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#this is so funny to me. hes not going one sentence without swearing
wonnieluv · 2 days
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Rainy Duet ☔️
Summary: you get caught in a downpour with your best friend (that you maybe have feelings for)
Warnings: kissing + implied skinship
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Best friend! Riki x reader
You don’t know how you got to here and you’re not sure if you regret it yet.
It’s currently 11:45pm and a quick trip to an ice cream parlor about a 15 minute bus ride away turned into the two of you being out so late that you missed the last bus back to your neighborhood.
“Riki I swear this is all your fault” you say accusingly after trudging up the third hill of the evening. It’s not that you’re that out of shape, it’s just hard to want to trudge up a hill at almost midnight when you could be lazing at home eating chips, but that’s what you get when you have Nishimura Riki as you’re best friend.
Just as you finish the sentence you feel the first droplet… and then the second… and the next thing you know it’s down pouring and the two of you are bolting under the nearest empty bus stop. Once you made it under cover safely riki immediately bursts into laughter.
"Is this funny to you riki? What if i get sick?"
"You worry too much. Live a little"
The second he finishes speaking, before you could even register his words, you’re being shoved into the pouring rain to the sound of even more melodious laughter coming from the boy you adore. You don’t even try to escape the rain, you just stand there in defeat and slowly trudge your way back to where Riki stood with your head down. His laughter slowly died down, beginning to think he had maybe overdone it this time
“Hey are you okay, I’m sorry I went to far I shouldn’t have pushed you.” He begins, worry lacing his voice. He reaches out his hand to grab your arm “come back under the cover before you get more soaked—“ He couldn’t even finish his sentence before you grabbed his arm that was reaching out to you and yanking him out into the downpour with you with a bright smile on your face.
“Get over here” the next thing you know, Riki is chasing you around the street. Any exhaustion you were previously feeling has completely evaporated and you’re now full sprinting from a relentless Riki hot on your tail.
When he finally caught up to you you felt his arms circle your waste as he latched onto you from behind. As you both slowed to a stop with his arms holding you tight your heartbeat began to rapidly increase. Not sure if it was from the adrenaline or the fact that the boy you’ve been crushing on who ALSO happens to be your best friend is back hugging you as you two sway side to side slowly in the rain.
After noticing your silence he lets you go and comes in front of you “you ok? What are you thinking about” he snaps you out of your thoughts as you look him in the eyes.
You’re not sure where the confidence came from but the next moment you know you’re moving closer and connecting your lips to his. It’s very awkward. You can tell he’s taken aback by the fact that he was standing there eyes and lips both gaping when you pulled away.
“I- I’m sorry… I’ll just… yea… sorry” you stutter out as you begin to walk away in the direction you believe your house is in. A mixture of sadness and embarrassment hits you as tears begin to well in your eyes. Yes you wanted to kiss him but you’re now worried you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.
“Don’t run away from me without the chance to hear my answer” he says as he grabs your wrist. Your heart races again as you face him again.
“Now… can I try that again” he says as he grabs your hand. You give him one look before he’s the one moving closer. The kiss is more natural this time. Both of you smiling and even giggling the kiss as it all becomes playful. You pull away pressing your foreheads against each other smiling as you take in the moment. He wraps his arms around your waist as your go around his neck as he begins to slow dance with you.
“You know how incredibly cheesy this is right?” You ask through a smile.
“Well, I’m excited to check this off of my ‘cheesy things to do with my girlfriend’ list. On day 1 at that.” He says with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen.
“Girlfriend huh? I guess I like the sound of that”
By the time you two make it home the rain has fully passed and it’s a few hours closer to sunrise than you would’ve liked. As you expected, you were both bed ridden with fevers the next morning but, despite your protests that you’ll never get better, he was fast to come to your house and climb in bed and cling to you like a Koala until your fevers broke.
That night in the rain was the first of many cheesy things the two of you did together. At this point the list is actually being added to rather than having things checked off.
I hope you all enjoyed this one 💜
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sugarcarnation · 4 months
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he so does not want to be there i can’t
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bookyeom · 4 months
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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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pov by ariana grande
i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do
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You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.
You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 
“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 
“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.
”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.
“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 
“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 
“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 
“Come on. Stop.”
Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”
“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”
“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.
“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 
“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”
The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”
You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”
You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“
“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 
“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.
“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”
“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 
“DK would,” you mumble.
“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 
“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 
“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”
“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”
“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 
“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 
“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”
”Are you saying you don't care about me?”
You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”
“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”
“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 
“When are you guys hanging out next?”
You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 
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“How was yesterday?”
“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 
You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.
“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.
“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”
Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”
“Cheol.”
“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”
You look back down at your food. “He did.”
Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”
“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”
The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”
“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”
This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.
“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”
“Yeah,” is all you say. 
“Hey.”
You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 
He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 
You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.
That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.
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You hate how downright… silly you feel.
”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”
“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.
“Are you happy?”
Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”
”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.
”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”
“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”
The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.
“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”
Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 
“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 
You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.
“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.
“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”
“But what did I do wrong? With him?”
Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 
You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 
“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.
It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”
To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.
“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”
You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?
“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.
“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”
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You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 
You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 
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Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?
You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas
Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 
Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(
Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE
You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.
Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?
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You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.
Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 
“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”
You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 
“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”
Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”
Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”
You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”
The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.
“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.
“Listen, I–”
“Hey, Cheol–”
You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 
“You first,” you offer, and he nods.
“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 
You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.
“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 
Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”
You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”
“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 
“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 
You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.
“Yeah?” 
Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?
“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.
He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.
“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.
“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 
The tension in the air is palpable. 
Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.
“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”
That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”
“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.
“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”
You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.
“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 
When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.
“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 
I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.
You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.
He seems to understand you just fine.
He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.
The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 
The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 
Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 
When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”
It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”
He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 
You believe him.
“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.
“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 
You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”
“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.
“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”
Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”
You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”
The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”
“You’ve thought about it, huh?”
You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”
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A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda
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vinvantae · 1 month
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How the current F1 grid acts after going from your friend to lover
Some sections inspired by prompts from @me-writes-prompts
Some are longer than others just depending on how inspired I was, not playing favourites I swear!
Some are angsty, some are fluffy. Some are a lil sexy but they’re all basically just different post friends-to-lovers scenarios. Enjoy!
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#1 Max Verstappen
He relishes in your warm touch against his skin, but he was still so unfamiliar when it happened in front of his friends - even the soft press of your lips against his cheek had his cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink, his next words coming out as stammers. He would be annoyed by the way his friends - your friends - teased him about it but after years of pining - he was just glad he finally got to call you his, your soft giggles filling his ears as he proudly admitted that he was, in fact, a massive simp.
“You’re cute.” You whisper in his ear, laughing when somehow his cheeks darkened even more.
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#2 Logan Sargeant
You could see Logan watching you out of the corner of your eye as the two of you made lunch - you couldn’t help the smile that tugged your mouth. “You’re staring, Logan.” His cheeks flushed, but he approaches you nonetheless - his eyes sparkling. “Can…” He took a deep breath. “May… May I kiss you? Please.” A soft hum left your lips as you looped your arms over his shoulders, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to ask… I’m yours.”
He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”
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#3 Daniel Ricciardo
The moment the two of you locked eyes, you burst into laughter - tears rolling down your cheeks as you lent into his hold, his cackles bouncing off of the walls as the people around you exchanged looks. “Did I say something funny?” You tried to explain but you couldn’t get a full sentence out without your own giggles cutting you off.
“Are you guys crazy or what?” Daniel managed to calm his laughter just for a moment - his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you, his smile morphing from one of humour to one of fondness as you tried to calm yourself, wiping away a tear. Crazy in love, maybe.
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#4 Lando Norris
You were rudely awoken by a repeated clacking against your window - none other than Lando stood down on the ground, smiling up at you when you finally opened up the glass to look down. “What on earth are you doing?” You laughed. “You’re my boyfriend now, we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”
When you let him into your place, his hands were immediately on your hips - pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I miss sneaking around.” He hummed, somehow hauling you even closer. “But I do have to admit… this is better. Showing off to everyone that you’re mine.”
“Yours, huh?” You purr. “Should make me scream loud enough that my neighbours know too.”
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#10 Pierre Gasly
Your breath catches in your throat as he presses you into the wall - his arms caged either side of your head as the music thumps loud in your ears. The smirk that toys on his lips has your heart pounding in your chest. He pressed his body against yours - the months of pining after you were finally over and he had you exactly where he wanted you. “I know exactly what you’re thinking…”
“Oh? You do?” You tease, letting your hands run up his chest. “And what are you gonna do about that, mon amour?”
His chuckle was dark, a thrill zipped up your spine - and as his eyes locked against yours, you knew you were in for a wild night.
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#14 Fernando Alonso
You couldn’t wrap your head around how often his hands were on you - before it was always just a ghostly hand on the small of your back or a gentle hand on your shoulder but now? He’d haul you onto your lap whenever he got the chance, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. Or he’d sweep you into a kiss in front of large crowds, not caring who was watching - and you couldn’t get enough.
“Nando, if I knew you were going to be like this… I would’ve confessed my feelings for you a whole lot sooner” You laughed, as he had practically run away from his PR agent to sweep you up into a massive hug.
“I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself for all of those years, I’m just glad I don’t have to hold back anymore.”
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#16 Charles Leclerc
As his arms slipped around your middle, chin coming to rest on your shoulder - you felt content. After years of mutual pining, his touch felt more natural than ever. The two of you had always been close and the transitions from friends to lovers was so natural, his touches became more intentional, his hugs lasted longer - his hands lower. You turned in his hold so you could brush your lips together in a longing kiss, his stubbled cheeks in your hands. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, mon chou.” He hummed. “But unlike all the other times? I can show you just how much.” Your laughter was as light as air as he scooped you up into his arms to whisk you to the confines of your bedroom.
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#18 Lance Stroll
Things were still new, fresh, so you decided to keep the nature of your blossoming relationship between the two of you private. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other across the garage whenever you could, struggling to hold back the smiles. He was brought back down to earth when an engineer nudged a shoulder against his- turning to be met with a teasing, raised brow.
“So, you two..?”
“We’re friends.”
“Just friends?”
He let his gaze fall back to you, unable to help the smile on his face as you gave him a knowing look.
“Yeah, just friends.”
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#20 Kevin Magnussen
Kevin wasn’t huge on PDA, sure - he was more than happy to hold your hand, but for the most part he kept his hands to himself, especially at work. But when it got busy, sardines packed into a small office space for some last minute announcement - he’d always find his way to your side, arm brushed right up against yours. As Ayao addressed the room, he leant in - his voice a whisper. “Fancy a distraction?”
“Depends what you have in mind, Kev.” You whispered back, eyes forward - trying your best to pay attention, but your cheeks instantly heated up as his hand ghosts over your rear.
“You have no idea, søde.”
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#22 Yuki Tsunoda
You’d fallen asleep on Yuki before - he used to freeze up, determined not to move an inch in order not to wake you. But this time, with your head on his chest - hand splayed across his shirt, he simply pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and laid it across you both.
He smiled softly as you grumbled and snuggled in closer, allowing him to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and close his own eyes - just enjoying the weight and warmth of your body on top of his.
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#23 Alex Albon
It was surprisingly warm as the two of you laid on a picnic blanket under the stars, your head rested on his chest - a strong arm tucked underneath you. This was the first real time you’d spent together alone since you’d both finally admitted your feelings and it felt so right. You let your eyes flicker across the stars, a soft gasp passing your lips as you witnessed a shooting star.
“I don’t think Greggs is open this late.”
“How on earth did you know I wished for a sausage roll?”
He chuckled softly. “I know you better than anyone else.”
“Do you though?”
His gaze flickered down to you as you propped your chin up on his chest to look up at him, the smile on his face fond. “Of course I do.”
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#24 Zhou Guanyu
“Open up.”
You opened your mouth, allowing his hand to guide the spoon between your lips - hand cupped beneath your chin to catch any potential dribbles. He watched with eager eyes as you swallowed, the flavours washing over your chin. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”
“And to think, you doubted me.”
With a playful roll of the eyes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve never cooked anything more than instant ramen in my presence. How was I supposed to know?”
“Cooking is my love language, so get used to it… gonna make sure you’re never hungry.”
“Oh, a boyfriend who’s my own personal chef? I am lucky.”
