth back and forth on his shaft and took him all the way to the back of your throat at times, you managed to simultaneously rub your center against his leg through your leggings. You weren’t able to get much of a rhythm to your movements but you could care less since it felt so good. While you were contently and very happily taking care of yourself and Harry’s cock, Harry was in absolute heaven above you. He had a hand on the back of your head and his own head was tightly tilted back against the top of the chair. Even though he had no problem forgoing his pleasure at times to ensure that you and the baby were okay, it was still nice to have you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. He hadn’t seen that sight in a good while and he was looking forward to a time where he could see it more often. What was even better than you having your mouth on him was the fact that you were practically humping his leg and trying to get yourself off in the process. And not only could he hear your muffled whimpers and moans, Harry could also feel them. As you continued to suck and gag on him, he could feel the vibrations from your moans on his cock.

“Feelin’ good down there baby?” Harry moans through a string of pants, feeling your movements against his leg and cock become more feverish. To reply, you pull your mouth up from his shaft and you rest your head on one of his thighs as you continue to more for hand and yourself against him.

“So good.” You moan dreamily, feeling yourself get closer to a release.

“Look so pretty too.” He begins, bringing his hand that was on the back of your head to your cheek. “Love seein’ my pretty and pregnant little wife on her knees f’me.” He moans as he watches you play with the head of him and lick at his shaft while continuing your movements against his leg. “Even prettier when she’s using me to get herself off. Is that pretty little pussy of yours feeling good sweetheart?” He asks softly through his continued moans, as he begins to feel the damp spot that bled right through your panties and leggings against his leg.

“Feels so good.” You whimper before bringing your mouth to the swollen head of his cock to suckle on him. Your tongue was swirling all around the sensitive edge of his swollen head and you even pushed the tip of your tongue against his slit, causing him to practically melt into his seat.

“Wanna cum with me sweetheart?” He asks shakily through a string of strained moans as he feels his own release speeding towards him.

“Mhm!” You mumble, keeping your mouth on him. To push him right into his release, you use your free hand thats resting on his thigh down between his legs to squeeze his warm and full balls in you hand. 

“Fuck! Cum with me baby!” He shouts, feeling himself falling right into his release. And as he does, so do you. You keep yourself pressed tightly against his leg as you let go. The grip you had on him with your mouth gets tighter as the wave of your release washes over you. You could feel yourself just melting away as you came. Harry could feel your juices coating his skin as he came right in your mouth. It felt so good to just let go with each other and ride out the blissful waves of your releases.

Once you’re all done swallowing every drop of his cum, you pull your mouth off of Harry’s cock and you move back off of his leg before reaching over to grab his pants and help him put them on. But he quickly brings your actions to an immediate halt. 

“You don’t have to help me with that sweetheart, let’s just get you back up and comfortable.” He directs, taking the pants from your hands and sitting them on the desk before helping you get up from the floor below him. Once you’re up, he guides you back to the seat you were once sitting in before swiftly putting his pants back on. 

“Feelin’ better lovie?” He asks sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss to one of your chubby cheeks. Before you could even think about it, you just blurt out how you were actually feeling.

“M’feeling good al all, it’s just that we’re getting real close to the due date and I want to get as much of you and your cock in as possible because once I have the baby I’ll be all stitched up and healing, during and after that we’ll be tired from taking care of a newborn, and I don’t know how I’m gonna feel and stuff afterwards so I really want you as much as possible. So stop being overprotective and let me have your cock!” You bluntly and quickly explain, feeling a little pool of tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry baby!” He coos softly to you, pulling up from your seat and into his lap. “M’sorry for not taking better care of you and being so over protective. Just don’t want anything to happen to you or bubs.” He explains, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“You do an amazing job at taking care of me and I love you so much for that. But we’ll be fine. And if bubs isn’t for it, she’ll just kick me like she always does.” You reassure him with a little smile spread across your face.

“I guess you’re right.” He chuckles, bringing his hand down to your swollen stomach. 

“I know.” You sigh happily, nuzzling your head down into his shoulder. “Now I think that we can agree on cockwarmimg every night, even when we have little naps during the day.” You propose.

“I can do that and anything else you want doll.” Harry readily agrees, more than happy to give you what you wanted.

“Good! Now can we go upstairs and take a nap, I’m a little tired? Being on my knees and getting up wore me out.”

“Anything for you my princess.” He chuckles.

In these next couple of weeks, Harry was going to make sure you got everything you needed…but obviously with caution of course because it was still Harry you were talking about here. 

Masterlist

[potheadkiki]

Alpha Kiri x Omega reader (plus size)

Warnings:18 plus, Omega in heat, somnophilia, dacryphilia, daddy/sub dynamics, soft Dom kirishima, insecure

Kirishima woke up to his mate withering in pain next to him, beads of sweat pricking her forhead as she pushes her ass against him as she let's out an audible whine in pain. What kind of alpha would he be if he didn't help his little omega in heat? With a slight "huff" and a small smile he slides his little sleeping omega onto her back kissing her neck gently as one hand slides up her (his) shirt that falls to just past her thick thighs. As the other supports himself next to her head.

His large hand groping and massaging the soft flesh of her breasts as his thumb gently slides across her already hardened nipple. He hears a cute little gasp come from past her lips but she's still not waking up. His soft lips slide down her neck gently using his teeth to leave red marks and bites as he makes his way to her colour bone. He sucks leaving a red mark as a slight sigh leaves her lips.

"Oh princess you're asleep but you can still feel your daddies touch. My sweet little omega." He says as his lips slide down farther now wrapped around her pebbled nipple as his hand slithers down her plush stomach and dips into her lacy black underwear. A slight groan slips past his lips as he realizes just how wet she really is. Leaving kisses and hickeys as he moves to her neglected breast.

His thick fingers rubbing tight circles on her slightly swollen clit. He feels as she stirs her back arching as she moans out. His lips and teeth trailing down her stomach kissing her stretch marks before reaching his final destination, between her thighs, he can feel the heat radiating off of her as he pulls her underwear down and letting them hang off her left ankle as he lifts her leg and placing it on his shoulder.

"Ki-Kiri?" He looks up making eye contact with his omega as lust, desperation, and slight confusion cloud her eyes. He looks up from between her thighs a devilish smirk on his face as he says

"Oh good baby your finally awake." Her breath getting caught in her throat as her blushed face grows brighter as she slightly nods. God she hurts so bad. She's so hot it feels like her skin is on fire. Soon realizing just how much she's exposed all of her insecurities come rising up as she tries to cover herself up only to be slapped roughly on the inside of her thigh. A surprised yelp leaving her lips as he says

"Nu-uh you only get one more warning from me. Don't hide yourself from me, you understand?" Your vision getting blurry with tears as you let out like hiccups responding

"Y-yes daddy, I-'m sorry *hic* I w-wo-wont do it again. Just please, please daddy touch me. It's hurts so bad." You say lips trembling and tears fall. He gently shushes you wiping away your tears. The next thing is the feeling of his hot tongue pushing up against your clit as he spreads your folds. A slight gasp leaving your lips as Kirishima groans mouthing a 'you taste so good'.

"Oh god. Please more" You say a hiccup slipping through. As your thighs tremble and your back arches. The feeling of his lips wrapping around your swollen clit and sucking as his tongue runs up and down the exposed clit under your sensitive hood. Pulling away he hears you whine as he says

"Please what princess? Use your words for daddy"

"Please daddy. Your fingers. Pl-please I wanna feel them inside." He chuckles whispering 'since you asked so nicely'. Just like that he goes back down between your thighs his hot tongue running up and down using his left hand to spread her folds and lifting her hood so her clit was in full view.

"So pretty" He says his hot breath hitting your clit causing a slight gasp to slip out. Using his right hand he slides his thick middle finger inside groaning at how you instantly start to pulse around him and a slight sigh leaving your mouth. He continues this for a little until sliding his ring finger too.

"Please! Oh please daddy I'm so close don't stop! Please Alpha don't stop" You cry the knot feeling in your stomach so close to snapping. Eyes rolling back at the feeling of your Alpha sucking at your clit and his thick fingers pushing against that spongy spot inside that has the wind being knocked out of your lungs. You can feel him smirking against you as that coil inside finally snaps. Thighs shaking, back arching, and eyes rolling to the back of your head as you squirt all over his face and tongue for the first time. Fear in your eyes at what he might say but the heat coming back as you cry in embarrassment and neediness.

Pulling away he says "What a good Omega. You taste so good. I didn't know you could do that" As he says that he's using his fingers to swish side to side against your clit causing more clear liquid to squirt out of your already sensitive pussy.

"Pl-please daddy fuck me. Please daddy I need it so bad. I-I want your knot" You say whining and begging shamelessly for your alpha's thick cock to spread you open.

"Oh my little Omega of course daddy will fuck you. You've been so good for me. Taking what I give you and asking so nicely. Daddy will give you his knot princess" He says cooing at her moving some hair that stuck to your face from the tears and sweat, tucking it behind your ear he gently kisses you on the for head. You whispering a slight 'thank you my Alpha's

The next thing you know it feels like you're being split open in all the right ways. Your nails digging into his back as he pushes the tip of his cock into you. You whining as your legs wrap around his waist and you raise your hips a little. Only to have one of his hands pulling you back down saying

"Nu-uh princess daddy hasn't fucked you in a while and you're in heat. If you want me to continue you gotta calm down little Omega. I don't want to hurt you. Be a good girl so I gave you my knot" He says. He's trying so hard to not just thrust all of himself into you but he can't to that to his little one. The smell of your pheromones are really getting to him but he can't risk it.

