#pwithplot

[selunefae]

About pipes and sinks (+18) - Reiner Braun

It's a hot summer day, and a hot plumber comes to get your sink fixed. No pun intended.

masterlist | rules

rating: +18, MDNI

word count: 5,498

tags: reiner braun x reader, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader, modern AU

cw: PwithPlot, shameless smut, fingering (female receiving), oral sex (female receiving), PinV sex, safe sex, reiner braun has a big dick, size difference, size kink if you squint

notes: Tomorrow I have a job interview and I wrote this instead of preparing myself. :) What can I say? Reiner gets me inspired. What also inspired me it's the fact that I also have a damn sink in my home that doesn't stop leaking because my building is really old and the insurance company doesn't do anything (and it's really hot outside). Pretty self-indulgent fanfic. Anyways, hope you enjoy it. (English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.  Also, the setting is inspired by how things work in my country, in case you find it weird.)

You barely register the doorbell over the hum of the fan that’s lazily pushing lukewarm air across the room. It’s hot outside, too hot. And it's no better inside your apartment. Or technically your mom’s, but she lets you pretend otherwise in the meantime. You’re spread out on the couch like you’re melting into it, the synthetic fabric sticking to the backs of your thighs. You have the lightest clothes you found in the closet, and yet, you’re still sweating, tank top clinging to your skin in all the wrong places, leaving little to the imagination. You didn’t even bother with a bra today, and your shorts… well, calling them "shorts" is generous.

The bell rings again.

With a groan, you peel yourself off the couch, brushing some stray hair off your face. You walk towards the door like your legs weigh a ton each, and when you reach it, you don’t even bother checking the peephole. It’s probably your mom anyway.  Maybe she forgot her keys again; she always does.

You open the door mid-eye roll.

You freeze in your spot.

It’s a man.

He looks around your age. Tall and broad shoulders. One arm wrapped around a toolbox, the other hanging loosely by his side. He’s wearing a tight grey t-shirt, and you can’t help to notice how it clings to his chest and arm muscles in a way that should be illegal. His gaze lifts, and his eyes go a little wide the moment he sees you.

You feel it in the pit of your stomach before your brain catches up.

Oh.

Oh no .

Your hands instinctively pull your tank down as much as possible, which isn’t much. You try to subtly cross your arms over your chest without making it obvious, trying to cover the cleavage that just appeared from pulling your top down. You’re regretting your choice of not putting a bra on. Your cheeks burn. 

"Uh..." the man starts, voice deep and a little too hoarse. He tries hard not to stare, and instead fixes his gaze on something above your head. "Plumber. Your mom called about a leak?”

Of course she did. And she didn’t tell you!

You contemplate sending her a strongly worded text, cursing her.

“Right,”  you say, stepping aside so fast your shoulder brushes the door frame.. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“It’s alright,” he mutters, gaze flicking to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but directly at you. “Uh… should I take my shoes off, or…?”

“No, no, you’re good. The, uh… the pipe’s in the kitchen. Under the sink. It started dripping last night.”

You lead him down the hallway, hyper-aware of the way your shorts ride up with every step. You try not to glance over your shoulder, though you absolutely do.

He’s... very hot. Like, shouldn’t-be-allowed-to-do-manual-labor hot. He’s blonde, hair short and messy, and it lets you have a complete view of how face. Hazel eyes, sharp jaw, defined facial features. He towers over you and looks rather intimidating, but you can’t complain; that adds to the hotness. You don’t even realize you're staring until you see him set his toolbox on the counter and crouch low, shirt pulling tight across his back as he opens the cabinet under the sink.

You sit on the nearby stool and try not to combust.

Neither of you says much, and you just wait for him to finish. Every movement he makes draws your eye. The way he tightens a bolt. The way his forearm flexes. The low grunt he makes when something doesn’t budge. The fan hums uselessly in the background, but you’re not hot because of the weather anymore.

After what feels like forever, he leans back with a soft groan, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. His shirt rides up with the motion, revealing a flash of his stomach. You feel your cheeks get even hotter and immediately snap your eyes away.

“The leak’s fixed for now,” he says, standing. His voice is softer than before. His eyes flick to yours and then move away. He rubs the back of his neck. “But, uh… I think it might be an issue with the building’s plumbing system. I’d recommend checking it again in a couple of days. Just to be safe.”

“Okay,” you nod, trying not to look too eager (or too flustered). “I’ll tell my mom.”

You both take your time before heading to the entryway, you walking ahead, he trailing just a bit behind. At the door, he doesn’t open it right away. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, toolbox in hand, and he looks at your face like he’s about to say something. You hold your breath, expecting. But he doesn't say anything.

“I’ll be going now,” he says, clearing his throat.

“Right. Uh, thanks for coming.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He hesitates, then adds, “See you.”

You open the door for him. “Bye.”

It closes behind him with a soft click. You lean against it, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“God,” you whisper to yourself. Your body feels like it’s still holding the heat of his presence. 

You groan and press your palms to your face.

Mom is so dead.

—

It’s been two days since the first visit, and you’re still thinking about it.

You’re not trying to. But it happens anyway. You don’t usually come face-to-face with someone who looks like they walked out of a booktok romance novel, and you can’t help your hormones trying to play tricks on you. You feel bad for fantasizing about a stranger. Hell, you don’t even know his name! But little flashes of memory flood your brain: the way his deep voice sounded, the focused look in his face while he worked,  the way his shirt clung to his back when he bent down–

“Sweetie, can you be home around noon? I had to call the plumber again,” your mom says from the hallway, one arm already grabbing her bag. “That pipe’s still acting up. And I just got called for a midday turn.”

Your spoon froze halfway to your mouth. “Wait - the same plumber?”

“I think so. Reiner, right?”

You repeat it in your head a few times.

It fits him.

“Yes!” you answer a little too fast, nearly choking on your cereal. “Okay! Yeah, I can be home.”

This time, you prepare.

 You swap the booty shorts for a pleated, high-waisted skirt in a light color, and pair it with a cropped tee in a fabric thin enough to breathe, but thick enough to not flash anyone. You put your hair up with a clip, trying to look casual. It’s effortless. Or… it looks like it.

You’ve only changed three times and spent only 40 minutes washing your hair. That’s restraint.

When the doorbell rings at 12:07, you’re already by the door. You smooth your skirt one more time, look if your hair is tidy enough in the mirror, and open it.

Reiner’s there. Same gray t-shirt. Same toolbox. Same serious expression. But when his eyes land on you, his expression changes. His eyes soften, and the corners of his mouth tug up into the ghost of a smile.

“Hey,” he says.

You smile back, more confident than the last time. “Hi.”

The air between you still carries that trace of awkwardness, but it feels… different now.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, gaze flicking down the hall, “your mom said about the pipe is still leaking?”

You nod. “Yeah. She’s not home again, but I can show you.” You try not to sound too excited about being alone with him again. You fail.

As you lead him to the kitchen, you notice he follows a little closer this time. And just before you reach the sink, he asks:

“What’s your name, by the way?”

You turn your head over your shoulder. “Oh, right. We didn’t even introduce ourselves last time.”

You give him your name, and he repeats it back under his breath. You can’t tell if he’s committing it to memory or just savoring the way it sounds. Either way, it sends a quiet rush of heat up your neck.

“That’s pretty,” he says.

Your mouth opens, then closes. “Thanks,” you manage, voice small.

“I’m Reiner,” he adds.

“I know,” you reply, then immediately cringe. “I mean- my mom told me.”

He lets out a short laugh. You’re sure he can tell you’re nervous, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Instead, he sets the toolbox down with care, crouching beside the sink. He doesn’t move right away. His hand hovers near the cabinet handle like he’s waiting for something. Or maybe hoping you’ll say something first. So you gather whatever courage you can find and perch on the stool across from him, folding your hands in your lap to keep them from fidgeting.

“So… how come you’re so young and already doing this kind of work?”

He glances up, eyes meeting yours. “Thanks for saying I’m young,” he says, smiling. “People always think I’m older than I am.”

He shifts his weight, leaning against one knee. “It’s a family business. My uncle owns the company. I started helping out in high school, and then I just… stuck with it.”

You hum, eyes flicking to the tools spread out around him. You’re not sure what else to say, but you’re not ready for the conversation to end.

“And… do you get a lot of pipe emergencies in this building?”

“Not usually,” he answers, gaze softening each time he meets your face. “But I don’t mind coming back.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile like an idiot. It doesn’t work, though.

Eventually, he crouches back down and gets to work. You stay in your usual spot and try to keep things casual. You crack a few jokes. You don’t know where the sudden boldness comes from, but maybe it's easier when he’s not looking right at you. He says he’s never encountered such a problematic sink before. You tell him it is clearly cursed, and maybe it’s haunted. He reciprocates, not missing a beat, “ If it starts talking to you, call someone else .”

You snort, loud enough that you immediately cover your mouth. He looks back from the sink and grins tenderly at you. Something flutters inside your chest. Not just because you’re able to joke with your hot plumber , but also because you’re making a connection with him. And he’s not just good to look at – he’s funny, kind, and patient.

He finishes adjusting the last bit of piping, runs the tap, checks the drainage, and stands up again, brushing his hands on a rag tucked into his back pocket.

“It’s not you guys,” he says. “It’s definitely the building. The piping system’s old and probably hasn’t been updated since… ever.”

You wince. “So we need to call our insurance?”

“Yeah. Or talk to the building association. Maybe both.”

“Ugh. Adult things,” you sigh dramatically

He lets out a low chuckle. “Yeah. It sucks.”

The two of you walk back to the entryway together, your shoulders brushing as you stop by the door. You want to say something. Something cool. Something casual. Like, we should hang out sometime when you're not covered in sink water. Ask for his number, maybe just his Instagram. But it seems all that boldness from earlier is gone. So, you just smile at him and twist the hem of your shirt with your fingers, already mentally resigning this to being a stupid little summer crush you’ll laugh about someday.

You glance up at him. He’s already grabbing the handle. He hesitates for a second before stepping out. And you already know what’s coming. Or rather, what isn’t.  All your fantasies crumble into pieces. You’ll probably cry to your friends in a few months. Remember that hot plumber? Yeah, never saw him again.

But, while you’re mentally grieving something that didn’t even start, he turns back around.

His brows pull together, like he’s debating something. Then, with a scratch to the back of his neck and a too-casual shrug, he says, “Hey. Uh… do you have a boyfriend?”

Your heart does a backflip.

“No,” you answer too fast for your liking.

He nods, trying not to look too relieved. “Cool. Uh… can I have your Instagram?”

You don’t even speak. You just reach for your phone from the piece of furniture by the door, nearly dropping it in your rush to unlock the screen. You hand it to him with shaking fingers. He huffs a quiet laugh and pulls out his phone, typing your username into the notes app. You catch a glimpse of his lock screen. A dog.

Of course he has a dog.

“I really enjoyed talking to you,” he says, already stepping backward down the hall.

You laugh, cheeks hot. “Same.”

“Bye,” he says your name as he says goodbye. It sounds beautiful coming from his lips.

“Bye, Reiner.”

You close the door. You stand there for a full five seconds, frozen. And then, you jump. Not even on purpose. Your whole body just lifts a little with the joy inside you. You cover your mouth with your hands like you’re afraid someone might hear you being this happy.

Your sink is still broken, insurance probably won’t help, it's still burning hot outside… But at least, Reiner asked you for your Instagram. 

Maybe this summer crush isn’t so stupid after all.

—

That same evening, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling aimlessly, still half-warm from the heat that still clings to the apartment. Your phone buzzes.

🔔 @/reinerbraun has sent you a follow request.