He grinned at that.
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#31 Esteban Ocon
You wobbled as you fished through the piles of jackets on the bed, trying to fish out your jacket as Esteban leant against the doorframe with a playful smile on his face. “You should just stay here, mon ange.”
A soft whine left your lips. “Estie, I shouldn’t.”
He approached you, his hands wrapping around your middle - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay. I insist… it’s cold out, I’ll keep you warm.”
After a moment of protest, you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”
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#44 Lewis Hamilton
Although you were more than friends, you were still yet to let him put a label on it. Too scared that saying you were more than just two people screwing, would open yourself up to heartbreak.
But it was different this time, his eyes full of want as his fingers brushed across the skin of your jaw. You wanted to be his, you lent in to kiss him but his grip on your face stopped you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Lew, please.”
“You know exactly what I want, sweetheart.” He whispered, lips brushing lightly over yours. “I need you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours, Lewis. Always… Now, kiss me.”
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#55 Carlos Sainz
It was crowded and loud, shoulders bumping against yours - throat burning from having to shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. You swirled your drink in your glass, chin propped up on your hand as you lent against the bar. Carlos could see the scowl on your face from across the room, so he politely excused himself from his friends to approach you.
“Mi vida.” Somehow you managed to hear his low purr over the music. “You look bored.”
You looked up to him, his brown eyes boring into yours. “So bored.”
He chuckled softly, pressing a deep kiss to your lips - stealing your breath. “We should definitely get out of here? Don’t you think so?”
It was almost comical how fast you nodded, letting him haul you out of the club.
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#63 George Russell
“Stop walking away from me!” He practically yelled, halting you in your tracks - you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re my best friend, I just.. I just can’t lose you.”
You scowled. “God, I hate that word.”
“Lose?”
“Friend.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “George, we’re not just friends, we’ve not been just friends for a long time…”
He stepped closer, taking your hands away from your face - linking your fingers together by your side. “I know, this is all just so new to me. I care about you endlessly… I want this, us, to work.”
You smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”
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#77 Valtteri Bottas
“You look tired.”
You looked up from your coffee as Valtteri stepped into the room - his mullet messy from sleep as he stepped around the kitchen counter to give you a kiss. The two of you had been roommates for two years, but had recently found yourselves falling comfortably in a relationship - his bedroom long since abandoned.
“I did not know you had the ability to snore that loud, Val.”
He let out a snort of a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t like I knew that you sleep with a hundred stuffed animals either.”
You giggled, placing your mug on the counter so you could pull him closer. “You wanna go back to your own room?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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#81 Oscar Piastri
“This was a terrible idea.”
Oscar laughed as he stood just ahead of you on the ice - you were holding onto the railing for dear life as you shuffled your skates towards him. He rolled his eyes and effortlessly skated over. “You’ll never get better if you don’t let go. I won’t let you fall.”
With a huff you finally relinquished your grip and made an attempt to skate, for a moment - it feels like you have it, but a second later you’re crashing face first into Oscar’s chest - the two of you falling back onto the ice.
“Oh my god, Osc. I’m so sorry!” You squeaked. “You okay?”
“I got you flowers for our first date and you gave me a concussion, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal.” He teased. “A kiss would make it better.”
With a playful roll of the eyes you lent down to kiss him - definitely a first date to remember.
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A lil bit of everything for everyone! Hope you enjoyed x
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kooqitas · 2 months
Text
— sharing ★ with: bts
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#pairings: bf!jungkook X friends!bts X reader #synopsis: where your boyfriend decides to ask his friends what they want to see #tags: pwp, group sex, blowjob, rough oral sex (m.), fingering (f.), humiliation, degradation, cumslut, spit, sperm, tears, free use (?). aftercare mentioned but not shown. mention of bisexual jungkook #notes: this is more fetishistic than usual on this blog, so DON'T READ if you're uncomfortable with 7 guys cumming on your face and swearing at you. #wc: 2,2k
you see your friends after a months, like since you and jungkook are living together you don't see them. it's funny, cause you are friends an years ago, but at a some months you just can't see each other.
"you're so hot dressing like that, maybe if we fuck before the guys comes..." jungkook said lifting your skirt and rubbing your hole. 
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"namjoon text me, he said that come in five minutes with the guys"
"i promise that i can make you cum in five minutes"
you laughed, because you know that’s real…
but the other six guys are at your door in five minutes. not just six guys but six best friends of yours.
"i know that we fucked yesterday, but god, i need eat your pussy again, i'm addicted, i need fuck you every hour, every minute, every second, night after night..." despite the completely dirty speech, jungkook was kissing his shoulder calmly.
“the guys are coming in any minute” you tried to convince yourself.
“don't be so mean to me, give me that dirty little hole, please”
jungkook moved one of his hands up to the thin strap of your shirt, pulling it down and exposing your nipples, he turned you around, putting his mouth there without any ceremony. you were used to your boyfriend's tongue, how he sucked and bit the nipple of your breast with devotion.
and then the doorbell rang.
"jungkook, stop, the boys are here." you tried to stop your boyfriend.
"i'm sure they wouldn't mind seeing me fuck you, baby. and you don't mind showing how that tight hole stretches with my cock, sure?”
god, this is a FUCKING true, you and jungkook are worse than each other, but more than showing, you'd easily let them stretch you too!
"i know exactly what you thought, dirty little girl." he said before going back to sucking your nipples.
and then they rang the doorbell again.
"holy shit!" jungkook complained, going to open the door, you are trying clumsily to put your clothes in place.
when the other six men entered your house you smiled, you missed them, namjoon was the first to hug you, leaving a kiss on your forehead in a gentle way, and damn, you had seen some photos he posted at the gym, but he was BIG…
seokjin came next, the tall man kissing your hand before giving you a cute hug.
and after, jimin came, leaving a wet kiss on your cheek as he always did, the blonde guy had a scent that was enough to make your panties even wetter.
shit, jungkook shouldn’t have teased you.
you noticed that taehyung whispered something to yoongi, who laughed, muttering something like 'have decency?' and only then did you notice that, probably due to jungkook's saliva, your tits were wet, and the thin shirt clearly marked this.
"oh, yes! you disturbed us, i was dying to fuck my wife and you arrived."
a lot of things happened in that sentence, jungkook calling you 'my wife' and mainly, him exposing your sex life to all his friends.
it's not like they didn't imagine, you were friends before you and jungkook dated, the other six knew what you were like, and how jungkook was too, it was a matter of adding a + b, sometimes they would say something in the group chat, but It was the first time they had said something like that in front of them.
"if you want to fuck her, i don't care, as long as i can watch. it's not like i've never fucked you guys." hoseok said as if she wished a 'good morning'.
and that was the truth, besides jungkook, you had already had sex with at least four of your friends, and the same went for him, it's very likely that that's why he wasn't jealous.
"oh, can i? because i really want to do this."
god, your boyfriend was a perv.
“please, i miss seeing her tits.” namjoon confessed, reminding you of how he loved being on top of you, sucking your nipple to make you relax on his fat cock.
“dude, respect my girl!”
jungkook scolded namjoon, but you knew it was a joke as soon as your boyfriend came behind you, pulling the strap of your shirt down and exposing your breasts to his friends.
if you stopped to think about it, you would think it was crazy, your boyfriend sharing you with six other guys, but on the other hand, the other six guys were your friends, and you wanted much more than just looks at you.
“does anyone want to see anything else?” jungkook asked, making you feel your panties soaking, you felt like an exposed slut, a trophy, and that would never be a bad thing.
"her panties" seokjin said, looking at you with devotion, you had never done anything other than kiss him at a party.
“i want something” taehyung said.
"what do you want to see?"
"i want to see her on her knees sucking my cock." it was direct.
"if you suck taehyung's cock you'll have to suck mine too!' yoongi spoke up.
"and certainly mine too." jimin said, rubbing his thumb across his lips.
“let me get this straight,” jungkook scratched his throat. "are you saying to my face that you want my wife to give you a blowjob?"
"it was you who offered her to us like a prostitute." hoseok spoke up, unbuckling his belt.
god, you never felt so horny, your boyfriend and your friends discussed you as if you were even in that room.
"what do you think about this, baby?" Jungkook asked you.
"well..." you just walked around the counter, heading towards the sofa (being followed by the seven men as if they were puppies), and then removed your skirt and the blouse that was around your waist.
jungkook came to you, kissing you as you removed his clothes, his fingers brushing the white lace of your wet panties as you let out little moans into his mouth. your boyfriend was completely turned on, rubbing his pecs on your nipples making you moan even more.
"my little slut is so greedy, seven guys in your mouth? will you be able to handle it?"
"i need to get it!"
"good whore!" he kissed you one last time. "you don't deserve that much, organize yourself to kiss her in pairs, and you know her and the word, anything I'll insist on killing each one of you.”
jungkook barely finished and jimin and seokjin came close to you, jimin from behind, pressing his already hard cock on your back, and seokjin on your belly, at that moment you wanted both of them inside you, but all you got was seokjin sucking and nibbling your nipples while jimin kissed you and played with your wet panties. you moaning to the two of them while the other five watched everything.
you didn't even notice when taehyung and yoongi arrived, their firm hands using you to rub themself, it was pathetic, the pinch that yoongi gave your left nipple while your hand was inside taehyung's pants made you scream in pain, but mixed with pleasure, you liked that aggressive way.
"are you going to call me daddy again tonight?" namjoon asked as he approached you with hoseok, sticking two fingers into your pussy without any warning when hoseok’s kissing you “i missed that drippy messy hole.” namjoon goes fast, he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you moan so loud because everything is even hotter when you see all those other men looking at you.
"i think the guys will like to see this" hoseok moved out of your way, exposing everyone to the image of you moaning into namjoon's fingers.
"so pretty our bimbo slut!" jimin said, watching the scene.
your boyfriend wanted to tell namjoon to stop it, take you to the bedroom and fuck you until his body shut down, but just seeing how much fun you were having with it all made him wait.
namjoon adds a third finger in without warning and you're feel so humiliated, leak around his hands when he fucks his fingers in and out of your cunt at an insane rhythm. 
"tell your boyfriend how much you miss my cock opening all that hole, how much you miss your girl juices running down my cock. how you love look at my cock crammed in your tight pussy” and then he took his fingers out of you, rubbing them on your lips and forcing you to kneel on the floor. “you're not going to cum, unless whore, you're going to shove our dicks down your throat and let us cum all over your body, then your boyfriend sees what he does to you full of other men's cum”
and then you noticed the other six men approach you with their dicks in their hands, taehyung was the first to pull your hair, and you were agile with your warm tongue tracing his dick up and down.
while your tongue was still on taehyung, hoseok rubbed his balls in your face, and you tried to grab them on your tongue too, but it was in vain.
“jungkook you date a prostitute!” seokjin said when you grabbed his dick, starting a masturbation.
"i'm sure she can handle two" jimin said, shoving his cock along with taehyung's down your throat.
and you sucked it, not even you know how, but you sucked it like it was the most delicious lollipop in the world while they both thrust hard into your throat.
at one point in the night, you had jimin and taehyung's dick in your mouth and seokjin and hoseok one in each hand. namjoon, jungkook and yoongi took turns rubbing their dicks over your body and slapping your chest and face.
jimin took his dick out of your mouth, and you fit seokjin's cock, watching from the side as jimin started jerking off.
yoongi was in your right hand, you caressing his balls.
you felt some tears in your eyes, sometimes hitting your friends' thighs to make them stop for you to breathe, before returning to the aggressive pace.
the feeling was much more pleasant due to the environment than the sexual act itself, since you could barely actually suck the dicks, every time someone was coming in and out of your mouth.
"i think this stupid bitch was too greedy, she hasn't choked on my dick yet" namjoon complained, making you release seokjin and hoseok's dick that were in your mouth, when the two came out, an absurd amount of saliva ran out of you, it was humiliating, but you didn't have much time to think as soon namjoon grabbed your hair and made your nose touch his pelvis.
and then yoongi and jungkook joined him, rubbing their balls all over your face while you just opened your mouth and gladly accepted whatever they gave you.
"you look like a bitch in heat, trying to suck all these dicks when you clearly can't!" yoongi complained.
and this triggered a series of humiliations.
"disgusting mouth, can't even suck dick properly!" jimin said.