"You-you're right daddy. I'm so-sorry it just feels so so good to have you fill me up" You whisper as you feel him sink deeper into you. Eyes shutting as he bottoms out inside of you. 'Oh god' you say as the tip of his cock pushes against the spongy spot inside of you.

" It's ok princess. Your alpha has you. I'll take care of you." As he says that he pulls out just a little and thrust back inside to see how you react. He smiles as you moan and cry for more. So that what he does. Pulling out a little bit more each time until he's pulling out almost all the way only the tip left as he thrusts back in all the way his balls slapping against you.

"Oh yes alpha please fuck me just like that. I've been a good omega give me your knot" Eyes rolling back hips bucking up against him as he fuck's you so good.

Kirishima raising himself up putting both hands on your thick and plush waist as he thrusts in and each time he does he pulls you against him feeling him deep inside you. Legs on both sides of his waist extended and arching as your toes dig into the sheets.

"Mhm daddy hurts" You say referring to that fact you're starting to cramp in this position. Seeming to understand he flips you over on your hands and knees whispering

"Is this better" not trusting your voice you nod. He pulls out thrusts back in. The feeling of his thick knot beginning to form. Fucking you until the strength in your arms give out and you grab a pillow to hold onto to rubbing your cheek against it, it smells just like him, you think. Moans loudly spilling from both of you.

"Oh my little Omega you feel so good. You like how your alpha fucks your pretty little pussy. Yeah you do princess. Daddies gonna give you his knot." One hand wrapping around your throat pulling you up flush against his chest. The words not being able to leave your tongue, you just nod. Mouth hanging open as sparks of electricity shoot through your body.

"Yeah you like that baby. How I make you dumb on my cock. How my forming knot spreads you open" He whispers nibbling against your ear.

"Daddy- wanna see you" You cry out tears spilling from your eyes.

"Of course princess" He whispers flipping you over onto your back. One of your hands slides down between your body rubbing your clit. Only for him to grab your hand and you let a cry out.

"Nooo! Why daddy? Why?" You say crying. He whispers against your ear saying

"You tell me to do it or not at all. I'm the only one who touches you. You understand" He says dominance in his voice, slightly growling. You simply Nodding you say

"Yes daddy. I do. Please touch me. Touch my pretty little clit. Please" He chuckles nodding one hand wrapped around your throat and the other rubbing tight circles against your clit. Eyes clenching shut. Mouth falling open in a silent scream and he continues to fuck you. You wrapping one hand around the wrist that's restricting blood flow to your brain.

Crying "A-alpha it feels funny"

"Cmon princess squirt all over my cock again. Do it for me. Do it. Be a good girl. Squirt so your alpha can give you this thick knot like you want. " Eyes going slightly crossed as you arch your back nails digging into him, heels of your feet digging into the bed, and toes curling as you squirt all over his cock in a silent scream as a shiver runs through your body. He continues to fuck you through your own high now reaching his own high. The knot forming making it hard to move but still thrusts in. You crying

"Y-yes daddy give me your knot! Please!" You say gasping between each other word. Completely lost in the pleasure. He paints your insides white with his delicious cum as he finally knots you. Crying out and between sobs you say

"Yes Daddy! Thank you so much for daddies knot"

Kissing you gently "of course princess"

Sighing, realizing it's going to be a long night but he'll do anything to see his little Omega squirt on his cock again.

[breakyeol]

— ALL TIED UP

┗ Pairing : Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: shameless smut

Words: 3k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content ; light bondage, blindfolds, body worship, oral (m. receiving), edging, unprotected sex

A/N; plz this was supposed to be a birthday post for soo but I’m so late it’s not even funny. but blindfolded soo is too hot not to write so here you go lovers, enjoy!!

Lace looks good on him, you decided then, admiring the masterpiece laid out beneath you with a satisfied smirk. Black lace and black silk, a perfect combination. The lace, tied securely around your boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. The silk, around his slim wrists.

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Kyungsoo grumbled, flexing his fingers experimentally from within their binds. You grinned to yourself, trailing your own lightly over the warm swells of his chest.

“Because you love me and trust me and know I can make you feel… so good.” Those final words were all but purred against the pink tinted shell of his ear, a sense of smug pride settling over you when he shivered in response, lips parting to let out a shaky breath.

You knew what he was experiencing. You knew how every sensation felt amplified. Without his sight, he was forced to feel, to hone in on each one of his other senses. He took notice of things he probably wouldn’t have otherwise. Unable to see what you were doing, he was on edge, left in thick anticipation of your every move. Every touch was a surprise. He had relinquished himself to you, body and mind, left himself completely at your mercy.

His head kicked back into the pillows as your mouth drifted to his throat, bathing him with slow, purposeful kisses. Each one fanned the flames of his lust, growing larger and greedier with every touch. From your peripheral vision, you caught the downward movement of his bound hands from where you had specifically told him to keep them above his head. You reached up, easily pinning them back against the mattress.

“You do trust me, don’t you, Soo?” The low, sultry thrum of your voice caressed his feverish skin, and he felt the weight of them in his blood.

“Yes.” He whispered, grunting softly when you sunk your teeth into his collarbone.

You smiled, laving your tongue soothingly over the afflicted area. “Good.” And then your mouth was on his. He groaned hotly into your kiss, and you giggled as his eager tongue licked at the seam of your lip. Was he already getting worked up? You’d barely even started. It was surprisingly fun seeing the usually so controlled Doh Kyungsoo unraveling beneath you just because of a little lacy blindfold.

It hadn’t taken as much convincing to get him into this position as you first thought it would.

Kyungsoo was the kind of man that took pleasure in taking things slow and dragging things out with deep kisses and gentle caresses. He liked to take his sweet time when he had his way with your body, nipping and teasing until you were squirming and begging and just barely hanging onto your ever dwindling sanity. And shit if those weren’t some of the best orgasms you ever had— you just wanted to return the favor.

“You know, you have the most amazing lips.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m very serious. I can’t even look at you without wanting to kiss you.” You pressed your thumb into the full flesh, drawing it gently down and releasing in order to watch it bounce temptingly back into place.

“That’s just because you have no self control.” He argued, nipping at the pad of your thumb.

You cocked your head, humming thoughtfully. “Valid point.”

His lips parted with the intention of teasing, but any playful comment was abruptly cut off when you redirected your attention back to his sensitive throat, attacking the sweet spot just below the corner of his jaw that you knew made him weak. “Y/n—”

“Shh, just relax, baby… let me take care of you.”

He exhaled a shaky breath from his nose, snagging his lower lip tightly between his teeth and nodded, allowing his body to melt into the mattress.

“Good boy.”

“Suck my dick.” He hissed, only to sigh blissfully as you began kissing hotly down the length of his neck, staining his honeyed skin in lovely shades of pink and red.

“I was planning on it.”

Kyungsoo laughed then, a deep bubbly rumbling that you felt vibrate against your lips. Truly, you couldn’t stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his adam’s apples as it bobbed in front of you all too temptingly. He growled softly in retaliation, but you could feel the solid heat of him pressing up gently between your hips. The subtle friction made the muscles of your thighs tremble in need, fierce desire licking at your veins.

The sight of him beneath you, bound and vulnerable and eager (despite trying -and failing- to hide it), glistening in sweat and practically shaking in anticipation, was affecting you way more than you thought it would. Something about having him like this set your blood on fire in an entirely different way than you were used to. Having such control over him, over his pleasure and desire, was giving you a total power rush. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a complex. Then your handsome boyfriend would have to put you back in your place. Not that you’d mind…

But those were thoughts for another night.

Sinking your fingers into his tight waist, you slowly descended his body; nipping, kissing and licking over every curve, every edge, every soft spot. “You’re so beautiful.” You breathed against his warm stomach, gaze flashing up to catch even the faintest of nuances in his expression. His brows curled, jaw opening around a silent gasp as your lips feathered over his hip bones, greedy touch traveling over the defined muscles of his thighs.

“Fuck, y/n—” the strained groan had you clenching around empty air, lust coiling in your chest.

“You’re so hard, Soo.” You moaned, sitting back on your heels as you admired his length. Thick and red and weeping, a heavy pool of precum collecting on the gentle slope of his belly. Lowering your head, you dragged your tongue through it, humming at the salty taste of him. His stomach flinched and tightened, his chest swelling as he swallowed lungfuls of hot air.

“Stop teasing and touch me.” It was probably supposed to sound demanding, but it came out as nothing of the sort. The way the words trembled and quivered from his gaping lips, thick and heavy in his throat, sounded nothing short of imploring. And damn you if you weren’t about to give him everything he wanted and more.

Kyungsoo gasped out a low curse at the first calculated flick of your tongue over his swollen head, veined hands curling into tight fights around the sheets above his head. Heat pooled in your stomach, even the subtle reaction enough to make you greedy for more. Humming, you licked a wet strip from base to tip, a violent tremble wracking his body in response. You could feel his self control already beginning to wane, a soft whimper breaking free from behind clenched teeth as you took him fully into your mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

His voice sounded so lovely, smooth and lustrous like the black silk wrapped around his wrists, breathless and light where it flickered through the air around your head. You teased the skin of his hips, digging your nails in each time they bucked. His spine curved, a deep groan pulsing from his chest as you hollowed your cheeks, skillfully tracing the thick vein lining the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue.