You sit up so fast that the sheet tangles around your ankles. Your heart skips, and you tap the notification without thinking. You almost dropped your phone in the process. Again. You really need to start being more careful with your belongings. You hit accept immediately, then you tap on his profile. For someone who looked straight out of a magazine, his Instagram is… normal. It kind of comforts you. He has roughly a thousand followers. Most of his feed is snapshots of daily life: photos at family gatherings, someone’s birthday with a cake held off-center, a selfie with a brunette kid (probably a nephew, maybe a cousin)... He has a few gym pics, grainy mirror selfies… And then the dog. You recognize her from his lockscreen. Big, golden, floppy-eared. She reminds you of him.

You’ve been lurking for almost an hour – zooming in, reading old captions, stalking his friends’ profiles without shame – when another notification flashes across your screen.

📩 @/reinerbraun replied to your story highlight: “Cute ☺️”

Your stomach flips. You forgot that story was even pinned. It’s a selfie of you holding your cat from months ago, blurry and badly liy, your face half-hidden behind fur.

You quickly reply: “omg i forgot that was even there haha. thanks 😳”

A moment later, he responds: “How’s the sink situation btw?”

You grin and sink into your sheets, already typing.

“we still haven’t call insurance, but they’ll ignore us anyway”

You keep texting for a while. It’s easier over text (probably because you don’t have to look directly at his face…). At some point, you ask about his dog, and he sends you a photo of her sleeping next to him. You send one of your cat in retaliation, accompanied by a text that says “ enemy spotted ”. He reacts with a laughing emoji. Sends a meme. You trade voice notes. You enjoy talking to him. He’s funny, and sweet, too.

You don’t want it to end.

But after a while, it does. Your last message – something dumb and kind of flirty, something you wouldn't even know how to respond to if roles were reversed – sits there. Sent. You check again. He’s not online anymore. You stare at the screen longer than you want to admit. You try to brush it off. He’s probably busy , you tell yourself, but still, the ache in your chest lingers. You put your phone face down on your nightstand and roll onto your side, pulling the blanket up even though it’s too hot. 

He was probably just being polite. Just small talk. Still, when you close your eyes, your chest aches a little.

And you don’t have good dreams that night.

The next morning, the sun pulls you out of sleep early. You wake up sticky, already reaching for your phone with half-lidded eyes.

One notification:

(@/reinerbraun) “Sorry, had to run out last night. Something came up. Wasn’t trying to ghost you.”

You read it three times, relief warming you again. But then you notice he hasn’t responded to what you said or follow up the conversation. Still, you type back: “no worries! ^^”

He doesn’t answer. Not that hour. Not that day.

At first, you check your phone constantly. Refresh the chat like something might change if you just stare hard enough. Then, gradually, you stop checking. 

The first few days are the worst. You’re sad and feel like crying. But being frank, that’s on you for getting your hopes up with a stranger.

You’ll end up forgetting him.

—

It’s been a few weeks.

Reiner fades into the background of your mind like a dream you end up forgetting throughout the day. You never unfollowed him. Never deleted the chat. But you're not sad anymore. You can’t afford to spend your whole summer mourning a near-miss. Earth continues spinning.

You continue living your life. One morning, your mom storms out of her room mid-call, muttering something under her breath.

“I swear, they do nothing. We’ve had leaks for weeks now,” she snaps, typing something on her phone. “I’m calling someone else. I’m done with this.”

And then she’s gone, shoes smacking down the hallway and keys jingling behind her. You’re used to this, so you don’t bother to ask. You go back to lounging on the couch, same spot as always, wearing a short beach dress that’s your lightest piece of clothing. It’s a hot summer Sunday, and all your friends have family gatherings, so you don’t have anything to do. You decide to spend your day scrolling through your phone. Your phone is already overheating on your chest when your eyelids start drooping. You fall asleep mid-scroll.

Ding-dong!

The ring of the doorbell pulls you out of your sleep.

Your body reacts before your brain catches up, legs swinging over the side of the couch as you get up. You’re still foggy, limbs heavy with sleep, and you move mechanically, without thinking much about what you’re doing. You open the door mid-yawn –

Oh.

Reiner.

He looks almost the same as the last time you saw him. His hair is a little longer, a little messier. There’s the faintest trace of facial hair, just a few days’ worth, like he shaved recently but didn’t bother to keep up with it. He’s wearing a different tee, but it fits the same way. And he’s also holding the same toolbox. You’ve forgotten this is exactly how you met him. You’ve forgotten him at all.

You blink, heart stammering in your chest. “…Hi.”

“Hey,” he says. Then lets out a small, awkward chuckle. “Deja vu?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “I, uh… wasn’t expecting you.”

“Your mom called this morning. Said it got worse.”

You nod. “Yeah. The kitchen is basically flooded.”

You both smile, but it doesn’t seem genuine. This time, there’s also tension in the air, but for different reasons than the first time. It makes you uncomfortable. You wait for him to say something, to apologize. But he just shifts and looks behind you. “Can I…?”

“Oh, yeah- come in,” you step aside and let him pass.

You feel the tension again. He doesn’t look back at you, doesn’t smile, doesn’t start polite small talk. He knows this isn’t just a normal encounter anymore. He sets the toolbox down by the counter, and you expect him to get to work immediately, so you debate whether you should just go somewhere else to make things less awkward. But instead of going straight to work, he looks at you..

“I wanted to say sorry,” he confesses. “About… not replying. I didn’t mean to ghost you.”

You don’t know what to say. So you just offer a half-shrug. “It’s fine. You didn’t owe me anything.”

“I know. But I still feel like I should’ve said something.” He exhales, scratching the back of his neck.   “I don’t use social media much. And I’ve been working a lot. Some personal things happened… Anyways, I’m really sorry.”

His voice falters at the end, so you put your sweetest smile on your face and nod sympathetically. “Seriously, Reiner. It’s okay. We only knew each other for, like, two days. It’s not like we were –”

“I was afraid I led you on,” he says, cutting you off. His voice is lower now. “I don’t want you to think I was just being polite. Because I wasn’t.”

You swallow. Your chest beats faster with each of his words. You meet his eyesand something in you stirs.

He looks down, like calculating his words, then lifts his eyes back to you. “I was really interested in you,” he continues. “I still am. I wanted to ask you out. That day. But I chickened out.”

Your chest fills so fast it aches. You can barely hear him over the sound of your heartbeat, fluttering wild against your ribs in violent moves.

“So… I was wondering,” he adds, “if you wanted to go out sometime. To get to know each other. This time for real.”

A grin spreads across your face before you can stop it. A genuine one. You curl your fingers into the center of your palm, pressing your nails in gently to ground yourself and not jump out of excitement.

“I’d love that.” 

After that, he gets to work. You sit on your usual stool, but this time, you’re not paying attention. You barely register the sounds of tools clicking or the distant splash of water. Your brain is too occupied fantasizing about what you two could do once you go out. Somewhere between your tenth fantasy and the imagined sound of him saying your name again, he straightens. 

“That should do it for now,” he says, turning the faucet off with a final twist. “Leak’s sealed.”

You nod, blinking back into reality. He walks with you to the door, and like the last time, he lingers. “That was nice,” he murmurs.

You nod again, a little dazed. Your gaze is fixed on him, and you barely notice how close you’ve gotten. His scent surrounds you. He smells like sweat mixed with deodorant, but you like it. He smells manly. It stirs something inside you. Without noticing, you get closer. You don’t plan to kiss him. You just… do. You rise on your toes slowly, tilting your head as your eyes flick to his mouth. You close the space, nervous but sure. His eyes widen in surprise, and for one second, your stomach drops.

Shit. Did I just –

But then one of his hands is on your waist, the other gently cupping your cheek. He kisses you back.

His lips are surprisingly gentle and soft, a contradiction to everything else about him. You wrap your arms around his neck, tilting your chin just right to stay there, toes straining. It’s a chaste, innocent kiss, but you don’t want it to finish. Eventually, your calves start to ache. You lower yourself off your toes, and the kiss breaks. He has a faint pink color on his cheeks.

You smile, a little sheepish. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

He smiles back at you and grabs you, mouth crashing into yours again. This time, the kiss is messier and deeper. His tongue brushes your lips, and you open instinctively, letting him in. 

You whimper into his mouth, the sound muffled by the contact. His hands are everywhere – your waist, your back, your face. Yours slide into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands at the nape of his neck. He groans softly as you pull, and something about that sound goes straight into your core.

He pulls back, breathing hard. “I’m sorry if I’m going too fast…”

You shake your head, lips parted. “Don’t worry… I like it.”

You kiss him again. His hands slid up your thighs, lifting you like you weigh nothing. You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you, still kissing while he walks you through the apartment. He kicks open a door. Your room. Then closes it behind him. He tosses you gently onto the bed. You land with a bounce, blinking up at him as he stands there, breath heavy, muscles rising and falling beneath his tight shirt. 

And… then it hits you.

Your heart pounds against your ribs. What you think is happening, it’s happening. You’re obviously not a virgin, but the last time you had sex was months ago, before breaking up with your ex. You're also not used to hook-up culture, never done it in your life. Reiner notices, kneels beside you, and brushes your hair back.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

You bite your lip, then reach for his hand. “I want to,” you whisper. “I want you.”

And with that, he’s on you again.

This time, his kisses are hungrier.  He nips at your lips, sucks on your tongue, his hands gripping you everywhere. His body settles over you, one knee nudging between your legs until your thighs fall open. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, down the line of your collarbone, dragging his tongue over your skin and savouring you. His hand slips under the hem of your dress, fingers brushing along your thigh. You arch up into him.

“You’re so soft…” he groans when his fingers touch your bare thigh.

His hands push the fabric up until the dress is bunched around your waist. His mouth moves to your stomach, your hip, kissing slowly like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. When his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses and looks up at you.

You nod.

He slides them down and stares at your bare cunt like a hungry man.

“You’re beautiful.”

You reach for his shirt and tug. He lifts his arms so you can pull it off, revealing everything you had only imagined: broad chest, toned muscles covered by a soft layer of fat, a soft trail of blonde hair disappearing into his jeans. You run your hands all over him, fingers tracing muscle and skin like you’re the one memorizing him now. He continues kissing down your body, now trailing soft kisses in your inner thighs until he meets your entrance. There, he press a soft kiss in your clit. You gasp, fingers flying to his hair. His tongue slides out and he starts licking. His mouth is hot, wet, his lips wrapping around your clit, and then his tongue dragging along your entrance. He hums low when you arch beneath him, and the sound sends sparks straight to your cunt. One of his hands grips your thigh. The other moves between your legs, fingers slicking through your folds before pressing inside, sliding one finger inside of you. Then another. You’re so wet, so you don’t put much pressure. He pumps them slow at first, then faster, curling them at just the right angle, matching the rhythm of his tongue. You’re panting now, your thighs trembling around his head. You feel your release building with each movement, with each flick of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers –

“Reiner -” you moan, feeling it.

Your body tenses, back arching off the bed as your orgasm hits hard and fast, your legs pressing around his head. He doesn’t stop, helping you through it. He groans against you and drinks every last drop of your juices. When you’re done, he sits up. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips soaked with your cum. He licks his lips with his eyes locked up with yours, and you almost faint.

You’re still catching your breath, legs still shaky from the aftershocks of release, when Reiner moves back up your body. He kisses you, and you taste your release in his mouth. His weight settles again over you, and you part your legs to welcome him.

Your fingers find the waistband of his jeans.

He starts unbuckling his belt, but then stops. “Wait, do you have a condom?”

You nod and reach over, opening the drawer of your nightstand. You’re grateful now that you didn’t throw them out. He takes one from your hand, kissing your knuckles as he pulls back. He strips, pulling his jeans and boxers down in one single motion.

His cock springs free, slapping lightly against his abdomen.

Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s big. Not only an above average size, but also thick. Veins run along his shaft, tip flushed and glistening. He’s more than you expected, more than you’ve ever had. Your thighs squeeze together instinctively. You’re not even sure how you’ll fit him.