"i'm ashamed to say that that mouth touched my dick." seokjin said as he buried his throat on his cock, making you cough and cry.
"i think the only good hole in you is your pussy." namjoon said shortly after spitting at you, encouraging the other six to do the same.
no matter how much they cursed and humiliated you, you had never felt so good, the feeling of having seven men in a circle around you was inexplicable.
and when hoseok left your mouth just to cum you felt even better.
his sperm falling down your face and breasts, mixing with that of jimin and taehyung who came soon after.
“our cumslut, so disgusting, free whore, thank u, jungkook” taehyung joked, grabbing your hair.
you came back with namjoon's dick in your mouth, choking and coughing several times as he fucked your mouth with even greater force than he used to do in your other holes.
“dating jungkook made you stupid, that mouth doesn't do anything right!” namjoon shouted, pulling his dick out of your throat only to spit a thick string of saliva there and hit you on face.
your face full of other guys cum while you was still sucking namjoon was what made your boyfriend cum on your face, making namjoon's big cock a little dirty.
"be useful at least a little and make me cum in that throat" yoongi said.
you put yoongi's dick back in your mouth, sucking it and namjoon's as they fucked you, and you saw stars as they came together and filled your throat, so full to the point that it leaked out of your mouth even though you tried to swallow.
you cum, without any stimulation other than the humiliation and the cum on your body, you just came so hard that your body shook.
you were a mess, your entire body and the room floor is a mixture of tears, cum, and spit. and you were still fucking wet.
"do you want some help with her?" your friends offered, after putting on your clothes and seeing that you were completely destroyed.
“no need,” jungkook thanked. "i take care of my princess."
and then the other six walked over to you, giving you a careful peck on the mouth before being led to the door.
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kjdkive · 4 months
Text
it's a date — mark lee.
"i know! but i think frank ocean is gonna have an amazing musical comeback." mark tells you very excited as you are scooping ice cream for this charity event you volunteered to work at.
mark is not someone you would call a friend, he's a friend of your friend and you also like him a lot but in secret. you're not trying to date johnny's friend or maybe you are. you can swear there's this tension between you but not one of you dares to make a move.
"honestly, don't you think people are hyping it too much that it may disappoint turning everyone into a hater?" you ask him.
"they could never make me hate my father frank. dude, it's like sza, how many years did she leave us to dry and when she came back it was an amazing album?"
"yeah, i guess you're ri-" you don't finish the sentence "shit."
"what?"
"the guy that has been bothering me for a while is here and i think he's coming our way." you turn your back to the counter and face mark awkwardly.
it's a funny story of how this guy started to bother you, asking you out every single time, one would dare to call him a fan but you don't want anything to do with him. not so funny anymore.
"hey, y/n! care to give me a vanilla ice cream?"
you quickly scoop the ice cream without greeting him back and hand it to him.
"aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend, y/n?" the weird guy asks.
"sup' man, i'm her boyfriend." he fully stares at him, the other guy with the ice cream getting uncomfortable.
you look at mark and then look at the guy whose name you don't remember, you try your best to not laugh and to also try to not feel a zoo in your stomach.
"oh, i-" the guy starts.
"what? you got a problem?" mark asks him, holding you by your waist and turning you to him, making you turn your back on the weird guy.
you place your palms on mark's chest and just turn around a little to see your basically stalker finally giving up on you.
"not a problem, man, just wondering. guess i'll go."
"yeah, that's better." mark says back.
you start giggling as soon as the other leaves, making mark look down at you and smile.
"i'm your girlfriend now?" you ask him.
"yeah, you're my dream come true." he's still caressing your waist and back.
"don't you think you have to ask me out for a drink first?"
"you don't like drinking, y/n." he smiles "i was thinking about taking you to that pizza place you're always recommending to everyone but me."
"are you finally asking me out on a date?" you smile too.
"i am." and he can't stop smiling and giggling "will you go out on a date with me?"
"i'd love to, mark."
458 notes · View notes
Note
For a request:
Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!
Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear
I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.
I love your writing!
- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️
None Lacking Sins
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Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader
Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.
Word Count: 7.4k
Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night
A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  
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You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.
“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”
“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 
Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 
Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 
Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.
You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.
“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”
You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 
“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”
“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”
Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 
Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 
“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 
“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 
“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”
“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 
“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 
“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”
“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 
You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 
Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.
There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 
You huff and roll your shoulders.
Maybe the day’s just getting to me.
“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 
The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 
“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 
The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 
“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 
Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 
“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 
“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”
“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 
Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 
But…
“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 
You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 
“I’ll take it.” 
“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”
“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”
“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”
“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”
“Excuse me?” 
Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.
Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.
“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 
The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 
The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.
“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.
“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”
“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 
“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 
“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 
Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 
“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 
The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 
Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.
“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 
A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 
“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 
It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.
Tomorrow.
“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 
The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.
“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”
It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 
By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 
Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 
As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 
“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 
You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.
The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 
“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.
Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.
“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”
“Shut up.” 
“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”
From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 
“MacTavish!” 
Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.
In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 
“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”
“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 
“Johnny!”
The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 
“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 
“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”
Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”
Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 
He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 
“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”
You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 
“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 
Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 
Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 
“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 
Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 
Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 
You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 
When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 
A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 
He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 
Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 
Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.
Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.
The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”
“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.
“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 
Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.
“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 
“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.
“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 
Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.
“Move light.” 
The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 
Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.
“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 
“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 
At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’
“I—”
“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”
This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 
He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 
“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”
The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 
“Spread out and find her!”
“Yes, Sir!” 
Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.
“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 
One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 
Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 
Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 
Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 
Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 
Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 
A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.
Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…
Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 
Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 
Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 
Don’t think about it—just get away.
It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.
It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 
What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 
The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 
“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 
“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 
“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 
What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.
“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 
He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.
If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.
“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”
“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 
“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 
Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 
“Ride’s waiting.” 
“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”
“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 
Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 
No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 
The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 
“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 
If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?
Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.
“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 
“Get in.” 
“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.
The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.
“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.
The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 
A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 
“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 
Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 
He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.
“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.
His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 
“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.
His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 
Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 
“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 
Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.
“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”
Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 
“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”
You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 
Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 
Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 
“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.
“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 
Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 
“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”
“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”
“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 
The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 
He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.
Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 
The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.
But for you…
Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.
“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 
He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.
“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.
“Aye.” He breathes.
“His blood’s all over the house.”
“It is.”
“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 
He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.
No one messed with his family and lived.
“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 
The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.
“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 
“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”
“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 
The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 
“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.
“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.
“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 
You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.
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2K notes · View notes
quack-quack-snacks · 5 months
Note
Ok, for Ban x Reader request…
Smut, just pure smut.
As for what happens, Fem!Reader decides to try on the Boar Hat’s uniform and Ban cannot stop thinking about fucking her with that uniform on.
As for specific kinks: Ban having a giving and receiving praise kink, also a mild biting kink.
And possibly Ban referring to the reader as ‘doll’ as a term of endearment.
I like your funny words magic man 🪄
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Pay Up Later
My Navigation and Masterlist
My Sweet Home Masterlist
Pairing(s): Ban x Fem!Reader Summary: Ban loves a woman in uniform. Warnings: Smut, porn with a little plot, praise kink, biting kink, cursing, uniform kink (?). Word Count: 3,394
“It's been so long since we’ve done something like this! We should have a girl’s day more often!” Diane exclaimed to you and Elizabeth as you all walked back to the tavern from the town. It was a quiet day when Elizabeth, Diane, and you decided to get away from the Boar Hat for a while and take a much-needed break. With all the fighting and chaos that’s been happening, it felt like you never got a chance to breathe anymore. 
“I agree! It's nice to get out every once in a while!” Elizabeth agreed and you smiled at the two girls. 
“If only we could do it more often, it seems like we never get a break anymore,” you complained, playfully throwing your head back while they laughed at your antics. 
Diane reached over to lace her arm through yours and pull you along, doing the same to Elizabeth on her other side. “Well, maybe we’ll just have to make it a tradition then!” She stated cheerfully. “I need whatever time I can get with you two while you’re not being hogged by the boys.”
Elizabeth blushed but you just looked at her, confused. “What do you mean by that?” You asked and she gave you a look like you were stupid. 
“You know exactly what I mean by that. Elizabeth,” she bumped her hip against the girl playfully which caused the girl to blush even more. “Keeps getting hogged by Meliodas whenever he’s around, always wanting her as close as possible because he likes her~” she drew out the end of her sentence playfully as Elizabeth brought both her hands up to cover her face. “And you are always being watched over by Ban. I swear, I never see you without him being somewhere nearby. Tell me,” she leaned close conspiratorially, dragging Elizabeth with her as they were still attached by their linked arms. “Are you two dating? What’s going on between the two of you?” 
Elizabeth brought her hands down, silently also curious about your answer and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you coughed awkwardly and looked away. 
“There’s nothing going on, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you refuted before seeing the Boar Hat appear over the hill you were climbing. “Oh look! We’re almost here, guess that means the questions are over! Darn, and I was really looking forward to answering them! Oh well!” You sarcastically told them and they laughed at the way you brushed them off. 
“Fine, keep your secrets,” Diane teased while poking your side lightly. 
The three of you laughed as you finally approached the entrance to the tavern and opened the door, the conversation changed from that of boys to one about the activities you all did earlier in the day. As soon as you all walked in, your eyes immediately locked on Ban. He was standing behind the counter, pouring leftover scraps into the food bowl of Hawks. The pig, still in his tiny form after the fight with the previous Holy Knight Grandmaster, Hendrickson, was sitting in the middle of the bowl, eating his heart away and his eyes shining like he was in heaven. Meliodas sat at the other side of the bar with his usual cup of Vanya Ale in his hands. 
The chime of the bell on the door caused the three’s attention to snap to the doorway you all were walking through. Ban’s eyes immediately found yours and he gave you a smirk. You blushed and looked away, Diane’s words ringing through your head as you mentally analyzed every single one of your interactions with the man. 
While you’d had a crush on the man for as long as you’d known him, you weren’t sure if he ever felt the same. He seemed softer with you than he did everyone else but you always thought it was just because you weren’t one of the sins. 
Then again, Elizabeth wasn’t a sin either and he never treated her the same way he treated you. 
“Hey guys! Welcome back!” Meliodas exclaimed with a smile as he stood up and walked towards the three of you. “How was your girls’ day?” 
“It was wonderful! There was this band that was playing in the street with dancers and everything! We also sto-“ Elizabeth’s words started to fade into the background while she explained what you did as you began to feel eyes glaring into the side of your head. Looking up, you saw the eyes belonging to the one and only Fox Sin. You shot him a smile when you made eye contact and he shot you a smirk back. Looking away when you felt the tap of an elbow against your side, you turned back to see Elizabeth heading up the stairs and Diane looking at you questioningly. 
“Are you going to come change with us?” She asked and you immediately nodded. With a smile and no other words spoken, she took your hand and started leading you up the stairs when you suddenly heard a familiar feminine scream. Chasing up the stairs to get to Elizabeth, you were shocked to find the room you shared with Diane in tatters. Ignoring that for the time being, Diane beat you to the chase as she asked if Elizabeth was okay. The girl nodded with wide eyes as she stared into the room. 
It was then you noticed the familiar large black and green hound tearing apart the clothes in your closet. 
“Oslo! Oslo!” You heard King call from upstairs before he came running down and saw you all. “H-hey Diane! Hey guys! Have you guys seen Oslo?”
Without a word, you all moved to the side so he could see his companion ripping apart your clothes. 
“Oslo, no! Bad hound!” He flew forward, grabbing onto the piece of clothing in the hound's mouth as he tried to stop him from damaging it anymore. 
Shaking your head, you sighed at the scene. A few clothes of Diane’s were ruined but the majority of the damage was done to the clothes in your closet. 
When King was finally able to drag Oslo out of your room, he rushed forward and started shouting his apologies. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how he got in there or why he would do that! Let me make it up to you!”
You laughed at his frantic words and just waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, King. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal my ass,” You heard Ban say from behind you before his arm wrapped around your shoulders and his shoulders hunched down. “You need to make him pay up, Doll.”
The nickname made you pause but you shook your head, denying his suggestion and shaking off the heating of your cheeks at the same time. “No, really!”
“No, truly! I insist! I will make you brand-new clothes that will be even better than the ones you had previously!” King told you loudly with an adorable amount of determination. Smiling kindly, you rested a hand on his head since he was bowing down in an apology. 