“Careful, baby. Careful.” He seethed, head snapping back as his jaw clenched. The warning in his voice clear, the tension in his thighs telling you all you needed to know about just how near he was to the edge. You hummed in acknowledgment, but the vibrations it sent pulsing through his cock threw his entire body into a fit of violent trembles, the resistance he put up against his oncoming orgasm wrenching a broken sob from his swollen lips. “Y/n!”

You pulled off of him with a soft chuckle, resorting to pressing soothing kisses to the warm insides of shaking his thighs.

“Sorry, love.” You crooned, kissing up his body until you were level with his face.

For a moment, you were tempted to pull off the blindfold, just to see the look in those beautiful brown eyes. But some level of self restraint was necessary if you were planning to follow through. So you swallowed the urge, satiating the fire in your belly with the taste of his mouth instead.

“Fucking hell.” He growled roughly, kissing you back with a ferocity that you supposed was intended to take his mind off the desperate throbbing of his cock.

Kyungsoo was breathing hard through his nose, quick shallow breaths that rushed out against the skin of your upper lip. You tried to pull away, worried he might pass out from oxygen from deprivation if you denied him of air any longer, but he chased your mouth, sinking his teeth punishingly into tender flesh your lower lip once he caught up. It was the only thing he could think to do to keep you close.

You rolled your hips back against the hardness of his cock in retaliation, though unsure if it was meant to discipline or reward. Probably both. Regardless, he moaned, subsequently releasing you from the harsh bite of his teeth.

“Do that again. Fuck, I need to feel you. I need to feel you baby, please.” He gritted out, words rushed and jumbled as he rutted up against you. You moaned at the unexpected friction, bracing your hands on his silk-bound wrists to keep from doubling over. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth at the sound. “That feel good?”

“Mhm.” You hummed breathlessly, head tilting back as you rolled yourself over him again, reveling in the resulting rush of warmth. You could see the fluttering of his eyelids behind the lace, searching desperately through all encompassing the darkness for something, for anything— for you.

Then his fingers grazed your wrist and the corner of his mouth twitched triumphantly. “Hold my hand.”

The demand was so unexpected that you couldn’t help the sharp giggle of astonishment that spewed dumbly from your lips. “You want me… to hold your hand?” Repeating the words did nothing to hinder the sudden onslaught of laughter.

Kyungsoo smiled blindly up in your general direction, that dopey heart shaped grin that never failed to make your heart flutter stupidly in your chest. The one that made it feel like time itself was slowing down so that you could treasure it for just a few moments longer. “I want you to hold my hand… and fuck me like you love me.”

Another giggle, your nose wrinkling from the sheer absurdity of the request. “But I do love you.”

He pivoted his chin, cocking a sassy brow. “Then it shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Point made.” You acknowledged, smoothly intertwining your fingers with his and simultaneously sinking down on his length. He cried out, the suddenness of your walls around him stealing all of the oxygen from his lungs. So wet and tight and hot, squeezing in all the right places. He was goddamn dizzy.

A sound of bliss escaped your gaping lips, your eyes fluttering shut as your cunt stretched deliciously to accommodate his familiar girth. You didn’t move at first, remaining still as you adjusted to the intrusion, relishing in the mere sensation of being full. But then you heard a small plea, Kyungsoo’s grip around your hands tightening drastically, and you go pliant under the weight of his need.

You know how he likes it. Deep and slow, dragging out and savoring each precious moment until it feels like every inch of your souls has been set to flames. He likes it when every movement has intention, purpose, from the stroke of his hips to the flutter of his eyes. He likes the toe-curling passionate kind of sex that hits you so deep in your chest that you couldn’t fathom any other kind. The kind that makes your love for him sore like a burning phoenix through the night sky.

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to do it as well as he did, if you’d be able to make his toes curl and his soul blaze, but you’d give it your best shot— and that was more than enough for him.

You move over him like liquid, with slow, languid motions that require a surprising amount of effort, drowning him in the dark depths of your desire with every deliberate thrust. Beneath you, Kyungsoo’s back bowed deeply off the mattress, his sweat soaked chest pressing flush against yours. Like that, you could feel the rapid thundering of his heart, each beat echoing through your bones.

Full lips caressed the shape of your name, stroking each syllable like it was his saving grace, his holy salvation. You felt yourself leaning into the sound, seeking out his voice between your own breathless moans.

Heady desperation gnawed at your self restraint, the deep burn gradually consuming the muscles in your thighs and core forcing a sloppiness into the previously controlled movement of your hips. But Kyungsoo made no complaint, whispering only praises against the raw flesh of your lips. Each sultry word fed the raging fire in your belly, pouring gasoline onto the flames created by the pressure of his cock gripped within your walls.

Dull nails bit into your knuckles and Kyungsoo let out a gasp of your name. “I’m close.” He warned between jagged inhales, but you could only cry out as his hips snapped up violently, burying the whole of his length inside your wet cunt.

“Soo— oh god—!” you went still above him, panting and gasping and shaking as he began fucking himself into you from underneath. Though the space was limited, he still managed to plunge into you with a force that fractured your sanity. The strong grip he had on your trembling hands was the only thing keeping you from collapsing on top of him. Each vicious thrust succeeded in hitting that vulnerable bundle of nerves, stars flickering behind your closed eyelids.

“You feel perfect. I bet you look gorgeous.” His voice was a hoarse snarl, searing against your throat and lashing across your tongue. You keened into the destructive sound of it, loving the way it ruined you. “Wanna see you, baby. Wanna see you when you come all over my cock. Let me see you, gorgeous, please. Please.”

You didn’t bother trying to respond, knowing any words would only fracture like glass on your lips. Instead, with quivering fingers, you clumsily tugged the lace off from over his eyes, casting it uncaringly onto a nearby pillow. Pools of pure blackness greet you; blown, unfocused pupils immediately locking on yours. There was nothing but pure, blazing, unbridled lust, so deep and intoxicating that it made your head spin.

The corner of his mouth curled dangerously. “Hands, too?”

Nodding dumbly, you fumbled with the silk tie binding his wrists. The moment it went slack, his hands were on you, greedy and rough and everywhere; in your hair, on your throat, groping your chest, gripping your ass. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, suffocating on the fire he was breathing into your lungs.

In a split second, you were sprawled on your back, moaning and gasping as Kyungsoo pistoled his hips into yours.

“So. Fucking. Perfect.”

You wrapped your legs tightly around him, heels pressing into the ample swells of his ass as you gripped onto him for dear life. “I’m gonna come— Soo, I’m gonna come—” you were babbling like a fool, speaking clumsily into the skin on his shoulder. He groaned throatily at the pressure of your teeth on his collarbone, thrusts speeding up to a punishing pace. Deep and hard and passionate, you felt each one resonating through the very core of your being.

A hand slid between your sweat soaked bodies, skilled fingers making quick work of locating your clit. A violent tremor seized your body, a strangled whimper bursting from your chest. Hot pleasure pulsed through you, unrelenting and overwhelming. You squirmed and begged, writhing in bliss beneath his ministrations. Then all at once you cried out, spine arching, muscles tensing as your high crashed over you.

“That’s it. Fuck, good girl. That’s it.”

The world around you swam, blurry and out of focus as the force of your orgasms ripped through you like a wildfire. You felt Kyungsoo faltering above you, hiccuping moans shuddering past his swollen lips. Then he tensed, choked on a gasp, and you felt the warmth of his release pouring into you. Your muscles went slack, head falling back into the pillows as you surrendered yourself to the post-orgasmic bliss that draped itself over you.

A shiver rippled down your spine as he gently pulled out, before collapsing onto your chest. You giggled breathlessly as he nuzzled his face between your breasts, his damp hair tickling your throat.

“That was amazing.” He hummed contently against your feverish skin.

“I told you you’d like it.” You remarked with a smug grin, yelping in shock when he nipped at one of your nipples in retaliation for lack of a better response. You shoved at his shoulders playfully and he rolled off of you with a low grunt, providing you with the perfect opportunity to escape into your connected bathroom for a hot shower. But the second you were on your feet, a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You spun with a gasp, falling gracelessly back onto the mattress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kyungsoo all but growled, crawling on top of you, an animalistic glint in his hooded eyes.

“To wash up?” You said slowly, though it came out as more of a question.

He chuckled, a low, devilish sound that made your thighs subconsciously squeeze. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”

Your brows raised, and you were shocked at the spark of excitement that rushed directly to your spent core. “We’re not?”

He dragged the tip of his tongue salaciously over the full pink flesh of his lower lip and reached over to pick up the lace blindfold, dangling it tauntingly in front of your face.

“It’s my turn.”

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS III | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Read PART 2.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.9k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Closure - Taylor Swift

Demolition Lovers - My Chemical Romance

Bang the Doldrums - Fall Out Boy

It’s a cliché.

Your life, certainly.

And the saying, as it goes, that the show must go on.

You’re blindsided. You’re a little nauseated, and irritated. You’re looking at Matthew, you’re thinking no one’s told him what’s going on, either.

But the two of you make eye contact, for just a few seconds, then his eyes rake down your body, pausing to take you in. Your dress, black against your skin, tight against your body. You hold his gaze as it returns to your face — your lips, your cheekbones, your eyes.