He notices you staring and smirks.

“Like what you see?” He says as he tears the condom open and rolls it on with ease.

You can’t even respond.

He settles over you again, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close. His hand reaches down to guide himself into your entrance. You feel the head of his cock slide trough your folds, and you moan with your lip between your teeth.

He pauses and looks up at you. He wants to see your face when he enters.

Then, he presses in.

You gasp, loud, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body stretches around him. It’s been a while since you last had sex, and he’s too big. It burns at first. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he groans, holding himself back.

“Fuck,” he hisses, forehead resting agaisnt yours. “You’re so tight.”

He doesn’t push all the way in yet. He shifts his thumb down your clit and starts rubbing slow, gentle circles. You exhale shakily, the pain easing into heat. Your walls relax, and he presses deeper. Both of you moan when he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours. You feel so full.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice gentler now.

You shake your head, lips parted and eyes half-lidded. “No. Feels… amazing.”

He waits one more second. Then pulls back and starts to move. The pace builds fast, he doesn’t hold back anymore. His hips snap forward with force, and you cry out, your head falling back as he drives into you over and over. His cock hits deeper, deeper than anyone ever has, brushing your cervix with every thrust.

Stars explode behind your eyes.

He grabs your hips, shifting your angle, and suddenly he’s hitting that spot – that place inside you that makes you forget your own name. You moan, and he isn’t silent either. He grunts as he fucks into you, sweat beading at his temple, his hair sticking slightly to his forehead as he slams into you with brutal rhythm.

“You feel – fuck – you feel so good,” he groans.

His fingers find your clit again, rubbing in fast, messy circles, syncing with the snap of his hips.

“I’m gonna -” he gasps. “I’m gonna cum.”

You fall apart beneath him, crying out his name over and over. “Oh my god - ReinerReinerReiner -”

White-hot pleasure surges through you, stronger than before, your body spasming around him. He lets out a broken moan, thrusting deep one last time and staying there, pressed flush against you as he comes. You feel the twitch of his cock inside the condom, feel him holding himself together just before he collapses over you, trembling form the release.

The room is quiet, except for the sound of your breathing. His body is warm and heavy on top of you, but you’re too tired to notice the pressure of having a very heavy man above you. 

Eventually, he lifts his head and kisses your temple. He pulls out gently, careful with your oversensitive body, then slips off the condom and ties it before tossing it into the trash bin near your desk. He crawls back into the bed beside you and pulls you close. You curl into him, naked and flushed, cheek pressed to his chest, fingers tracing lazy circles over his ribs.

“I still want to take you on a date,” he says before kissing your hair.

You laugh like a flustered schoolgirl. “That’s fine by me.”

“How about we take a shower and go get something to eat?”

[bitchlessdino]

I have this in mind, maybe svt member x reader where they are classmates from college, they are close but not THAT close lol. Until one day they started talking about house prices and how the rent is so expensive, but still with the desire of living alone, so he (maybe hoshi or woozi) proposed that they should find a place together to split rent. It started as a joke, but then they found a really good place and decided to try to live together for at least one semester.

so yeah at first everything is great since both of them are always busy, so they dont really see each other that often around the house.

until it could be that they are sexually frustrated and start a friends with benefits relationship (but in secret, so their circle of friends dont know about it). However, reader always had a big crush on him, but never said anything. idk what else to say

Pairing: college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 5.9k tags: pwithplot, established friendship, roommate au, friends to fwb, pining, pervert!reader, pervert!soonyoung, mentions of alcohol, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, missionary, doggy, praise kink Summary: When it comes to the economy and needing a roof to live under, having a roommate is your best option, especially as any desperate college student. When arrangements are made with Soonyoung, a friend you admittedly have a visceral lust for, things take a turn one messy night. Making this arrangement more of an edible arrangement. author note: so i may have run wild since hoshi posted those thirst trap photos haha. im very proud of the header i made for this. this was something i planned on posting before my unprepared hiatus, and hopefully i'm still in spirits on continuing this. please anticipate more of me and remember that writers love interaction, criticism or not <333

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

“That’s funny, Soonyoung’s looking for a place too.”

You looked over at the man in question to see him mid-feast on a sandwich bigger than his face as it puffed his cheeks full like a common squirrel. “Why are you looking for a place? I thought you made plans with Seokmin?”

The man struggled to swallow down the larger-than-life bite, barely managing to do without scratching the back of his throat before answering. “His parents convinced him against it. I should’ve known he’d back out when he didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

“Do you know how to do your own laundry?”

“I know there are colors and whites, detergent and softener—I’d figure it out.”

“I’m hearing a no…”

“Youtube exists. How hard could it be? But yeah, I’m looking for a place.” He set his sandwich aside to lean in closer, washing down any remnants with a swig of his Jihoon’s stolen Coke Zero, who at the moment couldn’t be more distracted with Physics paper. “It’s not easy that’s for sure. A single bedroom is way too much on its own and anything bigger I can barely cover half of.”

“Here’s an idea,” Mingyu suggested like it wasn’t on his mind for the fifteen minutes you’ve been complaining about being essentially homeless, “Why don’t you guys figure something out together?”

“Really? Me and Soonyoung?”

Your counterpart couldn’t help the offense washing over his face. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know if you’d be a good roommate.”

“What makes you roommate of the year?”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each for what, a semester and a half, and I don’t know what your living habits are. I’ve basically lived alone all my life with my parents working all the time. How do I know you won’t push all the housework on me?”

Scoffing, his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “You’re looking at the flail youngest of two who did almost a decade of housework for a hundred dollar allowance for a week. I don’t waste Pinesol, I hand wash dishes, and I keep my 50 pairs of shoes neatly out of the doorway and in pristine condition.”

“You can do all that and not operate a washing machine?”

“The buttons and colors confuse me.”

“So,” Mingyu interrupted again, “How about it? Sounds like you guys a both a little desperate. The housing market isn’t getting any lower.”

“I guess you don’t sound all to bad to live with then,” You replied with a tinge of a tease.

“What do you bring to the table?” Soonyoung interjected.

“Discounts for food at my work, a Netflix account, a pack of scrub daddies, and a decent amount of disposable income for half an average month's rent and fun stuff if we ever get bored. Down?”

Soonyoung stroked his chin as if to think, but his head, the deal sounded as good as it can get. If he was being honest, he was desperate, but after the berating, he couldn’t let you know that. “Add in some salon-quality shampoos and conditioners and we have a deal.”

You groaned. “Fine, for a semester for now, but you’re getting laundry stuff and learning how to use the machines.”

You hadn’t expected to be apartment shopping with Soonyoung looking like a pair of newlyweds, but here you were doing exactly that. There wasn’t anything particular about him that bothered you, (except maybe the harboring attraction you had for him since freshman orientation that you blanketed over with over argumentative banter and an aloof attitude when he was around).

But as far as you knew, you were morning and night.  Sure, you’ve gotten along in social situations, but you knew how drastically different your lives were. When you aren’t working, you were a homebody and he’d bring bodies home. He lived differently than you did to put it plainly.

And perhaps the idea of waking up with him every morning possibly shirtless and/or naked frankly made you both terrified and aroused all at once.

The moment you shook his hand to agree, you were already feeling some regret, but hey, maybe that’ll actually do you some good. Maybe you’ll finally get over this school crush on this unattainably hot guy after seeing how disgusting he is leaving his underwear and socks in every corner of the place. It’s inevitable things can only go down from here, right? Right?

“A few ground rules should be in order.”

Soonyoung nodded, putting away the remainder of the edible arrangement gifted to you by your collective friends in the fridge. “Like what?”

“Chores should be switched off every week so we know how to handle all types at all times, but we do our own laundry. No exceptions. Dinner is a group effort. If we get takeout, always tell the other at least an hour in advance and costs are split. Groceries are bought biweekly with a set budget.”

“Strict, but ok. I’ll do my best to follow them. Anything else?”

You were reluctant to bring up this last one. You cleared you through, taking a second to properly form the words before letting them out. “If we have someone that we’re getting involved with, it’s either done at their place or in an empty apartment with plenty of notice.”

Soonyoung can’t help but bust out a wide and perfect grin, crossing his arms seeing the timid expression on your face. “Fine. I’ll make sure when I have sex with someone, it’s under those guidelines.”

“Ha, thanks,” You awkwardly respond, “I’ll abide the same.”

His eye narrowed at you dubiously. “Wait, you’ll actually get around?”

“Why are you doubting me?”

He chuckled, shrugging smooth broad shoulders through his black sleeveless tee. “You just don’t really seem about that. There’s nothing wrong with it, but—“

“You don’t know every detail of my intimate life so butt out.”

His arms rose up in defense, nodding along. “Alright, okay. If that’s all, I have a few rules of my own.”

“Okay. Have at it.”

He mused to himself for a few seconds. “Bathroom schedule: first come first serve.”

You nodded, easy enough.

“At a few hours of the day, the living room becomes an at-home gym when needed.”

Okay, that one had a little kick to it. “Alright.”

“And we have a safe word.”

You blinked back at him, heart pounding a little louder than it should, legs clenching as if they were being pried apart, and sweat burning the temple of your forehead with the unnecessarily dirty thoughts running through your mind. “A w-what?”

“A safe word,” he repeated as a matter of fact, “a word we can use when there’s conflict and something wrong and we just completely stop what we’re doing.” He grinned a little. “It’s not just for sex you know.”

You shoved him, earning his chuckle. “I know that, jerk. But fine, what do you suggest?”

“…Tiger.”

“How did I know that’s what you’d say?”

“Because we’re good friends.”

“How about ‘hamster’?”

He frowned. “No.”

“But look how effective that was.”

For the most part, things went smoothly. It helped that things got busy and tasks barely needed to get done with the exception of laundry. You saw each other more in your friend group gatherings than at home in your shared arrangement, and despite everyone knowing you live together, neither of you made it a point to make a big deal about it, even if everyone else does.

The countless times you had to fight Seokmin, Jeonghan, or Jihyo about the possibility of something developing between you and your new roommate romantically pained you with their inaccuracy. It seemed left and right that’s all everyone could talk about since it was arranged. It seemed as if there was nothing better up for discussion. Soonyoung dealt with it all the same, being constantly asked what kind of nefarious doings are being done behind closed doors that no one knows about. It always came as a disappointment when it was broken towards them that nothing was happening and that nothing ever will.

Even to you. Surprising enough.

If you learned anything from living with Soonyoung, it was harder than you expected it to be, especially with a still festering crush that is only developing into something almost tangibly heart-wrenching and stomach churning. It seemed to have taken a turn for the worse when Soonyoung started to take advantage of the home gym more due to the massive heatwave in town. 

The damn pull up bar.

You’ve only realized the time you’ve wasted after hearing the kettle whistle you put out apparently ten minutes ago. Your mind was too clouded by the flex of his biceps lifting his body in the air. Or the contracting and releasing of his shoulders that were lightly misted by perspiration. Or were too preoccupied with wanting to lick off the veins of the poor man’s lower abdomen. Or thinking about what those arms could do flinging you upside a—

“Oh, early class?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s a lot more traffic today, so I'm getting there earlier than usual.” 

His feet landed on the ground with a thud and he grabbed a towel to wipe over the sweat that was making his body glisten like glaze on a smooth buff donut. “I’m guessing you have no time for breakfast then?”

“Unfortunately,” you respond, quickly pouring your tea into your thermos before getting to your shoes, “I was gonna grab something at the Starbucks on campus after.”

“Here.” He tossed something from a box behind him and watched as you flimsily caught it from the front door.

“Oh.” A protein bar, a good one from your experience of raiding his side of the pantry. “Thanks.”

“And cancel all previous engagements. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

You squinted at him, “Why?”