“Okay, if that’s what you really want to do, then I won’t stop you. It’ll save me a shopping trip I guess,” you gave in to his wishes and he smiled at you awkwardly but his fists clenched in absolute resolve. Muttering another apology to you, he turned and started heading for his room on the top floor, dragging Oslo along with him by the hound’s ear. You sighed as you stepped into your room and examined the damage to your clothes. Everything was ruined. You were pretty sure there wasn’t a single piece of clothing in there that was wearable anymore. 
Diane walked up to stand next to you and winced at the sight. “Well that’s not good,” she mumbled before her eyes lit up with an idea. “I’ve got it!” She grabbed your arm and started pulling you down the stairs and into the pantry in the tavern’s kitchen. Letting go of you, she walked over to a large cupboard. When she opened it, you could see a multitude of the women's tavern uniforms in all different sizes hanging inside. “You can just borrow one of these for the time being until we get you your new clothes!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Now Elizabeth, you, and I can all match!”
A smile lit your face up from her over-exaggerated happiness at the idea and you reached inside the cupboard to grab your size of the outfit. “Sure, Diane. It’ll be exciting!”
Standing in front of the mirror, you looked at yourself in the outfit. While it was definitely not the type of outfit you would normally wear - with it being so revealing and the likelihood of your panties showing if you leaned forward even the slightest bit - you really liked how it looked. You could see why Elizabeth hardly wore the other clothes she had even on her days off of work. Diane was less consistent with her outfit choices. She often switched between her regular fighting leotard, the tavern uniform, and some other clothes she had in her closet. 
The uniform fit you like a glove. The single stocking - which you always found rather inconvenient and unnecessary but Meliodas always insisted on it - stuck to your thigh and surprisingly didn’t slip down once. The blouse circled your torso beautifully. The ruffles on the bottom and sleeves of the shirt were a nice touch along with the fabric that wrapped around your neck and hung in the front. While the skirt was a little too short for your liking, it still made you look good. You couldn’t help but admire yourself in the mirror as you wore it. You’d been getting ready to head down to do your normal ‘job’ of sitting at the counter and watching Ban work but you knew you were running late. 
You just couldn’t drag your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror. 
A knock interrupted your admiration and you walked over to the door to open it. It was both a surprise and not to see Ban standing outside your door, leaning against the door frame and towering over you. A low whistle escaped his mouth as he dragged his eyes across your body, admiring you just as you did a few minutes ago. 
“Damn. Looking good, Doll,” he complimented and heat rose to your cheeks. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Well I was coming to see where my favorite girl was but it looks like she was looking extra pretty up here instead of downstairs with me.”
He popped off the door frame and took a step towards you. Nervous, you took a step back and swallowed. His eyes followed to movement of your throat as he entered your room, closing the door behind him and securing the lock in place - all the while, never breaking his eyes on you. 
“Who knew my pretty doll was even prettier when she was all dressed up,” he said as he took more steps toward you. With your many steps back, it only took him a few to catch up to you. Your breath hitched when your back hit the wall and he leaned down, his arms trapping you in and leaving no escape.
Not that you want to escape.
“B-Ban?” You whispered as he looked at your lips. He put his face in the crook of your neck and moaned.
He fucking moaned.
“God, I love it when you say my name like that.” 
Gaining a sudden surge of confidence, you spoke again. “I can say it as many times as you want,” you told him after gaining a sudden surge of confidence. Leaning in so your lips grazed the shell of his ear, you whispered seductively, “Ban.”
The confident and more dominant nature you started to hold slipped through your fingers as he let his sharp teeth graze along the soft spot on your neck while his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against him. You whimpered as you melted into his embrace and you could feel his smirk against your skin. 
“Pretty girl, do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” He teased, but there was a more serious undertone in his voice as he asked and leaned back to look you in the eyes. 
You brought your arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. His forehead rested against yours as you looked at his lips to avoid his intense scarlet gaze. “Maybe not exactly,” you confessed and leaned forward so your lips brushed against his. “But I want it anyway.”
“Fuck,” he whispered before closing the gap between the two of you and kissing you. Your fingers laced through his hair and you pulled him closer. You gasped when you felt his finger circle your thighs and lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he straightened up to his full height and kissed you more comfortably. 
He took advantage of your momentary surprise and entered his tongue into your mouth. You moaned around it as the two of you went to war with your mouths, struggling for dominance. He leaned off the wall, bringing you with him as he quickly walked over to your bed and threw you down. You gave a slight yelp at the sudden drop and looked up at him. Your lips were swollen and your breathing was ragged from the intense kiss. Sitting up, you put a finger through the belt loop of his pants and pulled him closer, feeling confident enough to look him straight in the eyes. 
You saw the way his eyes darkened as he kneeled on the bed, crawling until his face lined up with yours. 
“God, I just want to fuck you in this outfit. I do love a woman in uniform,” he exclaimed and you could feel the heat in your core rising. He leaned his face into your neck again, although this time he didn’t only skim his teeth along the column of your neck, he bit down. You let out a moan that quieted to a whimper when he did. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood but it was hard enough for you to feel the sharp points of his canines. 
Oh, how you wished he would bite down just a little harder. 
“You want me to go harder?” He asked you from where his head was still buried in your neck. He started kissing and sucking at your skin, unbuttoning your top and pulling part of it off to reveal your shoulder. 
Taking a breath to calm your racing heart, you whimpered out a small, “Mhm.”
He smirked. “Good girl.”
He marked you all along your neck and shoulders, even going along the valley between your breasts and marking the flesh there. You had barely even noticed he continued to go further down your body until you felt his hot breath against your panties. Panicking at his possible reaction, you tried to squeeze your thighs shut but his hands held you open for his viewing pleasure. Sliding your panties down your legs tortuously slow, he tucked them into his pocket. 
“Wha-?” You protested but he shushed you, his hands squeezing the fat of your thighs and getting dangerously close to your heat. 
“I’ll have King make you some new ones or something,” he reassured you. 
You were about to protest more but the feeling of his lips caressing your inner thigh made all the thoughts in your head drift away. 
“Please,” you whispered to him after his continuous teasing. He constantly got closer to your core only to skip over it and switch to teasing and marking the other thigh. 
“You got it, pretty girl,” he relented and you let out a sigh of a moan when his lips finally met your clit. Bringing a hand down to his head, you weaved your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer as you began to grind against his tongue. “Fuck, you taste so good, Doll. Could stay between these thighs forever,” he praised and you clenched around nothing. You let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue enter you, his nose rubbing against your clit as he pumped his tongue in and out of your cunt. 
“Fu-uck,” you moaned brokenly. “Fuck, Ban. You feel so fucking good, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged and praised him. His finger squeezed your thighs harder and he moaned into you. 
It wasn’t long before you felt the knot tightening in your core and you warned him of what was to come. 
“Cum for me, Doll,” he encouraged, wrapping your legs around his head as he dug his tongue into you deeper, the long muscle hitting all the right spots inside of you to have you seeing stars. You did as told and came into his mouth. He stayed where he was for several minutes, lapping up your release as you came down from your high. “Shit, that was so hot.”
You blushed at his words and he chuckled, kissing your thighs before crawling back up to be hovering above your face. You grabbed the back of his neck and brought his lips onto your own in a slow, sensual kiss. It was so slow and distracting that you didn’t notice Ban pulling his pants down to his knees until suddenly he grabbed you by the waist and flipped your positions. He now leaned against the headboard of the bed while you hovered above his very above-average cock. He used a hand to hold it and drag the tip through your folds. He grinned and bit your lip when you moaned into his mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you, Doll?” He asked teasingly, barely slipping the tip of his dick through your folds before pulling out and focusing on circling your clit. 
“So badly,” you whimpered into his mouth and he groaned, the smirk on his face growing while precum started gathering on the tip of his dick, mixing with your release as he swirled them around. 
Without another word, he thrusted his hips up and buried his cock to the hilt in your heat. You moaned simultaneously at the feeling.
“So full~” you moaned out, leaning forward to capture his lips in another kiss.
“So tight,” he moaned out in return, allowing you to control the kiss while he controlled your hips to raise and fall along his dick. You could feel every vein, every twitch, every ridge of his cock inside you. It was almost too much but you couldn’t get enough of it. 
“Fuck, you’re so good for me, all for me. You’re mine, yeah?” He practically begged, whining in your ear now that he was finally inside of you. After months of pining, months of fucking his fist at the thought of you. Finally, finally, he had you in his grasp. “Say you’re mine, Doll.”
“I’m yours. Always been yours, Ban,” you confessed and stared deeply into his eyes. The two of you held eye contact as you both inched closer to your releases. The orgasms built inside you, the knot tightening and tightening. Ban moved his thumb so it pressed right against your clit and that was the final push you needed. You moaned, muffling it by kissing him as he continued to move your body for him. You whimpered at the sensitivity, but god, it felt so good. 
“You were fucking made for me. Just me. No one else’s. Just mine,” he growled out in your mouth and you could barely process his words, going dizzy with pleasure. With a few more pumps inside you, he came and slowly came to a stop. 
Falling forward onto his chest, he brought his arms up to encircle your waist and smooth his hands up and down your back. 
“Maybe we can make King pay up late, yeah?” He asked playfully, but you could hear the genuine question underneath. 
“Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea,” he playfully told him in return and he smiled at you, kissing your forehead. 
The tavern may have been chefless but in that moment, neither of you really cared. 
509 notes · View notes
yuzurins · 11 months
Text
# i’m smitten with the thought of you
itoshi rin x gn!reader. sae and rin don’t have an estranged relationship. childhood friends to (eventual) lovers. crack don’t take this too srsly pls
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“rin, say ahh!” you hold out a spoonful of cake in front of his face.
“shut the fuck up.” rin pouts, turning his head away from you.
you snicker, but your hand doesn’t falter. “come on! you know you want it~” you tease, dragging the end of the sentence as if you were talking to a small child.
he keeps his mouth shut, and you gush internally at the fact that he’s blatantly sulking. rin will never beat the allegations for being the cutest boy ever, even if he’s not the same as the sweet little boy you knew years ago.
desperately trying to hold back a laugh, you purse your lips and mimic rin’s little pout. “you used to listen to me much more obediently when you were younger.”
“you-“ you shoved the spoon into his mouth as soon as you get the chance. rin reluctantly complies but is quick to complain after. “that’s foul!”
you raise an eyebrow. “and that’s what the naughty boys get. tsk tsk.”
it’s obvious you don’t understand how wrongly your words could be interpreted by the way your expression stays unwavering. perhaps it was your dense disposition, or the fact that you’ve known rin since he was a kid in preschool.
rin thinks he’s being — and has been — painfully obvious about his feelings, yet you still fail to notice the faint blush creeping onto his face. even sae found out about it, and rin had to fight for his life to defend himself.
“rin. that’s practically incest-“
“oh my god nii-chan, you know that’s not true!”
sae can think you’re like a sibling to him, but rin doesn’t. in fact, he has never. he can’t deny that he’s had a crush on you the moment you were introduced to him as sae’s friend, and though it might seem like it was just puppy love, his current actions can prove that it isn’t.
“and you used to be so well-behaved back then.” you sigh dramatically. “did you know you would stick to me all the time, and get super jealous whenever i did anything with sae?”
the younger boy scoffs, standing up to go get a drink of water to make sure he doesn’t go insane from your ruthless teasing.
“hey! don’t run away!” you smile, eyes twinkling in amusement, as you get up to follow him. “it was really cute, i swear!”
choosing not the humour you, rin continues on with his task (that he could not care less about), humming in response.
you stand next to him and watch, occasionally feeling the need to poke him. starting from his arm, you string a line of pokes all the way up to his face, where you change your stance to pinch his cheek, a frequent action of endearment you used to do when you were younger.
needless to say, you were not expecting rin to grab your hand so promptly. and you most definitely were not expecting him to then lean towards you, not stopping until his face was merely an inch away.