And a mutual understanding is formed. Silently, through nothing but an exchange of looks.

“After you,” Matthew smiles, politely, holding his arm out in front of his torso.

“Wow,” you smile, your voice kind, formal, as you pass him by. “How professional of you.”

He can’t help but chuckle to himself. He looks down, shakes his head, and he puts his hands in his pockets. You can feel his eyes running over your skin like a laser, tracing the shape of your spine, and you nearly tip over in your heels.

Ramona goes to follow you, and Matthew’s aligns beside her, working up the urge to speak.

“[y/n] didn’t . . .” he whispers, pausing to lick his lips, point up ahead at you you trailing down the hall. “She didn’t agree to this, did she?” he asks Ramona.

“Look,” Ramona stops, turns to Matthew, holds her palm up to silence him. It works. He stops, his words, his footsteps, come to halt. “I don’t know the story, but . . . I don’t think I’m supposed to talk to you. So . . . anything you want to . . . ask about or say to [y/n], then — then, you can say it to her yourself.”

And she quickly scurries away to catch up with you. She pauses, turns around, tells him, “I love Criminal Minds, by the way.” And she continues on her way.

Matthew laughs.

You’re already standing, set and center, ready to walk on stage on command. You look out at the crowd, each individual face. The bright lights. And you hate to be dramatic, but you’d give anything to not be here right now. Seriously, anything.

“Hey,” Ramona murmurs, walking up behind you. “You alright?”

“It’s too late for me to get out of this, isn’t it?” You ask.

“. . . a little bit,” she nods.

Matthew joins, taking his place behind the curtain, waiting to go on stage. You look over at him, let out a deep sigh.

“Okay,” you shrug, look forward. “Let’s do this, then.”

There’s an art to every interview. To being a polite, and attentive, and humble guest. For 30 minutes, for an hour, forever. It seems to be muscle memory for both you and Matthew. You flash your smiles, and they’re wide, they’re bright, they’re pretty, and completely, utterly inauthentic.

You put on a show for the crowd. You’re not an actress, but anyone who thinks you’re enjoying yourself has been fooled. And that’s enough for you.

You laugh along as questions bounce back and forth, the interviewer leaned over his desk as he speaks to the both you. There’s a gravitational pull that fights and fights to make you look at Matthew. It catches you once, and the two of you awkwardly avoid eye contact by averting your heads from one another.

Your eyes flicker over to the timer offstage, counting down the minutes until the interview was officially off air. It wasn’t until twenty minutes were left on the clock, that the questions became, a bit . . . pushy, to say the least.

“So, you and Matthew went to college together, is that right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, only looking to Matthew for a second of acknowledgement, before returning your glimmering smile to the host. “Yes, we did.”

“Were you two friends?” he asks. “Now, I don’t know why, but I see you both being in very different cliques,” he laughs, the audience joining.

You giggle, nodding, “Um, yeah, yes, I would say we were friends.”

“And what would you say, Matthew?”

“Eh, I’d say we were acquaintances,” he jokes, giving a shrug in response.

Everyone but you finds it funny. You cross your legs, passive aggressively, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Oh, so she was in with the cool crowd, is that what it was?”

“Hm . . .” Matthew hums. “Define cool?”

Your laugh is dry, quiet, drowned out by the laughter of the crowd. Your eyes are glued to your shoes, your feet swaying back and forth on your heel.

“But in all honesty . . .” Matthew adds. He leans over, puts his arm around you. It was the one thing to make you lose all sense of clairty, lose your solid ground. You shuffled in your seat, awkwardly, straining your face just to keep your smile in place. “If I could describe knowing [y/n] in college, in one, single word, it’d probably be . . .” he turns his head to you, slowly, “. . . exhausting.”

His voice comes out in a joking manner, and it prompts another uproar of laughter, which drowns in your ears as you gaze at Matthew. Your face is laced with a numb, distant kind of hurt.

Fifteen more minutes on the clock.

And you spend every one of them with a fire burning in your belly. Burning, and burning, until it filled your entire body.

Ramona runs up to you the second you step off stage, happy, beaming, “That went well! You were composed, funny, you handled his nosey ass questions with, like, no visible reaction.”

Continuing down the hallway, you focus on the steps ahead of you, counting down to the moment you return to the sanctuary of your dressing room.

“And the way you subtly promoted the show without being too pretentious, I mean, very well done. I — oh —“

She’s cut off by the door slamming in her face, as you disappear into the private room, leaving yourself to find peace. Stability.

“. . . I’m still proud of you!” Ramona shouts through the barrier. You sigh, close your eyes, rest your back against the cold wood. “I’m going to call you a car, I’ll be back!”

It’s not until you hear her retreating footsteps, that you take a seat at the vanity set to the side of the room. You put your head in your hands, unable to look at yourself in the mirror. Unable to do anything but sit, and feel.

Ramona weighs on your mind, and you can’t seem to shake the guilt of sending her away, so cold, so unfair. You huff, and rise to your feet. They’re swollen, and achey, from the pair of heels encapsulating them, but you push through. You march up to the door, and as soon as you swing it open, you walk down the hallway.

“Ro?” you call. “Ramona!”

And as if an invisible force knocked you back, jilted you in your steps, you stop. You turn your body, looking to the door at your left. It’s a magnetic attraction. You know he’s in there. Hell, you know he could walk out at any moment. But you stay, stuck in front of the barrier like a deer in headlights.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head. “No . . . “

You walk away. You make the decision to walk away. But you only manage to make it a few feet . . . before you’re turning back around.

Your knuckles rasp on the wooden door, and you cross your arms as you await an answer. When Matthew comes to the door, the first thing you notice is that his tie has been removed, the top buttons of his shirt undone. Your breath catches in your throat, but only for a moment.

He exhales, “Haven’t we used all of our time for today?” he quips, tilting his head as he looks at you.

“I just want you to know that this is not . . . fair,” you tell him. “I have been polite and understanding, and you have been . . . a dick.”

He stands up straight, physically taken aback by your words, and the venom with which you speak them. “Have I?”

“Yes. You are being petty, and mean, and dragging this out for no, damn, reason, Matthew Gubler.”

“I didn’t know there was anything to drag out,” he shrugs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he goes to close the door, right in your face. But you catch it with your elbow, force your way in.

You slam the door behind you, standing firm on your feet, firm in your anger. “No, no. You don’t get to treat me like this. Whatever is bothering you, whatever issue you have with me, that doesn’t give you the right to slam the door in my face, and disregard the fact that you have been an utter asshole!”

“Oh,” he backs away, snidely clicking his tongue at you. “We’re getting into a screaming match now?”

“What the fuck is your deal, Matthew?” you seeth. “You’re mad, you’re hurt, I get it —“

“I’m not mad, I’m not hurt. I’m . . . annoyed, more than anything.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms. “The way I see it, there’s two options, here. Either, you’re still mad, and you want to hurt me. Or, you want to fuck me so badly, you’re just making yourself look stupid!”

A lot has changed. Too many things to count on one hand.

But the way Matthew’s eyes darken . . .

The way the wire snaps.

It hasn’t changed, at all. His irises are still as dark and intense, as they always were when they were focused on you. Dreamy, and powerful. Almost, hypnotic.

It’s hard to tell exactly who kisses who, first.

So, we’ll call it a mutual decision.

Your bodies collide, fall in sync with one another almost automatically, as you hold his face in your hands. His skin feels different, covered by a layer of scruff. But his mouth tastes the same.

Addicting.

You drop your jaw, let his tongue slide between your lips. He moans into the kiss, and his hands grip onto your waist, pulling you closer. Closer. Until you can feel his heartbeat against your chest. You offer no resistance as he sweeps you off your feet, instead wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back slams into the wall, and you gasp, tangle your hands in Matthew’s hair. It curls around your fingers, and he hums at the sensation of your fingertips grazing his scalp. His hands make their way underneath the hem of your dress, maneuvering up your thighs, onto your ass.

He pauses to put his forehead against yours, watch the drool drip down your lips. “You want it as badly as I do . . .” he whispers, heaving as his breath reels from the kiss.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t you?”

“You’re ruining it, jackass,” you spit.

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” he grins into another kiss, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. His hand wraps around the elastic band of your panties, tightly, and he uses minimal strength to rip the fabric apart. It pops against your leg, and you squeak out loud, causing Matthew to chuckle against your lips.

Your dress rides up your thighs, bunching up around your waist, while your hands work quickly to undo Matthew’s belt. His stomach is flushed, and warm under the thin material of his shirt.

He grunts into his mouth as you free him from his boxers, stroke him in your palm with a familiar and steady rhythm. He could’ve fallen to his knees right then, right there. But he didn’t. Because, God, he’s going to fuck you if it was the last thing he ever does. He’s going to do it well, and he’s going to make it quick.

Pinning you to the wall, he spits on her fingers, covering them in his saliva and reaching down to touch you between your legs. You whimper into his mouth, pleading, begging for it.

Matthew pulls away from the kiss only to watch your face, to see your eyes roll back as he pushes into you. Again. For the first time in so long. Your entire body, just, relaxes, and you melt into each other, weak already.

His hips push forward, forcefully, until he’s buried inside of you, and you can’t help but let out a loud whine. He puts a hand over your mouth, his forehead against yours, and begins to move your bodies in this slow, steady rhythm. Your back is moving up and down against the wall, and your moans are aligning with every one that comes from Matthew’s mouth.