“We’ll have something nice for once tonight,” he grinned, “be home at 8 tonight.”

Soonyoung’s plan for dinner was a free courtesy of Mingyu who found a nice little gig as a sous chef in a trendy place uptown. The whole circle celebrated together and you only got around to knowing after Soonyoung kept you updated on news knowing you’d be too busy to look at the giant groups chat you’re in. You should’ve been appreciative. That should’ve been your first instinct, not…entitlement. Not envious of him making eyes and flirting with the waitres. Not embarrassment for expecting something more from his brazen invite to dinner with you.

So, by then you’ve had a bit to drink. Okay, a lot to drink. Just enough to drink to have you stumbling on the center dance floor that garnered the attention of prying eyes. At that moment, nothing really mattered. You knew where lines lie, but lines eventually blur.

One second, you’re alone swaying to Britney Spears’ “toxic”, another second, Seungcheol’s crotch is up against your ass. It was a nice sentiment since you were definitely craving a bit of attention tonight, although you weren’t sure if you could look your friend in the eye again after that. Fortunately for you, it only got so far until a shapeless, but familiar, body pulled you away from the scene, forcibly putting you away in a bright yellow car. With your many failed protests, they managed to reach the footsteps of your building and finally reached for keys in their front pockets to open up your apartment.

“Hold still. Please…God, I am not sober enough for this.”

“Soonyoung….” You whined like a lost child.

He gripped you tighter by the arm to lock you in place, preventing you from falling. He was used to being taken care for and the grass was not greener on the other side. He has a lot of people he needs to apologize to. “Almost…okay, okay. I’m in. Go. Go shower and sober yourself up.”

You tugged him at the wrist, pulling him towards you. “Shower with me…”

He scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Go before I make you, and I really don’t wanna have to make you.”

“Fineee…”

Logic flew out the window tonight. Not paying it a second thought, you began stripping yourself of your clothes in the middle of the living room, from socks to immediately your shirt. Soonyoung’s eyes nearly shot out of his skull as he scrambled to cover you in your abandoned shirt before it almost hit the ground.

“Undress in the bathroom please.” Even in your intoxicated state, you could feel the tension of his muscles brush against your back, causing the heat to creep up on your skin.

You let yourself melt into him giggling, turning your head back to meet his cautious eyes. “Maybe you’d like to help with that.”

You can see the bit of shock in his eyes, fluttering back to something more composed once he internally reminded himself this was the ramblings of a drunk person. “You really don’t know what you're saying.” He then pushed you inside the restroom, holding the door by its knob, “Shower and brush your teeth. I’m not letting you out until I’m sure you’re done.”

“Soonyoung…”

“Please, just do it.”

Eventually, he finally convinced you to do as he asked and he hears the shower running, but a mere second later a thud follows. You busted out in a fit of pain, slipping on the already wet floor and immediately your roommate comes running in concerned. “What happened?”

He turned his head the second he processed your fallen body on the ground was bare naked. Shower water poured down on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and glistening your body like a wet dream. Your eyes lit up at him in a timid demure, barely covering your intimate parts with your arms and hands. He coughed dramatically, pinching himself to find restraint, and repeated his quarry of concern with avoidant eyes before you pointed out the obvious, “I fell.”

“Hold on to the rails, that’s what they’re for,” he groaned.

“Sorry.”

He sighed, slightly glancing. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head even when he wasn’t looking. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Good. Just be careful and tell me when you’re done.”

And you’re alone again.

You pulled yourself up from your pathetic state and then the warm water run through your features, letting out a loud sigh. You finished up the best you could, ridding yourself of a night full of grime. Grabbing a towel on the rack, you wrapped it around your damp nude before letting Soonyoung know from the other side of the door. He finally let you free from his handmade prison before watching you go scurry to your bedroom in a concoction of drunken embarrassment.

You muttered to yourself scoldings for letting something like that happen, clenching your legs together in bed the moment you hear his round of shower hit the tiles through the thin walls. A groan unexpectedly sounds off abundantly clear, and your shameless thoughts take action while he’s preoccupied. 

Still naked, you let the towel fall to the ground and you crawl under the sheets of your bed, not caring in the slightest about your hair getting your pillows wet. Your hands slowly trail down to your chest, ghosting over your skin until the pads of your fingers finally found what’s between your legs. You moaned at your self-discovery. Filming your fingers with your filthy arousal, a smile derived from self-indulgence shaped on your face. There you let your fingers slide between your folds and you shudder.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung couldn’t get your image out of his head. The glimpse alone was enough to make him think of you in compromising positions. Lips around his angry stiff cock, your tongue sliding against the veins of his shaft. He’d then hear the wet suction, the vibrations of your mouth humming around his skin, moaning his name like the perfect dessert you were. He groaned again to himself, pressing his length against his abdomen, not thinking you’d hear.

But you do. In fact, it’s so coherent, it makes you wet enough seep past your thighs, trailing down your legs. Your fingers plunged in you deeper while the palm of your hand rubbed against the shape of your clit. Your hips heave up from the mattress, pressing deeper into your palm as the image of Soonyoung’s face stayed a constant in your intoxicated head.

Soonyoung could hear your moans through it all, even if you didn’t think they did, and you only further fed his imagination. He braced against the wall behind him, thrusting into his fist with gritted teeth. The squeeze he had on his girth was merciless and all he had to rid of his overwhelming sin. In his head, you batted your pretty eyes back him, trailing your hands over his body, mouth gaping that looked ready to be filled one way or another. He threw his head back, whispering your name softly. “Oh, baby…you look so good swallowing my cock.”

You felt tears soak your eyes, swallowing a desperate breath.“Mmh, fuck…just like that please…”

“Gonna fuck your pretty pussy…” His thrusts roughly pulled himself at his base, clenching the life around it.

“You’re so deep, fuck, you feel so good—“

“You’re gonna make me cum—“

“Shit, I’m gonna cum—“

“Shit—“

“Shit—“

Simultaneously, you both were freed of your tension, a sudden release of breath escaping your lungs. The spilled cum fell at Soonyoung’s feet, melting in the heat of the water before it followed down the drain, while you fell slumped in bed in your own filth. You lazily reached out for your towel to clean the rest of the mess, tore away your dirty sheets, and settled into a tired slumber.

Soonyoung, overwashed with shame, hung his head down as he quietly cursed to himself. He shut off the shower head and reached for his towel. He finally concludes this evening, having taken a load off. There wasn’t much left on his mind that night, only teh thought of wanting it to be over.

The morning comes sooner than you realize and you find yourself at the mercy of a shirtless Soonyoung like most mornings, except this time he wasn’t doing pull-ups. Instead, he walked to you, a vigor to his stride and he decidedly met your eyes, while you were still focused on his body.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Soonyoung—“

“Should I just give you what you want? Should I fuck the shit out of you until all I can hear is my name?”

An answer was caught in the tightness of your throat when he lifted you off the ground and instinctively made you wrap your legs around his bare torso. The heat of his body is all you could focus on until he planted you flat on your kitchen counter, parting your legs to reveal the sudden bareness beneath your oversized t-shirt.

He licked his lip, tensing up his abdomen excitedly before he found home between your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his hair, crying out in soft breaths, and pulling his head back to meet his pretty eyes glossed over with lust. 

He mumbled into your skin, specifically one thing. And he said it over again and over again. Unable to make out what he says, you asked him to repeat it more clearly. It was then he rose up to the surface, a sticky sweet sheen of your arousal in his lips before he drew them close to your ear. His breath fanned your skin, shivers running down your spine, and finally what he says makes sense.

“Wake up.”

Your eyes ripped open like the ground beneath you should’ve. You ran a hand over your face, groaning at your own dismay. “What the actual fuck…”

It took a minute for you to pull yourself out of bed, groggy and with a raging headache to blow over throughout the day, only to be met with nearly an identical circumstance you met in your dream. Your roommate’s bare back stared back at you as brightly as the morning sun. You shrunk back at the reminder of your dream, walking on eggshells towards him to reach the fridge. “Morning.”

Soonyoung coughed on his water recognizing your presence, timidly greeting you back.

“Plans today?” You asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, classes in the afternoon.”

The silence couldn’t be more deafening.

“You.”

“Yeah, me too. Will be back at home at 9 after work.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

And soon you parted, embarrassed that encountered ever happened.

The rest of the day, there was much of seeing each other like most days, but this particular instance felt there was more of a reason to it. Even when it came around to your mutually available time at lunch, you made the extra effort not to run into him. How could you?

After making a pass on him and making the half-conscious decision of touching yourself to him while he was in the shower?

You’d be insane to go about things as if they were normal. They weren’t. 

When you came home that night, he was home like he always was, yet nowhere in sight. You knew he was home when you noticed his bike locked up where it normally was and shoes placed at the front of the door. You were tempted to call out his name but refrained when you reminded yourself you were yet ready for that confrontation yet.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter as  Soonyoung seemed to be already walking out of his room, shocked to see you actually home despite it being the time you said you’d be home by. “Hey…”

“Hey.” You let your stuff down before heading to the kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”

“Uh, yeah. I got pizza with a few Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Cool. I’m just gonna make myself something real quick.”

“Alright.”

“Did you need something?”

“Hmm?”

You pointed to his door. “You came out of your room.”

“Right,” he quickly scanned the floor before claiming nearly finished bottle of water on the couch's corner table. “W-water. I got thirsty.”

Obviously, it was an excuse, but you weren’t going to point it out with your lack of backbone. “Okay, well, I’m out here if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Before he retreated back to the room, a halt was squeezed out of your throat, catching him in his eager steps. He turned to you with unfocused eyes, hard swallowing in an attempt to calm himself down. “What is it?”

“I need to get this off my chest. Yesterday…I’m really sorry for everything yesterday.”

He sighed. That’s what all that was? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Also. Shit, um. I don’t know why I’m saying this because it's not like it matters. Well, it does a little bit. It could totally come off wr—“

“Hey,” he interrupted, “I doubt it’s as big a deal as your making it out to be, and I’m okay with not knowing.”

“But you should know actually.” You steadily approached him, letting out an exaggerated exhale. “Yesterday, you were showering and I don’t know what got over me. Well, I was drunk, so I guess there was that bit. Anyway, I heard you, you know, and I guess I—“

“Touched yourself when I was in the shower?”

You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. “Okay, we’re getting right into it, but yeah. It just felt weird not telling you, I just—“

“You knew I was masturbating?”

“Well, yeah? It was obvious if I’m being honest. Not the point. I invaded your privacy and indulged in it. I don’t know, maybe it’s been a while since…I just want to apologize.”

“For what, overhearing me whack myself off,” he took a step closer, eyes a lot like your dream meeting yours, “or for cumming to the thought of me?”

You breathed out through your nose. In and out. Your eyes for the life of you could not stay steady. “B-both?”

“If we’re being honest here, I should come clean too, shouldn’t I?”

Your hand steadied on the couch, almost letting the force of gravity pull you down along with your sanity, but tried maintaining eye contact as if that would change the dynamic even a little bit. “About what?”

Soonyoung finally found the humor in the situation to smile, one that caused the stagger in your step. “About how your face would come up when I touched myself in the shower.”

“Soonyoung—“

“You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you for doing the same thing I did. I don’t regret it because that was the best orgasm I’ve had in mon—“

You silenced his lips with your own, launching you into him until all you felt was the heat of his furnace of a body. His hands claimed the small of your back before pressing your curves into his hollows. He received your lips feverishly, moving against you as if in heated debate, and crashed your body into the furniture closest to you. 

“Didn’t know you were this eager,” he mumbled, “you should've told me.”

Your hand gripped his hair, your teeth taking his bottom lip between and pulling, emitting illicit whines that filled your stomach with warmth. Your leg propped to his side, embracing him hungrily there wasn’t even space to breathe. His hips knocked back into you, his bulge grinding against your clothed heat as he arched you over the back of the couch.