“woah-“ you exhale as you stumble back slightly. he’s close enough for you to study all the details of his face, from the strands of his hair to the sharp curve of his jaw. he towers over you, his broad shoulders wide enough to engulf you completely into his presence. it’s funny, this scene is the complete opposite of what it was like as children, your roles entirely switched.
your breath hitches as his gaze locks onto yours, showing you all his pent-up feelings over the years for the first time. he’s determined, you can tell at least that much, but what surprises you the most is how dilated his pupils are; his eyes are begging to let you know his story, one of his long, endless pining for you, and you only.
it goes without saying you weren’t ignorant enough to overlook the reality that rin grew up, that he’s matured now. would it be cowardly for you to admit that you have indeed taken notice of his feelings at times, but refused to act on them in fear of losing him? what if you were wrong? what if rin didn’t like you that way? there was too much on the line, and you didn’t want to risk every memory you’ve made with him and sae for the past 12 years.
like an unspoken condition between you two, rin also knows the risks. he knows, but he’s so smitten it’s driving him insane. you’re a risk that he’s willing to take, and he’s had his mind made up since the beginning.
“yeah?” he whispers. “how about now?”
dumbstruck, you nod absentmindedly in response. almost like you were under a spell, and rin was the mastermind enchanting you.
rin smirks at the sight of your face heating up and flushing to a light red. “you still think i’m cute, y/n?”
“the cutest ever.” you’re quick to recover, flashing a small smile of your own. shameless, but you refuse to concede now. “care to prove me wrong, itoshi?”
“what the fuck are you two doing in the kitchen, oh my god.” sae deadpans. “rin, please pick and choose a better time to confess your feelings, thanks.”
you jump. rin groans.
“you need to pick and choose a better time to interrupt, THANK YOU.” rin scowls, letting go of your hand. the sudden withdrawal of his warmth disappoints you, but you smile nonetheless hearing their brotherly antics.
sae’s impassive, walking in between the two of you to refill his own water. “you two forgot all about me, i was getting worried that rin might’ve killed y/n or something.”
“as if!” rin rolls his eyes. “get out of here, at least let me finish.”
shooting him a quick side-eye, sae smirks at his little brother. “okay loverboy, just make sure to not make a mess in the kitchen.” and he swiftly makes an exit before any further retaliation.
“i hate him.”
“you know you don’t.”
rin sighs, closing his eyes for a few seconds.“i guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”
you laugh, and grab his hand to play with his fingers, a not very subtle attempt to hide your beet red face. “think it was obvious enough, rinnie.”
his heart throbs at your use of his childhood nickname. “took you long enough.”
“so, will you continue to show me how cute you are?” you ponder as you look up at rin.
“stop treating me like a child, jeez.” and that pout is back onto his face once again. “i’ll show you anything you want, but i’ll make sure you won’t see me as just a cute little boy anymore.”
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a/n: this was so crack of me. not proofread btw i wrote this in one sitting. ^_^ @kouyun <3
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lokideservesahug · 2 months
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Always that good?
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Warnings: Swearing some French but I didn't use translate so it's probably all wrong. One mention of 'the deed' but it's brief. Brief mentions of drinking/being tipsy. I'm sorry if you have a pizza/garlic bread allergy😔
Notes: Its white fast paced and I'm not as happy with this peice as I have been wit others but here we go... 1/4 SMAU 3/4 writing so sorry if that's not your thing. Also I don't think I wrote this with anything gender specific but pls tell me if it isn't gender neutral!
Summary: You've been best friends with Arthur for over a year now... so why does his brother look so good?
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For a man who supposedly strictly sticks to his diet, Charles was all to eager to get his hands on the greasy concoctions you brought with you. He also didn't seem to dislike spending the evening as just the two of you. Neither did you but part of that was because the garlic bread was to die for.
As the night progressed, the Monagasque brought some beers from the Arthur's fridge. Despite you chastising him for stealing from his brother, Charles said that his brother wouldn't care and the beers could always be replaced. So, the two of you began to drink some beer along with your dinner. At some point along the way, the television was turned on but you weren't paying attention to it at all. All you could focus on was Charles. The way his eyelashes fluttered to a close as he took another sip; the way his addams apple bobbed slightly at the same time.
If you could get away with it, you would would stare into his eyes forever. They were captivating. The same man you were admiring then begins to break the silence by starting up conversation.
"This is very nice pizza. Where is it from?" "The pizza parlour just down the road, they've only just stared allowing people to take meals to go though." You see him nod in understanding at your words.
Before you can find yourself staring at him any longer and risking making it wierd, you turn your attention towards the television. As the programme changes, you find yourself gasping. You can almost feel the man next to you giving you a curious look but as the title to your favourite television show comes on screen, he laughs in understanding.
This pulls your attention back to him and you ask "What?" He doesn't even miss a beat before he replies "Nothing. You're just endearing" he finishes the remark with a smile. You can feel your cheeks heat as you respond "Sorry. It's my favourite show" this pulls a laugh out of him. "No need to apologise chérie and like I said, it's sweet."
This causes you to look down. You turn and face the television but continue to speak to the man next to you. You occasionally turn to him whilst speaking. "It's been a very long time since I've seen this. Arthur pays for different channels to me and with everything these days, the rights shows are always swapping between people and channels."
You didn't catch Charles' smile drop but you did notice his slightly deflated sounding tone "I'm surprised you dont live with him then." This causes you to pause. I mean yeah Arthur's your best friend but that doesn't mean you should live together- especially not with your difference in music tastes. You'd probably strangle him for listening to the same, boring, simple songs for hours on end before you could even finish the first week of living together.
"Hm? Why would I do that" Your enquiry causes his brows to furrow and he asks "Oh. Are you not at that stage in your relationship yet." Relationship? What does he-? Oh no...Oh no... Oh no.
You simultaneously visibly deflate and start laughing after his words sink in. Charles, who clearly finds it nowhere near as funny asks "What. Why are you laughing?"
"You- you" Unable to finish your sentence without it ending in a fit of cackles, you laughing some more, take some deep breaths and clarify the source of your amusement. "Charles, Arthur and I aren't dating. You know that right?" His lips form an 'O' and he looks down almost embarrassed as he shakes his head.
"But I've heard you saying that you ahd a thing for a Lecle-" He stops and grins as you both come to the realisation of what he's saying. Now it's your turn to look down in embarrassment and his to start laughing.
"Shut up." Your words clearly hold no weight and when you find him looking at you, eyes gleaming. You find yourself falling for him even more.
"So Chérie...you have a thing for Leclercs?" His eyebrows wiggle and when you both split into bursts of laughter, you could tell have dreamed of a better way to spend your evening.
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Thank you for reading! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Also my inbox is open if you ever have a request!
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee
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alittlebitofsainz · 2 months
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- you swear that you listened -
prompt: “so take me to every party and just talk to your friends.”
pairing: logan sargeant x reader
summary: why did he even bring you to meet his friends if he was going to forget you even existed? featuring an important conversation and a dog at the party
a/n: lyrics from track #65 - worst of you by maisie peters :)
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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“babe, what’s up with you? you’ve been quiet all night.”
“yeah, maybe it’s cos you didn’t talk to me for the entire time.” you shot back, both your words and tone harsher than you’d intended. logan was silent after that, and you stole a glance across to him sat in the passenger seat, immediately feeling guilty when you saw the wounded look on his face. you turned your gaze back to the road ahead with a heavy sigh.
it wasn’t really your fault that you were in such a bad mood; it had been your first time meeting a bunch of his childhood friends, stressful enough without the added bonus of you being the designated driver, so you had had to watch everyone slowly getting more and more intoxicated while you nursed the same diet coke for three hours straight. you’d offered to stay sober, but only because logan had emphasised that he hadn’t seen these friends in years, and it would be really nice to catch up with them over a beer, and you don’t really drink that much anyway, so you don’t mind driving, right?
“I don’t mind.” you’d said, because you knew logan had been having a tough season, and you wanted nothing more than to see him enjoying himself with his friends. and you. that had been the key part that was missing. you tried to join in on their conversations, you really did, but they were full of stories from the time before you even knew logan, sentences always seeming to start with “do you remember when…”. and every time you tried to speak up, to input something, the topic would change again, someone speaking over the top of you to remind the group of another funny anecdote from their past. you tried to catch logan’s eye, but to no avail, too wrapped up in old memories and the beer in his hand.
eventually you’d made an excuse about going to find the toilet, and disappeared off into a living room that no one was in. you weren’t even sure whether logan had noticed you were gone; you could still hear the ringing of his laughter drifting through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. at the least the dog came to find you. dogs were always the best thing at parties.
the worst part was that you didn’t know how to handle this. it had never happened before, you weren’t used to it. logan was always so attentive, so loving, so caring. he never failed to tell you, or show you, how much you really meant to him, his light shining through the darkness that had been this rollercoaster of a season. but around his friends, he just seemed different. like he’d forgotten you were even there.
the silence lasted the rest of the drive home. you once risked a glance across to logan, but his head was turning away, chin resting in his hand, his elbow propped against the passenger window, looking out at the world passing by as if he was deep in thought. from this angle, you couldn’t read his expression. you didn’t know if you even wanted to.
“I’m sorry, please, y/n, if I’ve done something wrong…”
logan tried again as you entered his apartment, his words slurred slightly, reminding you that now wasn’t time for this conversation when he was several beers deep and you were stone cold sober.
“really, lo, it’s…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it’s fine, so you just shook your head instead. “let’s just talk about it in the morning, okay?” you murmured, catching a glimpse of his crestfallen expression as you passed by him, a sight that made your heart ache. you both got ready for bed without speaking again, the tension in the air uncomfortable.
and when morning rolled around and the sun filtering through the curtains woke you from sleep, you found yourself still reluctant to talk about it. you rolled over, turning to face logan, only to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you.
“you were mad at me.”
you bit back a sarcastic good morning to you too. now was not the time.
“what?” you tried feigning ignorance, voice quiet.
“last night, you were mad at me.” logan repeated, and you realised you weren’t getting out of this one. “why? I don’t get it; did you not have a good time?”
you blinked, letting his word settle in your mind, before your brows folded into a soft frown.
“you didn’t even notice?” you murmured, knowing what the answer would be.
“notice what?” logan’s face scrunched up in confusion, searching back through his memories, desperately trying to remember something specific in the haze of what had happened last night. you sighed. it was the answer you’d been expecting, and dreading.
“I left, like, halfway through. went and sat in the living room. alone.” you explained, trying to spell it out for him. logan’s confused expression deepened.
“w- wha- why?” he stuttered, propping himself up on his elbow, “baby, you should’ve told me if you weren’t having a good-“
“I tried to!” you cut him off sharply, tone growing exasperated, “I tried to, but I couldn’t get your attention. not even for two minutes. it felt like I wasn’t even there.”
he opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to argue back with. now that he thought about it, you were right. he had barely noticed you, once he was surrounded by his friends and stories of old times, and he felt fucking awful about it.
“I’m sorry. oh, fuck, babe, I really am sorry.” he stammered, trying to get all his apologies out at once, words tripping out over his tongue. you both appreciated and hated seeing him so remorseful; you knew you couldn’t just let it slide, or it would only happen again and make you feel worse, but at the same time you knew logan was genuinely sorry.
“it’s okay, lo.” you reached out a hand, taking his in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. he drew in a soft breath, as if he expected a fight instead of forgiveness, and when his eyes met yours again they were glistening with unshed tears of remorse, “it was an accident, I know you didn’t mean to. everyone makes mistakes, right? we’re learning together.” you continued, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched him relax slightly, tension leaving his shoulders. he nodded, ducking his head away to try and hide the tear thar had slipped down his cheek.
“right,” he agreed shakily, “I’m still sorry I made you feel forgotten about, really. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“I know.” you replied softly, releasing his hand from yours and instead holding out both your arms as a silent invitation. logan was only too happy to accept, shuffling across the bed towards you and burying his head into the crook of your neck, your arms securing around his back. you felt him take a deep breath into your shoulder, chest rising deeply before falling back down again.
“I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, voice muffled as he rested his cheek against your skin. you chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.
“I know. I love you too, Lo.”
a/n: i tried so hard to leave this on a more angsty ending but honestly i just can’t be mean to logan for more than five seconds he deserves happiness even if its just in fictional form
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fandomwritingbit · 11 months
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"Not so clever now , are you?"
Michael Afton x afab/smart mouth reader
Req: "Michael x fem reader where they are always going at it, reader has a smart mouth, but one day Mike just goes full dom on her and she goes completely sub."