The two of you can’t keep your eyes off each other, as though neither of you can believe this is happening. That you’re here. With each other. Bonded. Chained. Like there was no amount of fate, or time, or distance that could keep you apart.

Matthew buries his face in your neck, trying to contain his high pitched groans. He absentmindedly starts to increase his pace, encouraged by the way your nails rake down his back. You rest your head back against the wall, you eyes screwed shut and your mouth wide open. His fingers slide between your lips, and muffle the loud squeaks that won’t seem to stop.

And you’re not sure if it’s him, the way he’s only gotten better, and manages to hit a golden spot inside of you with every thrust. Or, if it’s the fact that you haven’t gotten laid in a while. But when Matthew takes his hand away from his mouth, starts to rub your clit, you yelp.

“Shhh,” he cooes, but follows his soft order with a roll of his hips.

Your body is completely rested, dependent, on his. He cradles you in his arms as his hips contain to move, his fingers work tirelessly on your clit, and he moans in your ear.

You don’t have to tell him. He already knows. He remembers. How your thighs tighten around his waist when you’re close. How you mumble incoherently, and try to catch your breath but it only comes out at jumbled gasps. He feels you tighten around his cock, your nails digging into his back and your fingers pulling at his hair.

He supports you as your body crumbles from the pressure, releases it all in one big, intense rush of energy that leaves your body tense and on edge. You hold him close as you tremble, muffle your whimpers against his shoulder. Sliding out of you, he uses your inner thighs to bring himself there with you. You have to lay against the wall, as you watch him in a daze. Your vision blurry, blurry, until you focused on him.

Sweat beads on his forehead, soaking the hair on his face, and the collar of his shirt. He bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. And when he comes, his jaw drops, but no noise comes out. He’s silent, and beautiful, and his face scrunches up in the exact same way it always did. He makes a mess on your thighs, your stomach, and stares you in the eye while he does it.

Matthew lowers you to the ground, holding your hips as you plant your feet on the floor. You stare at each other for a moment, out of breath, and strangely calm, both of you fixing your clothes.

You advert your eyes, distracting yourself by correcting the wrinkles in your dress. You reach over, grab some tissues to wipe yourself off with. Silence fills the room, and it’s deafening.

Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s different. The past is still the past, you’re still you, Matthew’s still him. And the remnants of who you two used to be still hang in the air, haunting. Dangerous.

You push your hair out of your face, clear your throat as you toss the tissues into the trash, look Matthew in the face, “We done here?”

You move around him, heading to the door without looking back.

“[y/n],” he calls. You turn around, your hand on the door knob. Matthew steps towards you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You don’t have to treat me like, some situation that needs to be handled . . .” he purses his lips, “I’ll be alright.”

You sigh at him, at a loss for words. And you leave.

Ramona nearly collides into you as she rushes down the hall, exclaiming as she stops in her tracks. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” She catches a glimpse of Matthew’s door, her jaw dropping as she connects the dots. “I —“ she stutters. “Did you —?”

“Let’s go,” you command.

“But, I —“

“Let’s go.”

So you went. It felt cowardly, and . . . wrong. Wrong, simply because of Matthew. His broken voice. The memory of his eyes, and the sadness that glossed over them as you left.

After situating yourself in the backseat, you lock the car door. Out of some irrational fear . . . that, if given the chance, you’ll hop out. Rush back to Matthew, take him in your arms, and never let him go. Never is a long time, but not enough to make up for the years that have gone by.

You sigh to yourself, rub your tired eyes as the car begins to move, begins on its journey to take you home. “Actually . . .” you say to the driver., leaning forward. “Can you take me somewhere else, instead?”

You knock, forcefully, on the door in front of you, after trekking up the stairs to the luxury apartment. Out of breath, you huff, and add another tireless knock upon the door.

“It’s open!”

You furrow your eyebrows, walk in to see Claire and Roni sitting on the couch. They give you welcoming smiles, popping snacks into their mouth.

“Are you trying to wake the kid, dude?” Claire asks you, causing Roni to chuckle under her breath.

“Sorry, I . . .” you apologize. “I thought you guys were asleep.”

“We’re up,”Claire shrugs. “Want a snack? We’ve got those tropical gummies that you really like.”

You stare for a moment, inhale, exhale, look to Claire, “You knew I was coming . . .”

“Oh, yeah,” she nods. “We saw the interview. You were expected.”

“Ugh,” you groan, putting your face in your hands, out of nothing but pure exhaustion.

Claire sighs, sadly, knowing you so well, that it’s evident to her just how much your struggling. How, once again, your body is being weighed down by a heavy heart.

“You said you’re alright here, babe?” Roni whispers to her, and Claire responds with a gentle nod.

“We’re fine, mama,” she tells her, following her words with a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay,” and with that, Roni leaves the two best friends to themselves, occupying herself by going to check on Dorthy.

Claire pats the newly available spot beside her, and you shuffle your feet over the couch, plopping down with a hum of relief.

“Here,” Claire says, picking up a pack of gummies, handing them to you, “Have a snack.”

You take the packet, and tear it open, not hesitating to pop the candy in your mouth. You chew anxiously, obnoxiously.

Claire is patient. Of all things, Claire is kind. And she waits for you to process. Your feelings, your thoughts, your words, and when you finally, finally open your mouth to speak, she just smiles. It’s as though everything comes out in one breathe. A film made in one take. You use all your energy to rant and mumble and whine tonight’s events.

Even the dirty details. They’re important to the story.

“And I just left . . .” you trail off. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Claire looks at you for a long time. She goes to speak. She stops herself. She puts her finger to her lips, contemplating. Goes to speak again. Stops herself, again.

You furrow your eyebrows at her, “Is this like, charades or something?” you ask.

“No . . . I . . .” she stutters. “I . . . you fucked him?”

“It was, more mutual,” you shrug.

“So, now what?”

“I, I don’t know? I have no clue.”

“But you want to be with Matthew?”

“No . . . I . . . I don’t know.”

“Well, does he want to be with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“[y/n] . . .” she sighs. “Don’t you think . . . maybe, you and Matthew are a little too . . . big . . . for this?”

You tilt your head, “Big?”

“Old!” Claire shouts. “Old! You’re old! You’re too old for this!”

“Wha —“ you stutter. “I —“

“Look,” she pauses, turns her body to you, and takes your hands in her grasp. “I was here before Matthew, I was here after Matthew. So . . . I’m, I’m telling you, as the person who watched it happen once . . . don’t drag yourself through hell again. If Matthew’s the one, if he’s who you’ve been waiting for, if it’s always been him, then go. Run to him. He’s here.”

And for no reason at all, you could’ve cried. Tears brim your eyes, and you have to blink them away. “Um . . .” you reply. “Can I crash here tonight.”

Claire sighs, rests her chin on her hand. “Of course.”

“Cool . . . can I borrow some pajamas?”

“Yes.”

You nod, rise from the couch, prepared to walk yourself to the guest room. You turn, nervously, back to Claire and she looks up at you. “Do you, um, do you have any underwear I can borrow, too?”

She purses her lips at you.

“Okay, yeah, nevermind, I’ll go commando.”

So you slept without any underwear. And you forced yourself not to dream of him. Not to allow yourself to be haunted by memories, by pain.

But when you closed your eyes, he was all you could see. The way he looked, and talked, and smelled fifteen years ago. The way you slept beside him for the very last time, and had convinced yourself it would not be the last time.

It would not be the last time.

He made you laugh so hard in your dream that you woke up, and your heart broke as you awake in a dark and empty room. You reach over, turn on the bedside lamp, and rub your tired eyes. You only managed to sleep until three in the morning. And Matthew, and Claire’s words, were the first thing on your mind.

He wasn’t hard to find.

You have your strings. And you, sneakily, tiredly, in a haze of exhaustion, pull all of them. It’s insane, and as you drag yourself out of bed, you ask yourself what you’re doing. Why you’re doing it. What is the point?

But it’s him. And he’s here. And he won’t be for much longer, and he’s only ten minutes away.

The car is able to pick you up and get you to the hotel in under twenty minutes. You’re dressed in a pair of sweats and a cozy sweatshirt, well aware of how crazy you look, well aware of how crazy you’re behaving. And unable to stop yourself.

You march into the building, your feet moving on autopilot to guide you to the elevator, up to the ninth floor. You catch your breath as you move up each level, and lose it again the moment the doors open. You push yourself forward, follow the arrows to his room.

You round the corner, and he calls out, “Hey!”

You smile. Matthew happy to see you.

No.

Not you.

You step back, stopped in your tracks as the girl giggles in his face, holds onto his waist.

“Surprise!” she exclaims, the two of them standing outside his hotel door.

“What are you doing here? I was going to pick you up,” he says.

“Call me impatient, but I couldn’t wait to see you,” she places a soft kiss to his lips, smiles at Matthew. He smiles back.

But that smiles quickly fades when he turns his head, sees you standing there. Matthew is not happy to see you.

“[y/n] . . .”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

@calm-and-doctor

@spencerreid-mgg

@reidsconverse

@reidemandweep

[iwantutobehapppier]

Right Now

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve needs you right now. Warnings: 18+ Only, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk, cursing, pwp Word Count: 1,561 A/N: Happy 5th night of Chanukah! :) This one is kind of quick and straight to the point haha. We’re at the home stretch now. Hope you guys have been enjoying! This has not be beta’d all mistakes are on me haha.