“You’re a bit mean. I like that.” He giggled.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“May I remind you, you kissed me.”

“And I can back out right this second.”

“Oh, but we can’t have that,” he utilized his upper strength to lift you off the ground looped tightly around his torso, a gasp leaving your lips. You reunite with his eyes that are now leveled with yours. You’ve looked into them before but it shocked you with how dark they are, how earnest they look. “You see it, don't you? How much I want you? I see it in your eyes too.”

“T-this a tactic you use on all people you sleep with?”

He shook his head. “Just you, and only because I really want you.”

Your hand planted against his cheek, the curve of your palm hugging his jaw. His breath hitches from the mere tenderness in your eyes. His body has ever only told him he wanted you carnally and raw, but that gaze. If he could just bottle that gaze and show off like a trophy.

Your hand crawled over to the nape of his neck, there your digits ran up his hair, pushing him innately close to you, and you whispered cautiously, “We can never tell the others.”

“I’ll take this to my grave if it’s what you want.”

You nodded. “Good boy.”

He transported you to his room, dropping you on his mattress with him to follow. Your lips stay glued together a perfect mold, tongue clashing in a union that you’ve only even dreamt of having. Soonyoung only briefly pulled away to reveal his torso. He was firm, flushed to the touch, and heaving under the heat of your palm.

You gasped as he pressed his body against your touch, smiling against your skin as he asked if you liked what you were seeing. All you could do was nod, somehow lost in the trance that you never wanted to escape. His mouth took your neck, roaming starved as his hands undressed you down to your underwear.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He slipped you out from your sleeves and made skin contact. Chest to chest, waist to waist, hips to hips. You sense his want through touch alone and for once being wrong felt so incredibly right. What a relief to know, he felt what you did. “I never wanted someone this badly before.”

“Soonyoung…”

He nipped your neck, teeth scratching against your skin. “You say my name like that, I’ll have no choice but to ruin you. Be careful around me. Or don’t. I’d show you a good time either way.”

“You’re—mmp—such a…ah—s-sweet talker.” You could hardly talk back. He made love to your skin as if he’d done it before, touching every pressure of your body like a skilled lover, both attentively yet without remorse.

“I’m only saying what I’ve been thinking. Like how desperate I am to feel myself between your thighs.” He tugged down your underwear to your feet and let the fall to the ground, allowing your legs to hook around him. “Or how your lips taste like caramel coffee, the candy you eat every time you need a ‘pick me up.’”

“You pay attention to that?” You asked, fiddling over the button of his pants.

“I don’t make an effort to, I just do.” He found your hands, aiding you in your efforts, soon you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He held your gaze still, guiding your hand over his hard cock, taking from the base up to the shaft. You swallowed memorizing his shape, his length, his weight. There was so much you wanted to be able to share with this part of him alone. “Now it’s your turn to pay attention to me.”

Your lips stretched over your cheeks. “What makes you think I don’t?” 

You trace over something particular with your other hand, something that bulges at you even with his pants on. You lifted yourself to sit up, folding your calves behind your thighs. Stroking his length with one hand, you admire your veins leading down his lap with the other. “I’ll have you know, my patience is admirable. It took a lot within me to blatantly ignore these pretty veins you have on your stomach.”

“Someone’s never called them that before,” he chuckled, “no one’s even acknowledged them before.”

“I guess no one’s been privileged enough to see them as often as I do. Lucky me.” You thumbed over the blue, scrapping over its stroke as you lowered your head and your lips wrapped around the head. You covered his underside, tugging  your lips around him, and watching his jaw drop lower when you began covering more of his length.

“I’m the lucky one,” he acknowledged, his hand dropping to the crown of your head before caressing the length of your hair. “You should see how good you look sucking my dick right now. I’m never gonna see this image without wanting to cum on the spot.”

You steadied yourself at his hips, tongue gliding over the underside, and you hugged your cheeks tighter around his girth. Eyes fluttered back at him, and you wretched to take more of him, already felt him hit the back of your throat. When you heard him moan, it fed you more encouragement, giving your best efforts to fit all of him. You coughed at the tightness in your throat but remained resilient. The vicious substance of your saliva coated him from tip to base as your hand stroked him repeatedly, pushing him deeper into you until your vision grew weary. 

Soonyoung told you to take it slow, stroking the back of your head with a gentle hand. You inhaled him for as long as you could, the sounds of your efforts growing dim the deeper he made it past your mouth. Ultimately, tears ran down your cheeks, oxygen cut from your airways, and you felt no choice but to pull him out, resting his cock between your fingertips as you gasped for breath.

That breath was quickly stolen when Soonyoung dived in to claim it, his body caging yours. His weight against yours was comforting, enticing, addicting. He moaned your name sweetly like a song, and it filled your stomach with embers of desire. “You’re so hot…I’d make you do that again if I wasn’t worried about killing you.”

You pathetically scoffed in an attempt to cover up discomfort. “That? Pff, I’m fine.”

He grinned, kissing you long and deep. “You’re so cute when you lie. I’ll make sure to return the favor now.”

Pulling at your thighs, he dragged them towards him, barely touched your eager heat, and his twitch urging you to pull him close. He leaned over somewhere behind you to tear open a condom, rolling it over himself. As he drew closer, so did you, feeling the inviting head of his cock glide over your wet cunt, you trembled in thought. Soonyoung, just—

“Put it in me.”

“Now, now. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled cheekily.

“Soonyoung,” You whined.

Your impatience is rewarded when he plunged himself in slowly, but completely, embracing the stretch of your walls as he filled you out. “So…needy...”

His initial thrust is deep, strong, and then he landed another, quickly adjusting to the plush of your pussy. You held your thighs back to your chest, and spread your legs wide for him. Your pretty lips weren’t shy with praising him, asking him for more of his pretty cock, and earning just as you ask. “You’re mind-numbing, shit…what a good fucking pussy…”

“Your cock’s so g-good in me…you feel so good inside me, Soonyoung…”

“Fuck, say my name like that again.”

He flipped you on your stomach, pressing his fingers into your as he found his pace from behind you, ramming into you until your cunt has tasted every inch of his cock. You gasped as his hand maneuvered you to push back against him, like a toy to be played with he used every bit of you, your energy, your sexuality, and he embraced it. You felt amazing. 

“Soonyoung, I’m—ah—I’m gonna cum.”

“You’re gonna cum around my cock? Hmm? Is that it? My cock fucking you that good?”

You bit into your lips nodding, the urge to respond before the wave of arousal crashed into you. You were clenching your stomach as his name came in tidal waves, grinding towards him to prologue the high. Loudly, you cursed, balling the sheets underneath you into fists. 

Soonyoung nodded proudly, the shaky view of your body trembling beneath him fuels his ego and it’s not long before he orgasms, filling the condom until it nearly burst. He pulled out of you finally, quickly discarding the trash before he joined you in bed, hugging your fatigued body to his side and there was silence. Only silence.

And breathing. Mainly Soonyoung’s. And that went on for a good fifteen minutes until someone spoke again.

“I’m glad I waited for that.”

You looked up at your roommate curiously, the smile on his face felt warmer every time you saw it. “What was that?”

He met your gaze, hand softly moving over your hair. “I feel like I’ve gotten closer to you. I always wanted that.”

“Really?”

He nodded, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Who knew sex would make us closer friends?”

Your body ran cold, in the distance you could hear the shattering of glass far off from reality. You stayed frozen under his touch as he embraced you closer to his naked body, hooking his chin over your neck. “We should do this again. I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.”

That’s what you were scared of. Getting used to this. To this arrangement. To the sensation of his cock inside you. To the sense that it’d never be more than you hoped it would be. You’d never have Soonyoung be yours, but you knew somehow you’d always be his.

[throwawayjk4753]

The winner from the last poll was mid-length Pwithplot office romance; I started drafting it! My next question is: What position do you guys prefer to see Edward in? Again, all writing will be with male reader. Did not include submissive, dominant or switch b/c I felt that would make it a little confusing…but if you have a preference for that, or If you have any specific ideas for positions/sexual scenarios/kinks for any of the fanfiction prompts, feel free to comment or send an ask :).

[chicken-wayng]

Skye and Wayng are writing fanfiction again!!!

Skye and I are finally updating the fics we started in high school. We both work and have very busy lives so it will be slow updating, but it is finally being worked on again. We decided to start with New Games, because even though we're not in a marvel hyperfixation we have lots of ideas for it. That being said we're still taking recommendations for it. It will be entirely rewritten, but the main plot and bones are going to stay. For those of you that have stuck around since 2018 we want to say thank you, and if you're not interested in the updated version we preserved the original text in the first chapter.

This is a smutlet, or pWITHplot where in after the snap Peter Parker, Stephen Strange, and Tony Stark are captured by the Grandmaster and made to compete in his New Games. The new games in question? Sex.

(This is A/B/O, we decided that even though we've both outgrown it we would like to challenge ourselves and stay as true as possible to our original notes.)

[barleyo]

Gag on it. Montgomery Gator x Fem! Reader (smut)

You were at the Pizzaplex for a normal enough reason, it was your cousin’s birthday and you couldn’t not show up on her big day. After all the festivities were done, you had to go to the restroom, the problem being that you didn’t tell anyone where you were going.

After attending to your bathroom business, you tried unlocking the door, but it was jammed. You could’ve easily crawled through the bottom, if the doors didn’t reach the floor entirely. Unfortunately, the situation was the same with the top of the door. You tried to kick down the door, bang on it, and scream for help, but none of that worked. Eventually, you just accepted your fate and cried. Your sobbed yourself to sleep while on the dirty floor of a pizza place/ arcade/ raceway/ golf court bathroom. Pretty pathetic, but who am I to judge?

You woke up long after. You didn’t have a watch on you and your phone was still on the table in the dining area, but you knew it was passed closing time. You cursed your luck and everything that has happened up until that point. That is until you noticed an open vent beside the toilet. You quickly climbed through it and hoped it would lead you somewhere other than that damn bathroom. Luckily it did. It lead you to the entrance of Monty’s Gator Golf, which was coincidentally your favorite place there. You debated on wether or not you should enter, and ultimately decided ‘fuck it, why not?’

After venturing into Monty’s Gator Golf you saw said reptile sitting on the catwalk. Suddenly, becoming hyper aware of your surroundings, you decided stay quiet; sticking to the walls as to not be caught by him. God only knows what would happen if he caught you. Maybe torture? Would he attack you? Or lord forbid, trap you and keep you as a play thing? You weren’t willing to risk any of those outcomes, so staying silent was your only option.

You managed to get close to the to the walkway before disaster struck. You had sneezed. How could you possibly be so unlucky? You instantly knew you were completely and utterly screwed, but hearing Monty turn around to face you was the icing on the cake of misfortune.

He leaped down from his platform with a malicious look on his face, walking towards you with animalistic prowess.

“Well, well, well,” he started, “what do we have here? A troublemaker?”

You were too shocked to speak, let alone move. All you could do is stand there as he moved closer to your face, lifting your chin up with a clawed hand.

“Answer me, now. I don’t have time to waste,” he snarled out, slightly digging his nails into your cheek.

Collecting any courage you had left in you, you quickly replied with, “I got trapped in here, I got locked in a bathroom stall.”

“Ain’t that a shame, Sha? Maybe I could be of assistance.”

You couldn’t believe it, was he really offering to help you escape? No, there must be a catch, there always is.

“Well,” he said, “at a certain price, that is.”

All remnants of relief left you face. Anxiety swelled in your chest, what could he want?

“Do you want an explanation or are you gonna sit there with a dumb expression on your face?” he snapped after releasing your face from his hands.

You responded, in a hurt tone, “What..what do I need to do to leave?”