Hi, @exverlysano I hope this is alright lmao, thank you so much for the request xx
Warnings: bad puns and smut
Morning: 
You watch your boyfriend turn his head to look out the rear window of his car whilst he reversed into a bay, noting that he looked good while he did it, his jaw sharp and shoulders broad. He clearly knew it too, because he hit you with a cocky smirk. When he was finished you open the door to check his positioning, laughing immediately. 
“You’re joking, Mikey, you can’t leave it like that. It’s wonky as.”
He mirrors you, cracking open the door, “What are you talking about? It’s fine.” He makes a point of closing the door again, loudly, looking at you as if you’re insane, becoming annoyed when you just match the stare.
Scoffing, you just shake your head. “Nah, it isn’t. It’s wonky. Won-key.” you tease, loving the crease between his brow. “But then again, it’s not the only thing that’s wonky is it?” you giggle, nudging him with your elbow.
He rolls his eyes at you, desperately trying not to give you a reaction because he knew how much it spurred you on. So you put your hand on his arm, using your best feigned apologetic face, “Sorry, Mikey… I know positioning has never been your strong suit.” you can’t make it through the sentence without grinning, and you don’t get it all out before he unclips his seatbelt and shoves the door open to step out. 
“Oh come on!” you laugh, “Come on, Mike - it’s funny!” he doesn’t think so, leaving you to grab your bag and rush out the car.
~
Afternoon:
You watch Michael playing fifa, it’s an online game, one that looks pretty intense too. So intense that even though he has a headset on you can hear the buzz of voices, no doubt swearing at each other in frustration. Seeing that the climax of the match isn’t far away, you sit down just inside his peripheral, watching the timer count down and the movement of his fingers becoming more frantic on the controller. 
You can see the crash from miles away, your lover talking loudly, “To me. To me, I’m open, come on. Yeah-” As the teammate obeys, Mike flummoxes, literally and metaphorically dropping the ball, screwing up the shot. The roar from his headset says it all. 
He turns to you, slowly pulling it from his head, the voices still buzzing, “Don’t.” His finger came up, trying to warn you, how cute. “Just don’t. I can’t believe-”
“You ballsed it up?” You say instantly, trying to stop your mouth from curling into your cheeky smile. When he doesn’t laugh, you double down. “Away, if you don’t think that’s a good joke then you’ve moved the goalpost.” 
“I’m serious, y/n. Don’t, I’m pissed off.” He starts to leave the room, but you catch his arm, looking up at him all innocent. 
“Yeah, I can see that…” You smile sympathetically, when his face softens your mind  practically vibrates with excitement. “As a treat why don’t I go and-” you crack, “score us some pizza.” He goes stiff under your grip and pulls himself away. 
“Absolutely fuck off. You don’t know when to quit, do you?” 
“Alright, Mike. No need to kick off.” 
~
Around 10pm it boiled over. 
Ever since you started dating Michael, you took the mick out of him 24-fucking-7, and you knew you could reasonably get away with it. He was too nice to you and given it was only poking fun he tried not to take it too seriously, and mostly he could just forget about the teasing in favour of the times when you’re soft and sweet. Like when you wake up and cuddle into him with no snarky remarks exchanged. When you make him a coffee and set it down beside him with no previous conversation. When you wrap your arms around his waist in public just to breathe his scent. 
But right now, he had enough. All day it had been non-stop, a quip here, some snarky criticism there, a joke at his expense. 
You’re minding your own business, sitting at a counter in the kitchen and scrolling on your phone, seeing him come in you flash him that cheeky grin, which perhaps normally would have made him smile back. But today he just looked past you to the dirty pots sitting at the side of the sink, instantly rolling his eyes. 
“Really? You can’t clean up after yourself?” he snaps, walking over to the sink and flipping the tap on full-whack out of anger, the water splashing you both. You jump back laughing, the cold seeping through your shirt, watching him turn it back off again, the pissed-off look not leaving his face. 
Standing on your tip-toes you wrap your arms around his neck from behind, devilish smirk still strong, “That’s not the way to go about making me wet, Mikey.” Your joke makes him tense under you, and even when you pressed a kiss against his cheek he didn’t soften. 
He let you slide around him and kiss him properly, your hands coming up to rub his chest. And it was tempting to let you take the lead and forgive you for all your teasing, especially when he felt himself twitch as your hands moved lower; then it occurred to him that he didn’t have to give in easily, he could make you work to earn his forgiveness.
His hand was suddenly rough in your hair, wrenching you against the counter where he again kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You moan against him, tugging at his shirt, this wasn’t like Michael at all, but you sort of liked it. You try to pull the fabric over his head and he grunts disapprovingly, shoving you against the counter harder, taking a handful of your tits. 
“Did I say you could do that?” he speaks against your lips before tilting his head to your neck, biting down on your flesh much harder than he usually would. 
“Ah-fuck.” you pant, struggling to keep up with him, as he pulls your trousers down around your ankles, “Since when did I have to ask?” you manage to bite back, before breaking into a moan as he sucked a mark on the underside of your jaw. 
Strong arms hook under you and lift you onto the kitchen counter, his foot prying the garments from around your ankles leaving them to fall to the floor. “Since now.” He says against your skin, so firmly that you giggle, this was a completely different look on him.
Your laughing provokes him to damn-near tear the shirt from your body, then force your bra high on your chest, leaving you all but completely nude in your kitchen, whilst the man in front of you stays fully clothed looking as close to menacing as he could. 
Michael drops down to the floor, surprisingly forceful hands spreading your legs for him and holding them firm. There he runs his fingers over your folds, eliciting a pitiful sound from you. “Look at you.” His tone is sharp and the words are spoken so close to your core it makes your stomach tense, “Only time you’re quiet is when I’m giving this pussy some attention. All you think about, huh?” You would have laughed again, if not for his tongue suddenly pressing against your nerves and sending a spark through your body. God, you wanted to complain and tell him he was moving too fast but your dripping heat was proof that you didn’t really mind it at all. 
Instinctively you grab his hair, a gasp escaping your lips as he sets a harsh pace of flicking between your clit and pressing into your hole. He takes hold of your wrist and pulls you from him, holding your hand against your thigh, looking up at you with a glare of warning that killed any thought of protest you had. 
“Yeah, nothing to say now.” He muttered, this idea of showing you who's boss now fully solidified in his head, the role coming to him easier than he would’ve thought. 
You only whine in response, feeling utterly pathetic but silently thrilled. This dominance was stirring you hardcore, making a frantic coil in your core form quick and desperate. His sucking of your clit is both not enough and too much at the same time. And without his hair to hold on to, you find yourself bruising your own skin with your grip, being shoved to your end by the now brutal movement of his tongue. It hits you like a tonne of bricks, non-existent purchase making your toes curl with the waves of pleasure he just wrought from you. He grunts when he feels you clench, the reminder of how tight you’d feel around him causing pre-cum to leak from his tip. 
With no time to get your bearings, he yanks you off the counter and you habitually wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you towards your bedroom, not really knowing what you were getting into. 
“Mikey, what’s come over you?” you gasp when he tosses you down onto the bed, looking big and scary over you. 
He looks down at you with an almost bored expression on his face, undoing his belt as he answers, “Just tired of your shit.” 
You blink, “You can’t be seri- Mike, I only joke like that because you usually take it so well-”
“Then, how about you take it well right now, huh?” 
You’re giggling again when he takes hold of your ankles to pull you closer to him. The sight of him slowly stroking his cock making your pussy flutter with the knowledge of his size, made worse by the harsh look of his face.  
Oddly, he takes his time, dragging the head of his dick through your slick, using it to stroke himself, before notching in your entrance slowly. He just loved how your breath hitched as he sunk in, he’d never tire of the feeling of you stretching for him and right now it tasted doubly sweet.
The familiar feeling of him inside you made you moan. But something about his calmness was stirring you, making you impatient for him to fully bury inside you, so you reach forward to grab his forearms, pulling at him. And it was like a switch flipped in his brain, why the hell do you still think this is your game? Has he not been clear enough? 
Without a word exchanged, he begins thrusting into you roughly, a grunt punctuating every time he fully sheathes, his cock shoving into the part of you that made you come undone so perfectly. He takes hold of your legs and pulls them upwards to see the view of your cunt taking him in, your greediness evident in your pooling slick and the pretty noises you’re making.  
You’re blinded by his near-ruthless pace, his hips snapping into yours with a force you’d never seen from him and it left you feeling fucking stupid. The mix of your squeaks and moans and the lewd sound of his action are close to chaos, so much so that you hardly register Michael talking.
“Ah-not so clever now, are you?” 
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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year
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the walls are thin - ch5
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in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch5 | next [masterlist]
// overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7955 ᴡᴏʀᴅs
a look into this chapter: oops, 18+ minors dni eventual smut, masturbation, incessant flirting (as always), msby besties, oh we're doing this already?, feelings are confusing but developing, drinking, frustrating a bit sorry abt that, she/her pronouns
send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
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“i miss you,” he complains. you’d think you’d have gotten used to that phrase coming out of his mouth by now, but you can still feel your skin tingle. you roll your eyes nonetheless. 
“it’s not even been a full day,” you retort. 
he mulls over this for a minute before deciding that you’re wrong, “not true.”
“i think it is,” you say, “but even if it has been a full day, that’s kinda…,” you trail off, “pathetic?” 
he laughs, the pang in your heart telling you that maybe it isn’t so pathetic to miss somebody after not seeing them for a few tens of hours. you smile at him, eyes moving away from his gaze after just a few seconds. 
“i miss you too, maki,” you reciprocate. 
“not so pathetic after all,” he points at you through the phone. 
you purse your lips to the side, thoughtful, “no, still pathetic i think, just from both sides.”
“yea, fair,” he says, flipping over in his bed, lying on his side, messy hair against his pillow in a way that you’ve seen in person a few too many times. he called you this morning before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. “so, what did you even do last night without me?”
“well, i was planning on staying in and spending all weekend by myself,” you start, “but i actually went over to atsumu’s last night.”
“you? hung out with atsumu? on a friday night? what kinda things did you have to do for that to happen?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. 
“nothing,” you sneer at him, “he’s the one that suggested it actually.”
“yea, and how did that go?” he asks, tiny tinge of jealousy hidden behind the sarcasm at the end of the sentence.
“weirdly good. i thought he might try to make a move or something, but we just kinda hung out,” you explain, maybe omitting the parts where you fell asleep on his chest and told him that you think about him all the time. 
“and what are you up to tonight?” all of the questions that he keeps asking about your weekend are making you miss him even more, because the answer is nothing but you wish the answer was hanging out with maki.
you sigh dramatically, “well, you guys left me, so i’m having lunch with atsumu, but i’m on my own tonight. which isn’t bad actually, going to just spend some time alone, get caught up on assignments, whatever.”
“i’d probably be having more fun with you,” he admits.
“what? not going good over there?” you ask.
“no, it’s a blast. i’ve missed these guys and it’s been super fucking fun. last night, hajime convinced oikawa to jump in the lake with him and because oikawa was really drunk, he did it, but hajime didn’t jump with him and oikawa was really pissed. swear to god he almost drowned. it was really great,” maki laughs at the thought and then responds to your concerned look, “he didn’t drown, yn, calm down, it was funny.”
“and i’ve got to catch up with people that i haven’t seen since high school,” maki shrugs, pausing, “but i mean, they’re not you.”
you’re about to react, some form of i get that coming out of your mouth as there is a harsh knock on maki’s door. “come in,” maki answers. 
from off screen, you hear oikawa mumble something. it’s quiet. you’re not sure you could’ve made it out if you hadn’t previously spent so much time with oikawa. “hajime wants to go to the diner to get food, get dressed.” 
“alright, alright, i’m just gonna say bye to yn,” maki says, sitting up in his bed. 
there’s a loud squeak of the mattress as oikawa jumps on the bed, you assume. “yn! how is everything back there? making it by without us?”
“it’s been one day, guys,” you groan, jokingly. “but it’s good. i’m good.”
“yn hung out with atsumu last night,” maki says. it sounds like a tattle. 
oikawa tilts his head to the side, “last night?” he’s sporting a devious smile as he pounces on maki, both hands covering maki’s ears as he says hushed, “and how did it go?”
a blush rises to your cheeks at the whole spectacle. maki is trying to push oikawa off of him and oikawa, surely used to testing iwaizumi in the same ways, is able to hold his ground. “good, it went good!” you reply in a laugh.