“I-I,” you stutter, your tongue heavy and mind swirling as he invades your spaice of the small janitorial room he shoved you into. “I’m not sure we-”

“That’s alright,” Steve’s words hot in your ear, his body covering yours, practically holding you up against the wall. Holding your wrists with one hand above your head, the other cupping a breast, thumb rubbing your newly pebbled nipple. 

“Cause I”m sure we should,” He shoves his knee between your legs, your dress hiking up with his movement. 

“They’re all out there,” Steve chuckles before trailing kisses down your neck to bite on the junction of your shoulder. You go to cry out but bite your lip instead to muffle the noise.

“I know” his tongue rolling over the teeth indentions he left. “But baby girl don’t you want to be good for me?” 

You keen nodding your head. “Yes daddy,” He hides the sinister smile on his lips burying his face into your neck inhaling deep. He rocks his thigh against your core, satisfied at the soft squish noise it makes pushing your underwear against your swollen folds.

“Oh you are so good aren’t you?” A soft hm is all you can answer, the rough slack fabric against your thighs, and pushing against Steve’s favorite spot distraction enough.

Steve leans back and the hand on your breast leaves to slap your mound, the sound wet echoing in the small confines. “What was that?”

“Yes, daddy!” You cry out your mind clouding over forgetting why you were protesting, to begin with.

“You walk around in this short dress,” he grunts releasing your wrists but you keep your hands up knowing the rules. Steve hikes the offending dress up showing your now translucent underwear from your arousal. “Did you think daddy wouldn’t do anything about it?” 

Steve slams his mouth against yours to cover your cry when he rips your underwear clean from your body. He chuckles into your mouth, gently patting your folds, your swollen clit directly hit on his final pat making your legs shake. 

“I bet you hoped I would do something didn’t you?” His question rhetorical. “Get me ready for your tight pussy,” he commands.

Your hands fall down unbuckling and pulling the belt free with shaky hands. Steve watches your face, your eyes hooded, tongue slipping out to wet your lips when you unzip his pants and feel the heat of his cock on your hands. 

“You’ve got everyone fooled,” he purs when you grasp him through his boxers. “Thinking you’re this sweet, smart, and innocent woman when really,” you are barely hearing him, focused on one thing.

He’s heavy in your hands when you pull him from the slit in his boxers. Your other hand dips into his slacks, fondling his balls. He groans at your attention. They’re weight signifying how much Steve has been holding back lately with you. “Your just daddy’s cock hungry slut.” he finally finishes, voice raspy with carnal desire. 

You curl your fingers around the base of his pulsing shaft. Fingers nowhere near touching. You loved his size, you loved when he shoved himself fully into you. The burn and ache a reminder you’re his. Forever.

Pumping your hand up and down you bed your head down with your mouth open, letting drool slip out your mouth to fall on his red and veiny cock. Using the lubricant you pump your hand faster, Steve groans then you swipe the tip of his cock taking the pooling precum with you to add to the lubricant mixture. Your eyes are entranced by the way he pulses in your hands in pace with his heartbeat. 

You go to fall to your knees but Steve stops you and instead grabs your legs pulling them up and around him your back slouching against the wall. A small grunt pushed out your lungs. 

“Put me in,” you nod your head at the command a soft “Yes daddy,” falls from your lips as you are leading his cock to your entrance, swirling the tip around your hole. 

“Don’t tease,” he tuts at your actions. You give a coy smile looking up and then down to slot the mushroom tip with your hole, pushing your hips forward feeling the way it stretches you before popping inside.

Both of you groan in unison. The sensation makes you needy, needing to have all of him in you. You reach forward gripping his back end trying to push him further, your hips bucking up.

The desperation in your need to have him drive Steve wild. Without another word, he grips your hips fingers pressing in almost painful but any thought of that is stricken from you when he pushes completely into you.

One swift movement, his chest flush to yours, pushing your back into the wall before pulling his hips back and slamming back into you. Your mouth opens but no noises come out as your thighs quake, knees locking around him.

He watches your face, entranced by the way your eyes roll back when he rotates his hips as he pulls out and slams back in once more. Your nails dig into his shoulders, pulling at the seams of his suit jacket. 

Steve begins to move his hips back and forth faster, the force making the wall decorations rattle. 

Your walls pulse and flutter around him, clinging when he pulls out and squeezing as he pushes in. Your body needing him but barely able to take him. That was his favorite part about having you like this. The way your body needed him, craved him. Choked sobs fall from your lips while your body spasmed and clamored for him.

“Fuck,” he grunts feeling himself start to lose control, “baby,” his voice pained at the exquisite torture your body puts him through. The soft yielding flesh against his, your impossibly tight pussy how it hugged him like a vice. 

A wrecked mewl is all you can offer, his hips stutter in tempo, legs tightening up as he unloads the first of many into you. Insatiable did not begin to describe how he felt for you. 

Steve bits his bottom lip, feeling your combined juices run down his balls. when he pushes back into your overworked center. “Fuck,” Looking down he sees the glistening mess of the two of you, and a low rumble falls from his chest. “Such a messy pussy baby.”

“Daddy,” your voice small whimper amongst the sound of slapping flesh. 

“Yeah, you want it, baby?” You nod your head. Fingers kneading the muscles in his shoulders.

“No,” He growls, “tell me.”

“I want you,” voice strangled when he thrusts in partially harder than others. “Want what?”

“I want to cum,” you get out. “Come where though?” You could kill him as he keeps pushing you to say it. But he stills, leaving just the tip in. Feeling the way your walls flutter around him as if trying to pull him back in. 

“Where do you wanna cum baby?” He looks you in the eyes, your head tilted down slightly looking at the mess of you two combined. It’s too much, you need to feel complete, the way he makes you feel. Only him.

“I wanna cum on daddy’s big cock,” A rumble builds in his chest at your words before he starts thrusting into you using his massive frame as momentum.

Frenzied cries fall from your lips at his renewed thrusts. His hand slipping forward from your hip to rub your clit with his thumb, circling the engorged nerve endings only to press down and rub frantically.  You jerk forward, legs spasming around him, your back bent head pushing into his chest as you crash with a ferocity only he can make you feel. The orgasm sweeping and breathtaking.

You’re barely coming down when you feel him jerk inside you once more spilling his cum deep into you. Your hands slide up his shoulders to cup his face pulling him towards you. Lips colliding in a sloppy tantric way. Riding the pleasure you give to each other down. 

A knock at the door followed by Bucky’s bellow of both your names breaks the post-euphoria kiss. 

“Yeah?” Steve’s voice gravely. Bucky opens the door a smidge, not daring to enter.

“Listen,” he starts inflection in his voice giving away his discomfort, “I waited until you guys were hopefully finished to say,” you meep in embarrassment, “everyone here to celebrate your engagement can hear Steve fuck you through the wall.”

You push your face into Steve’s neck trying to disappear.

“At one point we made bets when you’d both topple through the drywall.”

You moan but not in pleasure, no in utter humiliation.

“Bucky!” Steve warns. 

“Just come out you know,” Bucky clears his throat, “whenever.”

Bucky shuts the door as you begin to laugh Steve raises an eyebrow fairly certain you cracked given your shame when it came to your sex life ever being discussed, let alone overheard by people.

“What could possibly be funny to you about this?”

“My dad’s out there,” you answer as if it’s obvious but Steve doesn’t pick up on what is so funny about that, if anything you should be scolding him from pressuring you.

“I don’t think he’s ever gonna let me call him daddy again.”  You finally get out between your giggles.

Steve can feel the mortification roll up his chest, reddening his neck, face, and tips of his ears.

“Fuck,” is all he can say.

[artemisia--hq]

This prompt is from @kittensocute ‘kageyama and hinata are stuck on a ferris wheel ride’

(*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

—————————————

When one thinks of amusement parks, games and rides, and generally a fun, happy time instantly comes into mind. This, however is decidedly not fun. This is a nightmare, a weaving of pure fear and terror, and Tobio swears if he ever manages to get out of here alive, he is so going to—

“Aaahh! Ahh! We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!”

“Stop yelling, dumbass!” Tobio yells. He rubs his face with both of his palms when Hinata still wouldn’t stop screaming like a banshee. “Death is gonna be the least of your concern because I’m gonna kill you first if you don’t! Stop! Yelling!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Hinata cries, “and you’re yelling, too!” He serves Tobio a stink eye, or as stinky as he can possibly muster with his ashen face and trembling lips. Tobio just returns the glare a hundred-fold, and that seems to do the job of shutting the idiot up as he looks away with an obnoxious huff.

But the sudden silence only gives way for Tobio to marinate in regret, recounting every action that had led to the disaster they’re currently in.

It was supposed to be a fun day in the amusement park, and it did start out that way. The first and last time Tobio had been to one was years ago, with Kazuyo-san and Miwa for his tenth birthday. It is one of his most treasured memories that is completely unrelated to volleyball, the only time he had fun without it.

But spending it with his friends (and yes, that includes that bastard Tsukishima, however mortifying that concept is), had been admittedly fun, too. They were all together during the first hour, playing games and getting into every ride they could. But he and Hinata had been pre-occupied with one-upping each other with a shooting game and before they knew it, their friends were out of sight.

It was Hinata’s idea to ride the ferris wheel to look for them. Now they’re stuck in a cramped, glass-covered carriage for fifteen minutes.

“This is why you don’t get to have any dumbass ideas, you dumbass,” Tobio grumbles out loud.