“Oh, don’t act all sad now, ugh. It’s nothing too big, just a little favor,” he began, “here, I’ll show you.”

He picked you up roughly, carrying you to a couch in back room. Montgomery placed you on the floor, forcing you on your knees, and sat on the cushion in front of you. He then clicked a panel near his groin, causing his cock to spring out only seconds later. It was nothing like you’d ever seen before, it looked almost like a tentacle.

“You’re a big girl, aren’t you? You know what I want, but good ol’ Monty has one special rule for you, mkay?” He said dryly.

In fear of him harming you, you nodded slowly. You looked up at him, his bubblegum colored iris staring deeply into yours. The eye contact mixed with the serious expression on his face was too much, your panties started to dampen from arousal. He could tell: he could see it in your face.

“If you take my dick out of your mouth for any reason, I’ll kill you, you hear? I don’t care if you’re choking, crying, or puking. Don’t you dare stop. Now get to work, doll.” He growled while spreading his legs.

You did as he said, leaning forward in order reach him. You couldn’t believe the fact that this was actually happening, or that you were enjoying it. You started slow, knowing that any mistake would be fatal. Slowly bobbing your head up and down, you could hear his hushed moans leak out.

“Don’t stop now, Sweetness, you’re getting the hang of it,” he whispered out.

Hearing this praise sparked something inside of you. You quickened your pace, paying no attention to the tears that soon pricked your eyes or to Monty’s stunned look. This look rapidly disappeared and was replaced with pure bliss.

“You’re doing so well, please, please don’t stop,” Monty slightly begged, reveling in the pleasure you were giving him.

You knew no matter how much his words excited you, you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. You needed to finish him off, and soon. You began deepthroating his twitching cock, praying that that his seed would shoot out instantly. The retching soon set in, but he didn’t care.

“You know better than to stop, don’t you, girl?”

The tears that threatened to spill earlier came crashing out.

“That’s right, baby. Gag on it.” He roared.

He grabbed the back of your head and pushed it down, forcing you to take his full length. Just when you were about to pull away he released into your throat. Ribbons of his sperm were shot down your throat, and you didn’t dare let it come back up.

Monty let go of your head and lifted your face to his level, nearly lifting you off the ground.

“Such a good girl for me. Come here, I’ll take you to the exits. It’s time they open now.”

He lifted you up bridal style, wiping the mixture of his cum, spit, and tears away from your chin. After a few minutes, you reached the gates to see that they were in fact open. You turned to Montgomery to say goodbye, only to have him lick you the second you tried to.

“Make sure you come back to see me, baby. I must warn you though, next time I won’t be nearly as gentle.” He whispered into your ear.

[petalsofelrondir]

Dishonour on me, dishonour on my family, dishonour on my cow

Fic Summary: Uchiha Mori isn't liked by the Uchiha clan but he doesn't mind as long as Tajima-sama is kind to him. (Uchiha Tajima/Original Male Character)

note that Mori is a regular OC not an SI, he is my favourite OC to torture so here we go

PWithPlot because I tried to give Mori some backstory to make it idk cuter, the fun bits aren’t up yet but I have it written I just need to edit some bits. My first fic in Naruto and I do this how will i ever live with myself, but in my defense I didn’t want to study or do work so hard that it forced me to get over my 3 year writers block so yay

[bitchlessdino]

mood rings, drive thru theaters, and the latest issue of tiger beat (m)

Pairing: chan x college student!reader (afab) Genre: angst, smut, fluff Word count: 6.9k tags: SVTHUB COLLAB, set in the 70s, plot twist with dark ending (possibly triggering to some), pwithplot, tutor!reader, busty!reader, pining, brief mention of religion, mention of recreational drugs, mention of death, mention of medicine and medical practice, mention of tragedy (car crash), breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, couch sex, handjob cream pies, dirty talk. Summary: when you fall in love, it can feel like you’ll be with that person forever, that there isn’t another being in the world you rather be with. This case is just as heavy in your youth, tutoring a boy you’ve only ever walked circles around, while you wear a mood ring from his parents souvenir shop so you could feel closer to him. When it happens, you don’t expect things to crash harder than the way they do. author note: she's here!!! i might reedit later but i wanted to get this out before i changed my mind about the plot again so enjoy and check out the rest of the collab!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

Falling in love in the seventies wasn’t easy. You didn’t have mobile phones or text messaging, hell, you were lucky if you had email. Most people didn’t. That’s what made it so much harder to be a person stricken in love. All you had was paper, a pen, and the possibility of hearing something through your home landline.

Every day you would wait for the confirmation call he’d be coming. He was one of the polite ones. You were grateful to have formally met him through the tutoring program held in college and you look forward to that phone call and the weekly meetings every Tuesday and Wednesday to go over organic chemistry. Somewhere in that mix, you had hoped to find your own chemistry with him despite knowing how selfish that’d be.

You’d never admit it loud but you had the classic high school pining back when you attended the same classes in the same town. He was a sweetheart then just like he was a sweetheart now and you longed for him like any other teenager. He had you doodling combinations of your names together in a worn out notebook and cherishing an item you secretly associated with only him. Yours was a mood ring.

In the summer of 74’, a new souvenir shop had just opened around the block after countless failed businesses by previous owners. This shop was owned by the Lees, a cute mom-and-dad duo that was sweeter than any cream-filled Twinkee. There was not a thing intimidating about them. They seemed like good people. What you weren’t ready for was their son working the register that day.

What was it about a man in wide leg jeans and a tight fitted shirt that made you want to physically fall to your knees?

At the time, he was wiping a glass candy tray rather meticulously. He has only greeted whoever came in without looking, too focused on getting every dust particle out of every crevice, so he didn’t notice how you found him to be the most interesting sight you’ve seen.

His smile when seeing the swell job he’s done was priceless compared to every piece of merchandise in the store. If there was a chance you could bottle up and take it away for keeps, you would. You would tell the local newspaper this store would be a new world wonder just from this boy alone. 

You had to pinch yourself to finally pull your eyes away from him, scanning for something, anything, interesting enough to purchase and ring it up with him. Finally, your eyes land on something colorful, ever-changing, and wearable.

“Will that be all for today?”

You nodded, holding back a wide grin as you watched him run through your purchase. His smile never faltered in front of you, and for some reason, it made you feel special, despite the assumption he probably smiled in front of anyone who came in. Still, it made an impression.

“That’ll be a dollar please and since you’re a new customer,” he picked something from a box behind the counter, “a pack of now and laters for the road. You can have one now and another later. They’re great.”

God, he’s cute.

You mused at him, accepting the ring and freebie after paying him up front. “Thank you.”

“Have a great day. Catch you on the flip side!”

You waved back at him on your exit, immediately regretting not staying longer to chat. As expected, your mind went blank the second he spoke to you, and the moment you were alone, you slid on the mood ring on your ring finger and focused all of your energy on thinking about the questions you could’ve asked. For him, that was like any interaction, but for you, it’ll be a core memory. 

It was throughout the years you realized that you’d be attending the same high school, sharing the same senior year, experiencing the same last year festivities, but despite the many opportunities, you never had an encounter like that with him again. You’d pass by that souvenir shop countless times, glancing at him while he worked every shift, but cowardly never approached him again. Not with the lack of trying, of course, your adolescent self was too busy to find a way to make him fall in love with you according to whatever you read in Tiger Beat.

You remember flipping through it, back and forth, momentarily distracted by the boyish charm of David Cassidy, and then going back to reread it in case you missed something. This had been your adolescent bible to understand whatever was on trend because only God knew you needed it. Somedays, you’d pretend you were talking with him through your magazine posters. Now that was a face deserving to be in magazines.

“You’re still thinking about that boy? Just talk to him already.”

Even your closest friend, Stacey, couldn't get your head out of the clouds. 

You adamantly shook your head, the magazine clung to your chest. “No, absolutely not. Me talking to him wouldn’t even happen in my dreams. In fact, I’d probably have to pay admission to see him in my dreams.”

She rolled her eyes, letting you get back to whatever exactly you were doing. “Okay, drama queen. We get it. You like a boy.”

She was used to this at that point and it’d be all the same. You never outgrew it entering colleges either, the same one he happened to attend, which you couldn’t have been more stoked to find out. “He’s not just any boy, Stacey. he’s the boy. He’s so far out. I can’t even fathom his existence.”

You were in fact exaggerating, but at the ripe age of 18 all of it felt sincere and you truly did believe it was all true.

And to think you hadn’t formally met him yet until you started participating as a tutor in a peer help program at your University. You didn’t expect much of it, only thinking of collecting some community hours and hopefully maintaining a good reputation with your professors and there he was, like fate. There he should, hair coifed in intentional pristine, a loosely buttoned vibrant green shirt, and familiar tightly fitted pants that flared from the bottom. 

Your breathing seized, stunned by the sheer fact you have stood this close to him since the first time your eyes laid on him. When he turned to you, he didn’t seem to notice your reluctance to walk closer as he strode confidently in your direction. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Lee Chan. You're my tutor, right?”

Your heart sounded like a metronome at the highest speed at this point, taking your breathing in little by little, timidly returning him with your own introduction. Safe to say, you were both scared out of your mind, yet excited about this turn of events. Though, if you thought about it too hard, you had the chance of rendering tutorship useless and then it’s farewell to Chan.

That’s when you made the executive decision to omit him from your head during these sessions and treat him like any other peer needing help, as you initially intended with anyone you were assigned. If you wanted to continue these sessions and help out Chan, you needed to do more than think about what your future looked like together with 2.5 kids and a big picket fence.

You picked up a polite smile and settled in at a table, flipping a textbook to the first chapter of the course. Fortunately, he followed just as any other person struggling in chemistry and attempted to keep up with the lesson plan. As expected, you’d stumble over many of your teachings, forgetting some of the information yourself and having to refer to the book due to the blinding glow of your student, but as time passed, things eventually were more tolerable.

It was a few months later found an easier medium of being infatuated with the young man but helpful enough to pass the assignments in the above-average percentage. He just happened to be a good student that required more patience. Somewhat, it made you warm to learn that about him, including the fact he was good at listening, or how his eyes lit up picking up a lesson and recalling from memory. However, you kept this situation mostly professional, avoiding social interactions that would take away from your role. That was until Chan found comfort in spending time with you, having a sense of gratitude much grander than anyone teaching him Aldol reactions or valence electrons.

You could feel his soft gaze as you outlined something on his study sheet, emphasizing its importance since it’s appearing in the final he’d be taking eventually. If this were you back in the days of learning his name for the first time and thinking about him every waking second, you’d faint right about now. You’d be lying right now if you said you didn’t feel dizzy from the heat of his presence, but as you have been for the time spent together in the library, you’ve trained yourself to ignore it while mastering to subdue your intrusive thoughts.

Chan somehow found a way around that.

“Oh, your ring. Looks like the one in my parents' shop.”

You momentarily glanced back at the trinket before zone backing into today’s lesson, awkwardly chuckling to yourself. “Oh. Ha ha, that’s because it is.”

His eyes lit up the way they do, a cartoonish gleam in his eyes. “Really? I think I’d remember seeing you.”

“It was once a really long time ago.”

“Well, you should visit again. I can give you a good discount. We just got a big shipment of pop rocks.”

“Okay, sure.” You smiled, internally giggling at the thought of Chan entertaining himself with explosive candy and sharing it with you like the coolest treasure. “Alright. Organic compounds—“

“We really met before?” He interrupted.

“It really was so long ago. I’d be surprised if you did remember.”

“Well, I feel bad. I feel like there’s time it should be making up.”

You waved it off, not minding the now teary expression of guilt on his face. “It’s fine, Chan.”

“How about we go and watch a movie? I think the drive thru is replaying ‘The Godfather’. You should come with me.”

“Really? I don’t know.”

“Come on, consider it a thanks. You don’t even get paid for all the time you’ve spent teaching me.”