“and? did anything happen?” 
“no! stop it!” you say, watching as maki finally throws oikawa off of him. 
“okay! okay!” oikawa has both of his hands up in defeat, sliding off of the bed and walking towards the door. “10 minutes, maki, we’re leaving in 10.” the door closes off screen.
maki shakes his head, slightly out of breath, “i gotta go, but i’ll talk to you later, okay? i’ll text you.”
you nod. “and i’ll see you sunday?” you ask.
he tilts his head, questioning, “it hasn’t even been a full day. kinda pathetic.”
“fine,” you say, calling his bluff.
“no! i’ll see you sunday, loser,” he says quickly, “god, let me make fun of you for being obsessed with me once in a while.”
you can’t stop smiling. “alright, alright. see you sunday, maki. can’t wait.”
“can’t wait,” he repeats and then hangs up.
&lt; 11:21 pm < have a good day ♡
> maki ♡ / 11:21 pm > you too ♡
/++/
you’ve forgone yours and atsumu’s lawn blanket set up as per his request, which you weren’t really expecting. after the events of last night, you assumed he might want to have the space to be close to you. maybe not. 
you didn’t ask questions, just chose a familiar picnic table and sat on the side that you knew you could watch atsumu approach from. 
and you do, eyes on him as he walks towards you. he cuts through the lawn, deviating from the concrete path, throwing a smile your way when he recognizes that you’re watching him. 
“yknow it’s almost getting too cold to keep sitting out here,” you say as he approaches, gesturing to your spot on the lawn. your spot. you cross your arms over one another, shivering slightly. fall is settling in, the semester more over than it is started.
he walks around to your side of the bench and sits beside you. you’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, making you feel this flustered. when he takes his jacket off, the same one that you met him in, the same one that was hanging on the back of his chair last night, and presents it in front of you, you know that he must be doing this on purpose. 
“are you really giving me your jacket right now?” you ask, mind screaming at you to just grab it. “we’re not in a cheesy rom-com.”
“are ya cold or not?” he asks, extending it a bit further. 
“yes,” you mutter, grabbing it from him and sliding it on. “thank you, tsumu.” you’re enveloped with him, soft fabric infused with his clean scent, and you’re not sure you’re going to give this back, so you hope it’s not that important to him. “it’s cute that your accent comes out when you’re short,” you point out. 
“shuddup,” he says, shaking his head. you scooch over closer to him, legs pressed together. he throws his arm around your shoulder, picks at your lunch, and you’re very aware at how much of a couple you look like right now. it’s quiet, peaceful.
he breaks the silence with a sentence that you’re confused by how he thought it was a good idea, “don’t be mad.”
you immediately face him, expression contorted into confusion and maybe a bit of anger for no reason other than what else are you supposed to feel when someone prefaces with that?
he explains, “i’ve been thinking about what you said last night and-“
“TSUM TSUM!!” 
you jump at the loud voice and nickname. you can’t locate the source so you swivel your head. you search for whoever is calling for atsumu while he continues to explain, “so maybe i told my friends that i think they could meet you and we were getting lunch today.”
“bo, come on, you said you’d be chill,” another voice, a different voice, says. 
“and maybe they didn’t even let me explain, just said they would be there and maybe were a bit too enthusiastic about it?” he shrugs.
you spot the source now, the same buff man from the selfie smiling at you wide and waving excessively. you offer a small wave back. 
“me? meet your friends?” you ask, shocked. you obviously were about to meet his friends. they were crossing the lawn as you spoke. 
“i meant it last night, i just didn’t know you wanted to meet them,” atsumu says plainly. “and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” ba-bump. 
you nod, because you’re certain that if you tried to speak, your words would come out jumbled. 
the two men take a seat across from you. the man with black and white hair beams, “it’s so great to meet you finally. we told him, said she’d probably love to meet us, but i think he’s just been embarrassed about us or something.”
“yn, this is bokuto,” atsumu introduces you. 
“and i’m sakusa,” the man with black hair and curly hair says, introducing himself. 
“it’s really great to meet you both,” you offer.
“hinata is going to be so sad he missed this,” bokuto says, “missing out on finally meeting the girl tsum tsum’s been talking about for weeeeeeks.”
“that’s enough,” atsumu says, shaking his head as he uses his free hand to shake it in front of bokuto. 
“bo’s right,” sakusa reasons, “atsumu does talk about you a lot.”
“guys, see, this is exactly why i didn’t want you to meet her, god,” atsumu says, clearly embarrassed, not used to being on defense around you, not like this. 
bokuto and sakusa are just smiling. 
“she deserves to know,” sakusa reasons, gesturing towards you. 
“yea, i deserve to know,” you speak up. there’s a prideful smile on sakusa’s face.
“never letting you guys interact again,” atsumu shakes his head, scrapes his fingers against your hip in a way that almost makes you jump. you can hear the lightness in his voice and when you turn to look at him, you can see the smallest warm smile. 
“so how do you guys know tsumu?” you ask, nickname slipping out just on instinct. 
neither of them tease you for it explicitly, but they do exchange a knowing look. if you were closer to them you could decipher the hidden meaning of she said it. she said the name. 
“volleyball,” bokuto says, “we all met at volleyball. atsumu is our setter. but also now our best bud.”
“yknow, i don’t think i’ve actually ever asked anything about your volleyball stuff,” you say to atsumu, putting your hand on his knee. you’ve always just talked about it vaguely, no real details. 
“but he's the volleyball guy,” sakusa smirks. 
“no-,” atsumu says.
“yeah! that’s what that guy called you? right?” bokuto asks. atsumu is about to interrupt again, a last-ditch plea on his face, but bokuto doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it, “maki.” your best friend’s name comes out of this stranger’s mouth in a mocking tone and oh my god atsumu talks shit about maki to his teammates/close friends.
there are a million ways you could react to this statement, stammering and stumbling over your words as you land on a sharp laugh. “i- you-,” you can’t stop laughing, “is that? does atsumu-.” you really can’t talk. 
“what?!” atsumu asks as if he has any room to be the one questioning you.
“you just,” tears are forming at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his shoulder, forehead against his jacketless skin, “fuckin- it got to you that badly?” you turn your attention towards bokuto, “is that how he said it?” 
bokuto, ever the betrayer of atsumu, nods his head. 
“quit it,” atsumu says, less shocked and embarrassed now, your laughter infecting him. “that’s how he said it.” there’s a smile behind the words, soft laughter coming along with it. when you don’t stop laughing for another few seconds, and then a few more, atsumu wraps his arms around you, smothering him in his strong arms. “yer being ridiculous.”
you push away from him and in between your fits of simmering down laughter, subsiding for only a few seconds at a time before picking back up again, you catch the smile on sakusa’s face that says so clearly that you can tell without knowing him at all, so this is why he can’t stop talking about you.
once you’ve finally composed yourself, you turn to sakusa and bokuto, “and you guys play?”
“we both play outside hitter,” sakusa explains, looking like he’s about to elaborate a bit further, but atsumu interrupts.
“since i’m the setter, that means that i’m kinda like the brains of the operation.”
“oh, fuck off, miya,” sakusa says, rolling his eyes. 
you laugh, “i know what a setter does.”
“how? we’ve never talked about it?”
“well, no, but i’ve seen maki play plenty of times,” you note, “oikawa’s a setter. maki and iwa play outside hitter. you didn’t know they played too?”
“oh my god, they’re both the volleyball guys,” sakusa comments, leaning back in his seat like he’s just had the biggest epiphany. 
“fuck off, omi,” atsumu sneers and then turns his attention back to you, “you never told me.”
you put your hands up, “i don’t know! i guess it just never came up.”
bokuto reaches out his arm, grabbing your forearm excitedly. “well, one day you’ll have to come watch us play, yn,” he says, smiling brightly at you. 
“i would really love that, actually. tsumu’s never invited me to one of his games before, so,” you say, shrugging. honestly, it had never been a thought on your mind before, a lot of things hadn’t been on your mind before, but now that you’re sitting here with his very fun friends, you really want to be a part of it all. a part of this side of his life, not the one that you’ve created and pulled him into, lunches and tiny meet ups and dragging him to the grocery store and having him babysit your plants, but whatever this is that’s making your chest feel so light. 
“or let you meet us,” sakusa chimes in. 
“yea, for good fuckin’ reason,” atsumu quips back.
“well, consider yourself officially invited to our next game,” bokuto nods, “here, give me your number and we can-.”
“no way,” atsumu interjects. 
you’re already reaching into your bag, pulling out your phone, ready to punch in bokuto’s phone number. 
“i really don’t need you guys to have more ways to talk shit about me,” atsumu says, but there’s no malice in the words. 
“i wasn’t going to talk shit about you, tsum tsum,” bokuto rolls his eyes, offering out his hand for you to drop your phone into. atsumu is skeptical as he lets you give your phone over to bokuto. as soon as his fingers curl around the phone, bokuto finishes his thought, “but there are plenty of cute photos of you that i have that don’t seem very fair for yn not to have.”
atsumu lunges forward to grab the phone out of bokuto’s hand, but bokuto pulls it back quickly. “bokkun, i swear to god,” atsumu says, standing up as best he can while still being inside of the bench. bokuto is already two steps ahead, springing from his seat, nearly hitting sakusa as he does. 
“watch it,” sakusa warns. 
bokuto is gone, running away as he presses buttons on your phone. atsumu is much more careful on his side, makes sure to unravel from you before stepping out of his seat. “i’m not kidding!” despite the head start bokuto acquired, atsumu is already almost on his heels. bokuto is laughing, head thrown back as he messes with your phone. 
sakusa takes this moment of chaos to talk to you directly. his voice pulls you out of this awestruck daze watching atsumu jump on bokuto’s back. “i can see why he talks about you all the time,” sakusa says lowly across the table as bokuto runs in circles with atsumu on his back as if he weighs nothing at all.
you’re feeling a bit more confident at this sentence, a bit more easily yourself, so you let it slip as you turn to face sakusa, joking as you say, “what? i’ve proven how cool i am in this tiny lunch?”
sakusa chuckles, breathy, before nodding affirmingly, “not exactly what i meant, but yes, that too.” he pauses, contemplating if the thing he’s about to say next is pushing a boundary, saying too much, figuring out how to phrase it before it actually comes out of his mouth. “i meant more that i understand why he talks about you all the time.”
you’re quiet, tilting your head curiously. 
he doesn’t let you sit on your thoughts, finishes his sentence right as bokuto and atsumu are running back towards the table, “because he’s really into you.”
you don’t get to respond, interrupted by bokuto hiding on one side of you, finishing whatever he’s doing on his phone before thrusting the phone back into your hands. he sticks his tongue out at atsumu and atsumu narrows his eyes. “atsumu’s just worried that he’s going to fuck up at our game when you’re there.”
this is all so cute, the bantering and the things that bokuto is saying, but you have so many fucking questions. you want them to run back over there for hours so that you can have a long, in-depth conversation with sakusa about what exactly he fucking means. 
you don’t want to seem unresponsive or like you can’t keep up, so you reply, “maybe i’ll bring maki along and he can show off like he always does.” you almost regret it, but sakusa and bokuto start laughing just like you were laughing earlier and bokuto is slamming his fist on the table and atsumu doesn’t look hurt at all, he looks amiable. 
you turn your head towards atsumu, the laughter allowing you cover to speak just for him, “or i’ll just go and cheer you on. if you’ll have me there.” atsumu gives you a short, affectionate nod. 
sakusa and bokuto leave about a half hour (that’s spent mostly making fun of atsumu the entire time) after that, saying that they’ll see you again soon, they’re sure, and waving as they leave. as soon as they’re out of earshot, atsumu lets out a huge breath. 
“i told you,” he says, shaking his head, body finally relaxed in a way that makes you realized he was tense the entire time. “i told you that they were fucking weird.”
“they’re not weird, they’re sweet,” you say back. there is a certain peacefulness now that you assume only exists because of the huge absence of noise. it’s not better, just more familiar. you slot your fingers into atsumu’s, holding onto his forearm with your other hand. 
“yea, if you’re not on the other side of all of their bullshit,” atsumu shakes his head. 
“maybe if you didn’t talk about me so much,” you tease.