Hinata bristles. “Wh-what?!”

“This is all your fault in the first place.”

The other boy lets out a disbelieving gasp. “You’re the one who said, ‘oh yeah. Good idea,’” he says in mock imitation of Tobio, flattening his hair as he does so.

He’s not wrong, but Tobio can’t give Hinata the satisfaction of being right, either, so he clicks his tongue and looks away.

Silence once again engulfs them.

Tobio gazes through the glass of the carriage to take his mind off of certain things that’s been circling his consciousness like incessant, annoying flies, things that shouldn’t be given permission to reside in his thoughts.

Getting stuck a hundred feet above the ground is bad enough as it is—getting stuck with the worst possible person just makes it a hundred times worse.

Tobio risks a sideway glance out on the corner of his eyes. Hinata has his arms around himself, as if he’s purposely trying to take up as little space as possible. Which is a weird concept to wrap around—as small as Hinata is, his larger than life presence could more than fill up a room, with that beaming smile and loud, cheery voice.

But Hinata is none of that presently. He looks quite pale, wide eyes darting around for every creak and squeak of the ferris wheel carriage, small hands clenching and unclenching the sleeves of his sweater. The most frustrating thing of all: he wouldn’t stop chewing his lower lip, now looking red and swollen and just so ki—

Tobio has to give himself a few mental punches in the head to wrench his attention away from it and to clear his thoughts.

See, this is why he absolutely shouldn’t be alone with this orange-haired gremlin. He gives Tobio horrendous ideas.

“K-Kageyama?”

Tobio’s body temperature drops to subzero. Fuck, was he caught staring? Was he too obvious? He should run—wait, no, fuck, he’s trap, he’s done for—

“Wh-what?” He snaps, anger immediately acting as a reflex.

Hinata flinches, then he sighs, looking down on his feet. “Never mind.”

Something twinges in Tobio’s chest. God, why is he so…taken with this stupid idiot. “What is it?” he asks, cutting down his tone, just a little.

The other boy still has his eyes cast down, squirming. “Uhm…”

“Out with it, dumbass.”

Those round brown eyes squeezes tight as Hinata blurts out, “Canyouholdmyhands?”

Tobio sputters, “Wh-what?”

“Can you hold my hands, please!” Hinata yells, extending both of his hands like an offering.

Okay, either he has completely lost his mind, or Hinata has.

He goes for the more convenient option.

“Are you crazy? No!” He whips his hands behind him, for good measure. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m scared and my hands are cold!” Hinata grouches, and for a second, he has every intent to fight and demand for it, like he always does, but then he deflates and slumps on his side of the carriage. “I-It’s fine. That was weird, anyway. Sorry.” He then proceeds to hug himself again, shrinking within his sweater.

Hinata has never looked so tiny and vulnerable.

Tobio’s mouth starts to open when the carriage suddenly sways and groans on his hinges. Hinata screams and Tobio is already lunging forward even before his mind could even process things, and his hands grabs onto cold, clammy ones, fingers intertwining tightly.

“We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die, Kageyama!”

“Sh-shut up! That was just the wind!”

“I-I don’t want to die, Kageyama!” Hinata wails, tears pricking on the corners of his blown, shaky eyes. “I-I still have to be good in volleyball! I still have to beat you!”

Tobio has never seen Hinata this distressed before, or even this legitimately terrified. He’s always been a scaredy-cat, but never like this. Tobio shuffles closer, gripping their joined hands. “No one’s going to die, so stop screaming.” He gives another reassuring squeeze, and it might be instinct or reflex, but Hinata squeezes back. “I won’t let that happen.”

Hinata sniffs. He blinks his glossy, golden eyes at Tobio “R-really?”

Tobio nods. “Yeah.” He hears some commotion from below and he presses his face on the glass. “Look, they’re doing something about it now.” He turns to face Hinata again. He could go in for a smile, but he figures that would only scare Hinata more than comfort him. “We’ll be out of here in no time, so just…think about something else.”

Hinata shakes his head frantically. “I-I can’t. There’s nothing in here that can distract me!” Then his gaze lands on their entwined hands. “Except, maybe…this.”

“Yeah, well…if that helps,” Tobio murmurs as he stares at their hands, too, before stalwartly looking away. If Hinata finds comfort in that, Tobio, on the contrary, needs a distraction of his own away from it. He settles at looking over the glistening lake dotted with tiny boats shaped like swans and turtles at the distance, but all of his nerve endings seem to concentrate on the point of contact between the, feeling each ridge and bumps of those rough, calloused hands wrapping around his own. Yet, they’re also unbelievably soft, if that makes any sense. Hinata just seems to defy all rules of the universe, from his jumps to the feel of his hands.

They are a bit sweaty, though, which is kind of gross. But Hinata being gross is not an entirely alien concept to Tobio, so whatever.

“Your hands are really warm,” Hinata says suddenly in genuine awe, as if he doesn’t mean to say them out loud.

Tobio’s hands are not the only ones getting warm—he can feel the back of his neck and his ears prickle with heat. “And really big. And your fingers are super long.” Hinata adds.

Tobio is half a mind to withdraw his hand and pocket them into safety, if only to keep them away from scrutinizing large eyes and to save himself from spontaneously combusting. But it does seem to calm Hinata, so it’s a risk he just has to endure.

He faces the other boy—the whole distract himself thing isn’t really working, anyway. “Obviously, dumbass,” he jibes, “I’m bigger than you everywhere.”

Hinata just nods, then he’s silent for a moment, before whispering, “Is this weird for you?”

“What, that I’m bigger?”

“No, stupid,” Hinata says with a roll of his eyes. “I meant, this.” He gestures at their hand, lifting them and letting it drop in the space between their knees.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Tobio says, although he’s not really sure if he’s saying that to Hinata or himself. “You’re the one who asked for it.”

Hinata shrugs. “That’s different. I didn’t think you’d be up for it.” When Tobio doesn’t answer, Hinata sighs. “I-I mean, you normally do this kind of thing with…you know…” he trails, his pale cheeks quickly rising in color, eyes looking anywhere but at Tobio’s face.

“No, I don’t know,” Tobio says.

Amber eyes finally locking with blue ones, Hinata says in the softest voice, “You do this kind of thing with the person you like.”

“I do like you.”

It must be the work of altitude and oxygen and all the science-y stuff Tobio never paid any attention to in class because it’s the only logical explanation why his mouth decides to run off without his brain. He resists the urge to face palm himself hard enough to propel himself into the next dimension.

Hinata, understandably, stares at Tobio like he’s grown an extra head plus a tail. “You—like—what?!” he screeches, face and neck dousing in crimson red, and Tobio figures, he’s faring no better. “Y-you like me?!”

“I-I meant as a-a friend!” Tobio stammers, shouts, whatever. “As a friend and—and teammate! Dumbass!”

“I-I know that! I-It just surprised me!” Hinata shouts back, even as his face burns even deeper, redder than the sun settling behind the mountains.

Then he snickers, quickly turning into a full-on laugh.

“W-what? What’s funny?” Trying to sound demanding is hard when Tobio’s heart is lodged in his throat and with his entire body on fire.

Hinata snorts out a giggle, then he’s smiling at Tobio, radiant and flushed and—

Beautiful.

Here, trapped in a cramped, musty enclosed glass a hundred feet up in the air, Hinata—his rival, his partner, and if it isn’t obvious enough, the guy he’s been crushing on for months, looks achingly beautiful.

“Well, that makes me happy, because I like you, too!” Hinata exclaims.

Tobio has never really understood the expression ‘on cloud nine high,’ but he’s pretty sure this bursting feeling within his chest must be pretty damn close.

Then the beaming smile turns into a teasing smirk. “Even though you’re sometimes mean and violent and calls me dumbass more than my own name.”

And Tobio can’t help it, he smirks right back. “Dumbass.”

Their nonsensical argument of who likes who continues until the ferris wheel starts to turn and move again, continuing even after their feet touch the ground, as they zigzag their way among the crowd in search of their friends.

With Hinata’s hand still clutched over his.

—————————————

Thank you for indulging my request (begging) for a prompt! I have to apologize, though, this is not as good as I’d like to be, but it does help me ease out of my writing slump. I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless! ^o^

You can also read it on ao3 (with minor edits)

[spencersawkward]

Hii I'm backkk but can I request a little shower sex fic with mgg and he finds out reader has a choking kink? No Dom vibes but just reader loves to be choked and doesn't know how to ask? Maybe a praise kink tho? Please and thank you! 💕🙈

yes fs! y'all i had the shittiest day today lol but writing this made me feel so much better :) anyway i hope i did your concept justice! 

summary: Matthew comes home early and tries something new with reader.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, choking, praise kink, finger-fucking, masturbation, creampie. pretty much just pure smut. 

word count: 2.1k

the water turns hot beneath my fingers as I stand in the middle of the bathroom, my clothes still on. it's been an exhausting day and the only thing on my mind is the image of scalding water on my skin. after being pulled from one meeting to the next without much of a break, all I need is some relief. I feel as though my limbs have been stretched like taffy.

I watch the steam start to issue from the shower, inhale deeply as the air gets warmer. I let my hair down and begin to strip off the garments that have kept me prisoner all day. there's an actual sigh that comes from my chest once I'm completely naked, just looking at myself in the mirror.