“No, but I get community hours. Speaking of teaching.” He placed his hand over yours, cuffing off the words caught in your throat. You find yourself helpless at the sweat pleas of Chan who works the cute angle all too well as he scooted closer to you. “I don’t think I can rest knowing I haven’t found a way to thank you. You’ve been tutoring me for 4 months. The least I can do is take you out.”

You’re a bit stunned, your leg already shaking in nerves as you never expected such a proposal to easily leave his lips and for you nonetheless. You exhaled, mustering the courage to meet his eyes before nothing, pressing your lips to discourage an all too gleeful smile. “Fine. We’ll watch ‘The Godfather’.”

He let you go, beaming, and tracking his pencil tracking over his notebook filled with chicken scratch that was comprehensible to him. “Good, I can pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated before gluing his eyes back on the textbook, a noticeable hue of peak creeping up the back of his neck. “So, organic compounds...”

This arrangement was all you could think about until the day of, reading and rereading your magazines for possible outfit ideas, dating tips, and anything with the potential of making the best of this nerve-wracking situation.

On the day of, you got in your best get up just in time for the meetup. Anxiously, you turned your mood ring around your finger as you waited by the door, contemplating to yourself if what you chose was the right course of action. When the knock came, you came swinging the door open and pinched yourself from swooning seeing him in casual attire, including jeans that hugged his hips just right.

Chan, on the other hand, didn’t hide his emotions. Bright and animated, you grew hot under his watch, fiddling with the mood ring now on your middle finger and seeing it glare back a yellowish orange, indicating how nervous you really were. He took cautious steps towards you, mouth falling in awe, and he tugged at his band tee, which now felt lackluster compared to what his eyes were now seeing. “You look really good. I feel underdressed.”

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head and stepping down from the porch. “I just threw something on.”

“Well,” he offered an elbow, “shall we?”

You accepted his offer and hooked it through, hiding your elation. “Of course.”

He escorted you to the car and guided you to the passenger seat before closing the door, allowing you a moment to swallow the spaciousness of his station wagon before heading off to the theater. 

Cars beside cars, people neither mingling, making out, or taking advantage of the concession stands with 25-cent popcorn and pop. The sun was in the process of setting before it became a violet hue and eventually pitch black, perfect for movies. You got out of the car and smoothed out the wrinkles of your outfit, taking another deep breath.

You only had a fleeting second seeing him come out from the driver's seat, a smile settling on his face for what felt like you and only you.

Then came the hoard. Voices calling out Chan’s name, boys and girls his age gathered around him, offering his gregarious greetings and rowdy conversation. They hounded him with hugs, not minding you who stood off from the side behind the cat. Your expression dropped, starting from your smile before spreading over your body language. Chan, remembering your existence, tugged you from the hood and brought you to his side. He briefly introduced you as his tutor, and you did your best to greet them back just as politely.

They nodded at you, sly faces towards Chan as if you wouldn’t notice, and then came their bombarding again, only this time in your presence. You kept up the calm facade, only laughing when necessary before turning to the person who brought you here. “Nice to meet you all. Hey, Chan. I’m gonna get some snacks.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

You didn’t let the disappointment show on your face as you walked away but let it fall free as your back was towards the group. You hear their teasing and playful banter, questioning if you’re really just his tutor and Chan confirming, leaving no implication for anything else. You crossed your arms in embarrassment, already regretting letting this situation occur, imagining the worst scenarios to come.

You quietly asked for popcorn and a grape pop, greeted with your refreshments a few moments later, along with a box of raisinets. Your lips parted in confusion. “Oh, I didn’t order these.”

“On the house,” the guy winked, leaning over the counter a little too close for comfort, “a secret promotion for cuties like yourself.”

“Ah,” you gave him a tight-lipped grin, visibly distancing yourself, “thanks.”

“You know, I can always sneak away from my post for little liplock in—“

“Hey, you doing alright? I was worried about you.” You didn’t have to look to know. His body came crashing into yours. An arm slung over your shoulder, an action almost as natural as breathing. “Do you have enough?”

Your eyes flickered toward Chan who came to your rescue, nodding curtly. “Huh? Y-yeah.”

Chan met the seller's eyes before accepting your purchase for you, handing you over only the popcorn. You stared at the box of raisinets before he tugged you away from the stand.

“I did good, right? I’ve been told that guy’s a creep. I didn’t know he worked here.” His whisper sent chills through your body, yet burned your ears. You could feel the fanning of his breath, tickling your skin and raising every hair in your body.

“Me neither.”

“He’s not a good guy. You see him around, walk in the other direction ok?”

You nodded, taking his advice into serious thought. “Thanks, Chan.”

When it’s clear you’re out of sight, he parted from you, keeping his hands down his pockets, visibly apologetic. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that. He just won’t let it go unless he finds out you have a boyfriend or something.”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“Let’s get back to the others, hmm?”

You spent most of the night with Chan and his friends. Some laughed at how cheesy the movie was or actually scared of what was actually occurring (Chan was a mix between the two). You’d enjoy it more if you weren’t a bit bothered by the circumstances. All you could was glance in Chan's direction while he smiled and laughed along with his friends. Even though you were sitting next to him in the same car hood, you never felt further away. Every direction tonight felt like a punch in the gut, having only spoken to him before the movie started. At this point, you felt as if you had no place here, blinking away the humiliation tears threatening to fall.

“I’m a little cold. so I’m gonna finish the movie in the car.”

Finally, his eyes landed on you, “What?”

You slid off the hood and dusted yourself. Chan followed behind you confused before seating himself inside the car with you, a worried expression on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.” You splayed a less genuine smile, raising your cheekbones for good measure, but seeing its failure to convince otherwise.

“That means I did do something wrong,” he said, smiling bitterly. “Sorry. I’m not the best at picking up cues.”

“I told you, Chan. I just got cold.”

He sighed and turned to reach for something behind, pulling over something thick and warm over your body, covering your torso and legs. “Here. So you won’t catch anything.”

There’s that familiar clang to your heart you should be used to by now, following the marching band that typically arrives after inside your chest. “Thank you.”

You both sat in silence for a bit, continuing to watch the rest of the movie. He makes so attempt to communicate with his friends outside and he doesn’t smile, only focusing on the movie, insistent on being in your presence. You aren’t sure how to behave, fingers inching at lingering awkwardness.

“If I’m being honest,” You started saying, filling the charged air with something other than tension, “I didn’t expect to see that many people with us.”

“You didn’t?”

You shook your head. “I misunderstood all on my own. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just finish the movie.”

“Hey—“

“I’m feeling warmer already,” You said, grinning as yourself deeper into the blanket.

Your eyes were ready to train back in the movie before he spoke again, hearing a tone in his voice you weren’t all that familiar with. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable alone with me. I guess I did anyway.”

Guilt festered in the out of your stomach, regretting making a big scene out of nothing. “That’s not—“

“I got scared,” he admitted, the corner of his lips quirking up in a self-loathing grin. “They already saw my tickets so they thought they would get some too. Make it a group thing. I didn’t want it initially, but I thought, maybe it’d make things easier…I should’ve run it by you.”

You met his eyes, earnest yet soft. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this, processing his confession slowly. A fit of emotions wash over him and you see now the inner conflict that he had dealt with, somehow washing you over with relief. The final deep exhale you let out was solace, thinking to yourself how situations like this only happen in movies and books. You’re warm all over, an overwhelming urge to reach over and hug him, a fellow rambling mess.

“You didn’t misunderstand anything. I did want to go to the movies with you, but I wasn’t sure if you felt pressure or—“

You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. He stiffened under your touch, blinking back at you like a lost child. You smiled back at him from ear to ear and body leaned over on his side. “Just hold my hand. We’re not going to cause any more misunderstandings. Okay?”

He matched you, his pearly whites staring back at you as pretty as ever. “Okay.” His thumb caressed over your fingers, noticing something interesting as he did so. “It’s purple.”

“Hmm,” You looked down at your clasped hands, noticing that same thing he did: your mood ring in a solid rich purple. “It is.”

“Do you remember what purple means?”

You avoid edhis eyes, quietly laughing to yourself. “You know better than anyone.”

“I do.” He tightened his grip, head leaning against your shoulder and it felt as if time had stopped. You don’t doubt that he can hear your heart racing right or your uneven breathing. He turned the ring around your digit, watching how the colors periodically shift. “I won’t let there be any more misunderstandings.”

Since that incident, you went about your tutoring sessions as normal, with the additional intimacy that didn’t exist before. You both gradually developed these sessions into more study dates and then they became real dates. Things only became official when the semester finally ended and he continued wanting to see you, visiting your place whenever you got the chance using any possible excuse.

You could remember how happy you felt at the time. The relief there was to know he liked you back. It was almost as if you were living a dream. A damn perfect dream.

Then your first kiss came around. You were as nervous as anyone anticipating the first. Every doubt in the past didn’t matter, only now did. Everything all led up to this point. It just happened in the way you least expected it to.

You didn’t know why he insisted on teaching you how to play arcade games when he was just as bad. Still, it was cute seeing him try so hard. The firmness of his back followed your movement, guiding you to the right combos, shifting the joystick to move in the right direction, and although it was all wrong, you appreciated the back hug you were getting in return. Even the claw machine had to be a teaching lesson, insisting he had something to teach you. 

“I did it. Chan, I did it!” You saw the stuffed dinosaur grabbed by the metal prongs, dropping right into the winner’s slot. You bounced on your feet cheering and took Chan along with you, hugging him tightly as your inner child healed and squealed at your achievement.

“I knew you could! You’re amazing.” His strong arms came around you firmly, pressing you against the glass of the machine.

Your breath was seized, replaced with weightlessness and tension in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to leave and perhaps you didn’t want it to. Although he didn’t pull away from the embrace, he parted far enough to meet your eyes and the longing in them. He knew what it was because that’s what was in his eyes, falling into their trance like a lucid dream that had him higher than any recreational drug. Neither one of you was willing to let it go, so all you do is stare. Stare at each other like you’re in your own world and no one else’s. As if life as you know it ceased to exist except for you and Chan. Nothing else matters.

When it felt as if you could imagine a more perfect moment, he leaned in with closed eyes, finding your lips like they were a second home and stealing your breath. You thought to lean in to kiss him deeper, but he already had found his grasp and pressed into you closer against the glass, feeling every ounce of muscle and shape of his body beneath his clothes. His shallow breath against yours, his hug of lips pulling at your bottom lip, and he emitted a soft grunt.

He pulled away from you with his arms still wrapped around your sides, shocked by his impulsivity. He stroked the side of your head, scanning for any fear in your eyes, slightly relieved to see any in sight. “I’m sorry. That was…a lot, huh?”

You shook your head reassuringly. “No.”

“Then I can kiss you again?”

The corners of your lips turned up, gripping his jean jacket to pull him closer. “Yes.”

You were kissing for hours that day and the next day, and then again the day after. Since then, something has shifted and these teenage dreams turned reality into something less family friendly. Your nights in his dorm became more frequent, more intimate, and always backed by a melody thanks to a record player gifted to him by his dad when he moved out. His prized possession, besides you anyway, as he claimed.

“What do you want to be when you’re older,” he asked, dragging his digits in and out between yours. He smiled, noticing your mood ring turning a mix of pink and purple before kissing your knuckles. “You know I want to be a nurse. What’s your dream?”

In the background was Led Zeppelin, their intoxically addictive tune spinning on the table. You thought to yourself a bit before turning your head back up at him, nuzzling closer into his warm touch before answering. “I want…to be surrounded by the people I love.”

He laughed like he heard the sweetest thing on planet Earth before his fingers threaded through your hair. “Baby, that’s sweet but not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant, but it’s what I want. It doesn’t matter much what I do, as long as I’m with my loved ones.”

“Am I one of these loved ones? Do you love me?” 

“Yeah. I love you.” You didn’t even hesitate, the words were always on the tip of your tongue until that final push. You lifted alight above him to repeat yourself louder. You let him heed your words. “I think I really love you.”

You thought he’d react differently, more scared and unsure but—“I love you too.”

“Chan,” you smile, warm filling your inside as you let your breath chase away the race in your chest.

“I mean it.” He bent his head down to meet your lips, cupping your cheek with the warmth of his palm. “I really, really love you.”

Chan toppled over you, lips meeting yours repeatedly in a heated frenzy, caressing your body and holding you desperately against him as you did the same to him. He kept you between his legs, whispering it over and over, ‘I love you, I love you,’ blistering and marking your skin. How was it that made you feel as if you weren’t allowed to breathe? 

Before you realize it, clothes started coming off. Piece by piece. As ‘Babe I’m gonna leave you’ replayed, shirts, belt, pants, and everything underneath fell to the ground. You saw him. You saw all of him. And he saw all of you. Your instinct was to shield away, be conscious of your then and there but in his own way, he reassures you, speaking to you as though all his words were nothing but the earnest truth. “I’m here. You’ll never have to worry about me not being here. I love you so much.”

Your flesh spilled through his fingers, imprinting his hands through your nude. Sounds of worship leaving his lips between every kiss, not even the worry of lack of condoms could stop him. Your thighs were glued to his hips, and you felt the warmth of his length titter to your fresh heat. You moaned every time you met lips, every bite he gave to your skin, and every full twist his fingers made with your sensitive buds before filling the inside of his oral cavity of your full breast.

You ached to have him in you, hand barely reaching his girth before wrapping a tight wrist around him. He shuddered at your touch, thrusting through the circle of your palm. You felt the need in his movement as he grinded down on his couch, not minding the wool burn inevitable to be left behind. Weak chuckles escaped his lips and he flashed you a smile, seconds away from melting into helpless groans. “You know just how to handle me…”

“Only because you treat me so well.”

Kissing one breast and then the other, he reached your lips as he held your thighs against the sides of his torso. “And I’ll do it for as long as I’m alive.”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself against him, his warm breath tickling the tip of your nose. “Make love to me. I wanna feel you inside me.”

“Then I won’t wait a second longer.”

The moment you felt him inside you, you felt higher than anything you could find in a blunt offered by the shady next-door neighbor. You buckled into him, lifting your hips off the couch for a fully bloomed taste. The stretch he left had your jaw falling, clutching to his shoulder, and letting out exasperated breaths. You nearly choked on your own spit that had only forced it down when he picked up the pace.

You molten walls only sucked him in deeper, calling his name in blurred whines. Each thrust and each kiss was fueled by an undying passion. He carried you, palm to your back and your legs around his waist, and pulled you on top of him. From beneath you, he drilled your insides, meeting your longing expression. 

Your fingers draped over his face, and you held on to his blissful expression that occasionally dropped in anguish when chasing after his rhythm. You whined his name desperately, clinging to him as you dug down your hips down his lap. He moaned louder than before, gingerly cupping your breasts and finding your stiff nipples between his fingers.

“You feel so good taking me…and your tits are so soft and warm.” He pushed himself to thrust hard, pleased with how easily you easily bounced against him, watching your flesh moving loud and fluidly like water. “You’re so perfect to hold, and love, and fuck my dick into—shit.”

Your chest rose and fell catching up with his efforts. “Chan, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So, so, so—fuck!”

You felt his grip grow tighter and saw his jaw drop lower. His legs clenched to your sides impulsively, unwilling to let go. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore and came inside you. He looked as if everything in his brain told him not to, but it seemed that nothing could stop the geyser within him from coating your insides with hot ivory. He snapped into you in an erratic rhythm, cum spilled in you and out of him until it stained the wool underneath.

Chan was red in the face, both in embarrassment and heat. He looked up at you in panic at the direness of circumstance considering neither one of you thought to stay protected. “Shit, fuck,” he exclaimed still pumping inside you, “you feel so good. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, bending down to kiss him. “It’s okay, just don’t stop…please…”

His stressed expression melted, as did his fingers into your skin. He caressed over your sides with love in his eyes, swallowing nervously. “Really, baby? That ok?”

Perspiration coated his skin, beading down his adam’s apple as it bobbed. You felt like mush in his touch, letting your hips make use of the natural lubricant. Your boyfriend groaned at the sound of the slick moisture sliding over his skin. You cupped his face in your hands, working your jaw in a needy liplock. “Yes, please. Fuck your cum in me, please.”

His fingers tensed, dragging your lips to slap down on his. He exhaled slowly, your walls hugging his cock erect. He asked in a breathy voice, “Fuck my cum in you…my pretty girlfriend wants something so dirty done to her?”

“Yes, yes, please…” You whined.

He slammed up into you, feeling how he’s already bottoming out inside you. Hearing you moan his name lit a fire beneath him and he rolled you on your back to rut in you like a merciless animal. 

“You want my cum in you, hmm? Fill you up with my cum and put my fat load in you?”

You jerked in the opposite direction, your skin smacking against each other causing the tenderness of your skin. “Yes, please,” You choked out, “I want it all with you.”

His lips picked up from the corner in a smirk, turning you back over to plant you against the couch while his feet finally touched the ground. “You want it all? Like a life? A family? You want me to build a family with me…have me fuck my babies into you?”

“Yes, baby, please. I want you to fill me up so I can make you a daddy.”

“You love me that much?” He slammed into you with a proud smile. “You love me so much you see your future with daddy?”

You batted your lashes back at him. “I see every day either full of joy or full of your cum inside me.”

He snickered before biting his lips in a filthy moan, “Such a dirty mouth on the mother of my kids.”

You’re spent by the time your legs gave out, and you and your boyfriend exhausted your bodies to the point you couldn’t move even an inch off the couch. Cum seeped out of your holes like sap, only halted as you pressed your legs together to get comfortable. Chan had barely enough energy to tug a blanket off from behind him and throw it over your bodies. You smiled into his warmth, nuzzling into his chest, and inhaling his lusty musk. 

You moaned in satisfaction. “Mmh, I like this…”

“Me too.” He hummed.

“I never want this to end.”

“And it won’t,” he said, kissing the temple of your forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

You moaned. “Starving.”

He chuckled, holding you closer to him as his voice dropped an octave. “Let’s fill you up with something, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you lightly shoved him. “Chan…”

“Food, babe,” he said with a cheeky smile, “get your mind out of the gutter.”

After a quick shower, and a few wet kisses in between, you’re set to refresh yourselves with some fast food and can’t help but be filled with elation. You cozied into the passenger seat accepting the hand he’s offered as the other steadied the wheel. You can’t help but notice how he glanced every now and then when he shouldn’t, making you nudge him to fix his gaze.

It was always a loving one, one that you’d forever burn in your memory. You don’t even know why, but you shed a tear looking at it. That smile of his seems to go on for miles and brightens your day like the morning sun. You felt it in your heart. Something suffocating that you couldn’t describe but all you think in your head is that this was love and that loving Chan would be the easiest thing you could do.

He sent you another glance before making a turn, one a little longer than the few before, then all you heard was a loud blaring honk, your voice screaming his name, and then your vision went pitch black. You stared into darkness. Emptiness. Nothing was in sight. 

That was until your eyes were open again. You woke in a place of all white, smelling of antiseptic and a hint of febreeze. You slowly blinked, scanning the room, unmoving. Still, in fact.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine. Sleep well?”

You only could see who entered when they walked in your field of vision. Your eyes stared in shock at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling back at you in scrubs as he wrote away in his clipboard and looking as if he hadn’t aged a day. You internally screamed at your body to move, crying from within the inside at the inability, and then soon growing tired, realizing it’d never be possible. As he put away documents in a file holder pinned to the high wall, you stressed your throat to speak, hoping for the least a sound to follow, but instead, it was your silence.

“I’ll just open the blinds a bit, make sure they’re not too much light in your eyes. Too bad your nap was a little long. The weather was so good. I thought we could roll you out into the garden.”

You are losing your mind. The last thing you could remember was a car accident that felt like mere seconds ago and staring into the eyes of the man before you, who matched the love in your eyes. Now you’re imprisoned in your own immobile body, with no clue why and how the love of your life survived when you barely did.

“Your heart is pounding. Wait a second.”

Chan strode over to the monitor just out of view, forcing yourself to rely on your peripheral to watch him. His side profile and his body were all within reach but unassessable. You felt the sweat of your palm through the sheer determination alone, but to no avail, he stayed away from your grasp.

“Hmm, we’ll have to figure that out.”

Finishing up, he stood in front of you like a figure of light radiating brightness unfathomable to man. A light bright enough to fully grasp your reality. Your true reality.

That’s right. He’s not your boyfriend. You were never together.

You’ve been the way you were for two years, by a car accident nonetheless. This was Nurse Lee–your caretaker and nurse–who insisted you call him by name and talked to you as if you could talk right back. 

And this wasn’t the 1970s. It was the 2070s. 

Your gaze quickly turned to “Three's a Company” playing on the highly advanced TV plastered on the wall, momentarily surprised that they still had the show on cable, before snapping right back to your nurse, now going on about the daily work gossip. You couldn’t help but stare again, watching his handsome face turn up in a smile every time something delightful popped into his pretty little head as he spoke. Your eyes fluttered in remorse, a familiar sinking feeling in your chest as you inhaled and exhaled through your breathing tubes.

It all made so much sense. Too much in fact. Here you were in dreamland living in disbelief that someone as sweet and kind and Charming as Lee Chan—nurse Lee Chan—would ever be someone so madly in love with you. You lived a happy and healthy and normal life in your dreams, shutting off from the dark truth of your world is, as if you’ve never been in this accident. You dreamt of life before it was taken away before you narrowly escaped death.

If you could call this escaping death anyway. You were practically dead.

And perhaps the worst part—

“Vivian liked the flowers you suggested. I think she’ll finally stop being mad at me thanks to you.” 

He gently moved your head to fluff the pillow behind you and placed you back on top. He brushed away a hair that strayed over your face, and you felt a sensation pulse through your fingers. “I wish you could meet her. You’ve always been there to listen to me talk about the wedding planning, the bridal stuff, and then the actual wedding. I hope you liked the photos, the guy we hired was—phew—a pretty penny.”

You started to blink rapidly, seeing your reality crumbling before you, and all he could do was look as devastatingly beautiful as always, even with the dark circle under his eyes from long hours of work. 

“I talk a lot, huh? That’s what you’re thinking. Sorry, you’ve always been a listener, not that you can help it.” He chuckled to himself. “Sorry, dark joke. I’m sure if you could move now, you’d laugh.”

No, you wouldn’t.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second. Don’t worry.” 

He did the last round of his thorough check-up of your room before standing by the door with his clipboard in hand. Clicking his pen, he turned back to you one last time with a smile now turned bittersweet.

“Any day now. Your heart pulses a little faster every day. Your family is waiting for you. And because I’ve grown attached to you I’m waiting for you too. Maybe after all this, we could be friends, then you can tell me how much you love or hate when I talk to you. Just as long as you’re up and running again.”

The moment the door closed, you were alone again. The fluid built in your tear ducts finally found their escape and streamed down your still face, facing their discomforting warmth. Your chest heaved, your grew breaths shallow, your throat went dry, and suddenly your lips quivered. In solitude and sheer desperation, you said your first words in years.

“Chan…come…back…”

But it didn’t matter.

[throwawayjk4753]

Hello, I have some ideas for some Edward Nashton x reader fanfictions and I’d like to ask our community of weirdos which you would all prefer to see first. All fanfiction will be male reader. All fanfiction will be written for an adult audience and will contain substantial/some pornography. All fanfiction will be multi chapter.