I'm about to hop in when I hear something of a commotion downstairs. Matthew was supposed to be at work until later this evening, so my heart stops at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

"Y/N!" the sound of his voice sets me at ease. I feel a small, excited smile spread over my face. I've been thinking about him all day, daydreaming during meetings, even. we've been together for a while, now, but the idea of him still fills my stomach with butterflies.

"about to hop in the shower!" I open the bathroom door and call out to him. his footsteps get closer and closer until Matthew is standing right in front of me, tall and pretty and grinning. the top button of his shirt is open. his eyes flicker over my figure and I go to hug him.

"hi, beautiful girl." he kisses the top of my head while he wraps his arms around my waist. he smells like fresh air and that cologne I like.

"hi." I force myself to pull away, look at him more closely.  

"I wasn't expecting this." he refers to my naked greeting, though not unappreciatively. I giggle.

"oh zip it, mister," I turn and grab his hand, tugging him with me into the bathroom. his eyebrows rise at the sight of the steam that's starting to fill the space, but I speak before he can tease. “do you wanna join me?"

he's already taking off his clothes. the shirt goes first, slipping over that delicious torso and landing on the counter. then the pants, the mismatched socks, the boxers. I bite down on my lip as I watch, every feature mine for the taking. he straightens up and smiles.

"what?" he asks. I step closer and touch his face. my eyes must be the size of saucers right now, so in love and full of stars, although I couldn't care less.

"I'm just glad you're here."

he gazes at me a moment, placing his fingers over mine and turning his head to kiss my palm.

"I'm also glad that I'm here," he laughs. I snatch my hand away jokingly, but he takes it again. "ready?"

he opens the shower door and I brush past, yelping a bit when he slaps my ass on the way in. he avoids the waterfall at first, wincing when a couple stray drops land on his skin. "that's way too hot, baby."

"mmm," I frown, but turn the knob to cool it down. "fine."

"I missed you." he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear while I stand beneath the waterfall. his eyes follow the rivulets pouring over the curves of my body, hungry to touch me in the same way. I pull him to me, dragging him under the narrow shower stream.

"I missed you, too." the words come out between kisses. I love winding my fingers through his curls when they're all wet; they get plastered to his forehead in this funny way that's simply too adorable. his hands tug my waist closer, one of them moving down to grab my butt.

"yeah?" he slides his tongue over my bottom lip. "how are you doing?"

"honestly," I remove my mouth just enough for us to nuzzle our noses. "kind of shitty."

"noo," it's said like a whine as he pouts. "what happened?"

"can I tell you later? I don't really wanna think about it right now."

"of course," he smiles gently, once again pressing our lips together in a smooth, delicate swoop. "would you rather think about the fact that we're both naked?" his tongue finds my earlobe. "and we have all--" over my throat. "night--" his stubble brushes my shoulder. "long?"

my knees go weak.

"yes, please." I hum with satisfaction as the pad of his thumb brushes over my nipple. I can feel his erection against my stomach, begging to be touched. and all I want to do is give him something, but he's got all attention on me right now. cupping my ass and holding me to him, grinding our bodies together slightly.

he lets out a lazy groan into my neck before sinking his teeth in. he stops himself, however, to reach between us and run his middle finger down my slit. I hiss in a breath when he pauses at my clit.

"you're so wet." he smirks. I blush and resist the urge to hit him playfully for the stupid double entendre. he's cute.

"ridiculous." I laugh, but it turns into a high-pitched moan because he starts to play with my pussy like it's his fucking job. the water streaming down my back only adds to the sensation. warmth all around me when I grab his forearm as it rests over my stomach. I need it for stability, even as his index dips into my entrance with ease.

"you want more?" he's dexterous in his movements, finding ways to stimulate me while sliding in and out at the same time. I move against his touch and he inserts another digit. my eyes roll into the back of my head. I couldn't speak if I tried; he's too good.

"I love how you feel around my fingers." he moans in my ear. I let go of his arm to find his cock, grabbing the base, starting to jerk him off. he moans at the contact and starts to fuck my hand while getting me off simultaneously. I look up at him while he does it, water droplets sliding off the edge of my nose from the steady stream of hot water. his lips are swollen from claiming me. I wish that I could touch and capture this image all at once, the way he looks.

I feel myself nearing the edge as the rhythm of his circles gets more intense. my legs are slightly shaky but the knowledge that I've got his dick in my grasp is enough to keep me standing. I love pleasuring Matthew. he's so confident and sweet all the time that when he comes undone, it's like watching a painting come together. every line and complexity of his expression is more vivid.

I gasp as I fall apart on him.

"I'm--" I whimper, sighing as I cum. he smirks eagerly, increasing his pace still as if to torture me with another orgasm.

"good girl," he murmurs, entranced. "keep cumming."

"fuck me--" I inhale. "fuck me now."

"don't have to ask me twice." he smiles, removing himself and pushing me against the wall of the shower. the cold tiles cause goosebumps to travel over my skin, but they're quickly forgotten as Matthew kisses me and holds my leg up.

"tell me if you want me to change positions, okay?" he mutters as he aligns himself. even in his sexual stupor, he makes sure I'm comfortable. we never have shower sex because it's usually impractical; this is a special occasion. I nod and then his tip is pushing into me. he's quick to sheathe himself, dropping his head onto my shoulder and letting out a loud, lascivious moan.

"oh my fucking god." he breathes, starting to thrust. I dig my nails into his shoulders from the intensity.

"that's so deep." I moan. he's pleased with that thought, going a little harder to brush over my cervix.

"there it is." he chuckles darkly at the sound of my heavy breathing, knowing he's found that spot. his fingers slip over my waist, grasping roughly at me in the wetness of the shower. somehow, he's still careful. I buck for more and he whimpers at the feeling of my impatient body. all I want is to cum on him again, and I know he wants to find that release.

"you're perfect." his movements are so well-executed, our stomachs and chests pressed together. I'm standing on my tiptoes for him, but it's not uncomfortable. he's holding one leg up for better access. my back moves up the wall at the force of him.

"fuck..." I throw my head back against the tile and Matthew's eyes flicker to my hickey-scattered neck. he bites his lip.

"pretty marks." he smirks. I look at him deeply for a moment, at the vein in his forehead and the tense of his shoulders as he fucks me, and I feel the pressure build in my stomach. I know what I need and I've never shared it before-- but god, do I need it. I don't know how to tell him where.

instead, my hand finds his, guiding it up to my throat. his fingers wrap around the column slowly and he raises his eyebrows.

"you want me to choke you, sweetheart?" he asks, pace getting faster. I nod. he follows through, tightening his grip just enough to allow me the room to breathe without imposing too much, and I feel myself get even more aroused. Matthew keeps glancing between his touch to the euphoric smile on my face, and he goes harder on me.

"you look so fucking beautiful like that," he pants. every time his hips slam into mine, I feel myself losing control. "with my hand around your throat."

I squirm and hold onto his arm again for balance while he works me like he knows my body better than I do. he lifts my leg a little higher and the angle changes slightly, causing us to both let out pleasured noises.

"always so tight for me." he holds our foreheads together and swallows my heavy breaths. we move so easily, him and I. like we've always done this. we fit together. I can't get enough of his skin.

"Matthew..." I whine, trying so hard to meet his thrusts. he's fucking enormous as he stretches my walls. the first time we had sex, he wasn't able to get all the way inside until we had almost reached our climaxes. but now I'm always able to take him. even though he sometimes leaves a dull ache in the morning.

"too tight?" he asks carefully, removing the pressure. I shake my head and bring it back to me. he lets out something like a laugh, although he's too wrapped up in his pleasure to really commit to it. "tighter?"

"mhmm." I love how it feels, as though he's boxing me in. it's just him and I, my touch wandering over his back. I squeeze around him to feel the warm pressure moving into me.

"that's my girl." Matthew smiles, using his grip on my neck to lift my mouth to his for a kiss. I moan as he continues to hit my g-spot over and over, the feeling almost blinding. if we could stay like this, his body shoving so voraciously, forever, I would be happy.

every moment is electrified. I can feel his cock in the deepest part of me while he moans my name and drowns me in compliments, his thrusts starting to get erratic. his thumb is rubbing gently over the skin of my neck in a gesture of tenderness, even as he just slightly cuts off my airway. it's heavenly. we hold eye contact.

"such a sweet girl." he's messy and I can't stop whimpering as I start to pulse around his length. I feel my orgasm coming fast and hard, like a wave, and the stress from earlier washes away from my muscles. every place he touches is like the unwinding of a string, a loosening that I've been needing.

"I'm close." I whisper. his thrusts are pushing me up the wall so hard that my toes leave the ground a little. I'm not complaining as he propels his body to mine.

"me, too, baby. cum on it." he groans at the pulsating sensations, his lips pressed to my cheek while he lets out sinful, delightful noises. I pull him under the tide, clenching my pussy around him again and again until he shudders and his jaw drops.

"oh fuck, baby..." he moans in my ear. I can feel his seed inside, him stilling as the muscles in his shoulders jump. my fingers loop around his neck to help support him while he loses it all, and I can feel the quickness of his pulse. his grip lowers from my neck and then we're just caught in a warm embrace in the shower, breathing in steam and the scent of our skin.

"wow." I run my fingers through his hair.

"I had no idea you were into that." he lifts his head to smile a little at me.

"I didn't know if you would be okay with it." I shrug.

"it's hot." he smiles and we start to kiss all over again, just the two of us.