“don’t let it go to your head,” he says, lifting his arm that you don’t have a hold of and tapping on your forehead. you press your forehead into him, laughing. 
the two of you sit together for another few hours, pulling work out of your bags that neither of you really focus on. you mostly spend the time cracking jokes at the other’s expense or for the other to laugh at and finding new ways to get tangled into each other on a picnic table bench until it’s time to leave.
“i’ll see you sometime tomorrow, yeah?” you ask, moving around school work and responsibilities and seeing maki in your head to make room for atsumu in your day.
he leans forward, presses the quickest, smallest kiss into the side of your cheek, “obviously.” as he leaves, the warmth stays, on your cheek and down your chest, through your fingers and toes. partially because of the kiss, sure, but mostly because of the hoodie he’s entrusted in your care. 
/++/
you are both so excited for and dreading your night alone.  you are excited because it’s been awhile since you’ve just had some time in your room by yourself. you are welcoming the extra time to catch up on assignments and take a shower and not do anything else that requires thinking. 
you are, however, despite all of this, mostly filled with dread. saturday night is a staple miya atsumu hookup night. last week it was fine, the week before that, sure, whatever, but after last night, the thought of atsumu hooking up with some random girl that he found out at a party is bringing back a familiarly upset stomach. if you hadn’t had spent the night last night as you did, a taboo listening session might even have been in the stars tonight, would have been maybe really welcomed. 
but now you’ve slept in his bed. you’ve been in his arms. you’ve been on the other side of the wall. there are memories attached to this vision of him now. when you close your eyes, you can see his room so clearly. if you had to think about them in his bed, the one that you felt safe cuddled next to him in, the one where he told you about all of his childhood friends, if you had to think of her on his pillow instead of you? 
you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will have a great night all by yourself even if that means sleeping on the farside of your room and using your noise canceling headphones at full volume.
the later it gets into the night, the more antsy you’re getting. hours are ticking by and you have never been this productive in your life, assignment after assignment finished just to stop yourself from thinking for longer than a few seconds. you won’t have to worry about school work for the next few weeks. 
it’s nearly 1 am by the time that you’ve finished all of the work that you possibly can, which, in hindsight, was such a horrible idea. finishing all of your work before the 1-3 am time of the night? 
well, maybe if you’re just not in your room when he gets back, you can just put your headphones on and not have to think about it at all tonight. you grab a change of clothes, your towel, all of your bathroom essentials, and make your way to dorm showers at the other end of the hall. 
your shower takes much longer than it should because you make sure that it does, but somewhere along the way you must have pissed someone off, something from your past must be coming back to haunt you because instead of timing it perfectly to miss him completely, you’ve timed it perfectly to catch him completely. 
he’s all dressed up, hair perfectly done in a way that begs to be messed up, stupidly cute outfit, something plain but looks insanely good on him, enough cologne to fill the entire hallway, and, only when he sees you walking down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. 
you feel extremely underdressed, walking up to him. partially on account of the fact that you are wearing a huge tshirt, underwear, and absolutely nothing else. you don’t know if he’s already been drinking, if he doesn’t notice, or if he doesn’t care, but his eyes follow down your body slowly. 
every single moment in your life has happened because of a culmination of things; this is just a fact. everything that has happened in your life up until this moment has built up to this moment, that’s how living works. you knew this. 
but god you wish you could see a chart, could zoom in on every single point that had a hand in this moment and alter them in some sort of way that wouldn’t have caused you to say what comes out of your mouth. 
you look down at your phone screen, checking the time. “woah, you hung out with me on friday and no company tonight?” you ask as you step around him and in front of your door. why would you say that. 
you know why, vaguely, not completely. you’re not completely sure why you chose to essentially divulge the biggest secret you’re harbored of your entire college career in one sentence, but you know that it had something to do with how flustered you were in that moment, how good atsumu looks in front of you, and maybe the fact that it’s all you’ve been able to think about tonight.
it slips out, really, no barrier of judgment. you guys have been friends for too long. the quips and the teasing come so naturally now that you can’t help it. 
this is the first time that you’re admitting this to him. your heart is pounding as you wait for him to respond. he’s not responding quick enough. you hope that he just doesn’t clock it, doesn’t understand the implications of the joke.
he furrows his eyebrows together, stopping completely, “what?”
your body is burning. how do you backtrack from this. where do you go from here.
when you don’t answer immediately, his mind starts filling in the blanks, and he starts asking more questions, “company?”
“yea, like,” you clear your throat, shifting your towel under your arm, “y’know saturday nights and company.”
he turns to face you completely and you feel like this is your first time meeting him. you feel small, tiny, chest aching because of the violence of your heart. even more so when you see the embarrassment creeping onto his face. “how would you know if i have company?”
this is it. the fucking moment. it’s been over 4 months. the two of you have lived next to each other for nearly an entire semester. you went 2 months without even knowing him, 1 month with fixing all of your previously conceived notions, and this past month falling for him and it’s all about to go crashing down because of a stupid joke you’ve made. 
“you weren’t exactly subtle about it,” you answer and you’re amazed at how your voice is actually audible. 
a lot of things click for atsumu in that moment, you can see it on his face. 
“you heard that?” he asks, quietly stunned.
“all of it,” you answer.
it’s quiet for a moment. you can’t even hear the hum of the lights or the beat of your own heart as you wait for his reaction to the admission. 
“fuck,” atsumu says, palm smoothing over his face, “god, i can’t recover from that at all can i? holy shit.” he doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him. he doesn’t look put off or uncomfortable. “holy shit. okay. well, fuck.”
you’re about to apologize when he shakes his head, fingers pushing through his hair. you can’t exactly read whatever emotion is there, maybe panic? you can’t get a good read because it’s gone soon thereafter. 
“no,” he says slowly, “i don’t have company tonight. was going to go out and drink with some friends, but i left my ID in my room.” he gestures to the keys in his hand, knuckles white around them. “you still alone this weekend?”
you nod, not really knowing what to do, where to go from here still. he’s not being weird. he’s trying to resume conversation with you, but something feels off. you want to say, “yea, i said i’d be alone all weekend, don’t you listen?” but any joke that comes to you feels too harsh, too out of place, terrified that it’ll end up an admission of something else.
“do you want-,” he begins to ask, but you shake your head so hard that you’re convinced you shake water droplets out of your hair and onto him. 
“no, no, are you kidding? i look like this,” you gesture down.
atsumu looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. fuck. you’ve really ruined things now. 
“go out with your friends,” you say, nodding your head down to the elevators. 
“we don’t have to go out,” atsumu adds.
“i’m not keeping you in on the weekend again,” you say, shifting your weight. “seriously, i’m okay alone tonight, you go on out.”
“do you want to drink?” he asks, persistent as always.
“tsumu, i told you, i’m not going out tonight,” you say. the nickname is muscle memory at this point and you’re glad that at least you have some sort of remnants of a few minutes ago. 
“just, here, we can drink here,” he gestures to his dorm room. you feel like a fucking freshman again. “if you don’t want to drink, that’s cool. i just-” he hesitates. it looks more difficult than it ever has, but he steps towards you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “it feels weird for the first time between us and i don’t think i can leave if you’re not feeling okay,” he finishes, overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be, and you feel so horrible.
“tsumu-,” you start, but he isn’t having any of it.
“i’m serious.”
“one drink,” you say, “and then you go out with your friends.”
/++/
the thing about one drink is that nobody really has one drink. 
or, rather, you do at first and then you have another because the guy that you’re really into is in front of you, telling joke after joke trying to make you feel better about your relationship because you’ve just admitted that you’ve heard him having sex all semester.
and unfortunately for you and your self-deprecation, the guy that you’re really into is really good at making you feel better, not just with jokes and compliments, but with soft touches and genuine smiles. 
“i can’t believe you’re staying in with me when you look like that,” you say, shaking your head. you didn’t even have time to change, are still in the same post-shower outfit that you were before. 
“come on, you look better than i do,” he says, shaking his head, taking a sip of his drink and gesturing to you with his cup.
you’re sitting on his floor because the bed was a bit much after the painful conversation you had in the hallway. he’s sitting in front of you, back against his desk, as he sets his drink on the floor beside him. you let yourself flush, accept his compliment if only to fasttrack back to how it felt between the two of you before. 
the thing about more than one drink is that nobody really chooses a stopping point, not when the awkwardness has faded and the guy that you’re really into continues to stay the night with you. and definitely not when said guy has taken root next to you, pressed up against you completely. 
“fuck,” he shakes his head out of nowhere. he doesn’t even give you an opportunity to ask what, just repeats himself, louder, “fuck.”
“what?” you ask, turning to look at him, but not moving a single inch away from him.
“i can’t believe you heard all of that,” he says, shaking his head against the side of the bed. he laughs lightly, unbelievably. “that’s really just so embarrassing.”
for the first time tonight, at the mere mention of it, you don’t want to crawl into your room and cry. you’re not sure what exactly it is (it’s the alcohol), but you laugh with him, light at first, and then growing until you’re shaking your head. it is actually kinda funny. 
“it was funny at first, honestly,” you tell him, “i was like oh my god?? and then it progressively got, yknow, not as funny when i had morning classes and exams.”
“is that why we didn’t meet for the first two months of living next to each other?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. and he does, look at you, stares into your eyes with the amount of focus that someone as drunk as the two of you should not have been able to do.
“not really, more like a gift from god,” you say.
“hey,” he whines.
“yea, that night we met i was coming back from maki’s because i couldn’t take it anymore,” you admit to him. you can see the embarrassment settle in even heavier than before, a remorse coming alongside it. after all this time, you really didn’t mean for him to feel bad about it. “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“i mean, that’s so- i can’t believe-,” he stammers. you’re not used to seeing him like this and you understand why he had to have at least one drink with you before going out, because right now atsumu is feeling exactly how you felt out in the hallway and all you want to do is fix that.
even if it is at your own expense. 
“it’s fine, really, it’s fine,” you say, “it was funny at first, and then annoying, but i mean, eventually-” don’t you fucking dare “eventually it was good for me too.” stop fucking talking.
now he looks really confused and if you don’t explain no fucking stop he’s going to be even more weirded out. 
“well, i just mean, like,” you shrug, “like eventually i started to enjoy it.” shut the fuck up. 
he chooses his next words carefully, or as carefully as he can when the room is slightly moving. “like how?”
don’t say a fucking word. “like listening,” you admit. even in your drunken state, your stomach does flips. 
his face still has tiny elements of confusion, but most of it morphs into something much needier than that. “to me?”
you nod, movements barely noticeable but they’re making your head spin. the air is still, room quiet save for both of your quickened breathing. then, the only thing you can see is his hand, moving so slowly that you assume he’s afraid he’ll scare you off. he reaches across you, cups your cheek and pulls you to face him. when you’re looking at him, he doesn’t move his hand. 
he leans in towards you and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your body or the fact that an hour ago you were terrified that you would never be able to be in this room again, but you lean forward to meet him. he stops, just shy of your lips, talking so low that you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “and doing what?” he asks.
the whimper comes from your throat, lips tightly shut so it doesn’t have a chance to escape you. you lean forward further, pressing your forehead against his as his hand slides down your cheek to your jaw, fingers spanning your neck, curling softly so that his nails drag against your sensitive skin. you can feel it in your entire body. 
he lowers his head, nudges your chin with his nose, pushing your head further into his hand, exposing your neck. “can i?” he asks, breath tickling as he speaks. you’re not sure if he realistically thought you would deny him right now of anything that he wanted, really. you nod softly, not wanting to break out of his grasp.
the first thing that you feel are his teeth, scraping against the softness of your neck. and then you feel his lips closing around the skin. you close your eyes, no point in keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, anyway. atsumu licks a strip up your neck before moving down again. he uses his free hand to pull at the neckline of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. he wraps his lips around the bone, sucking repetitively until you’re positive that there’s purplish marks wherever he picks his head up from.
his moves his hand from your jaw, trust you to keep the position that he’s moved you into, and you do. he rewards you for this, both hands smoothing down your body, following your curves, digging into them as he pleases, latheing his tongue over the same spots on your neck and chest. 
“tsumu,” you whine, not really sure for what, but just for more. his hands are on your thighs now, his fingernails pressing harshly into the fats of them before sliding upwards underneath the hem of your shirt. he can feel your skin in his hands now, can’t get enough of it as he moves his hands everywhere and anywhere he can. 
when he gets to your chest, takes both of your perfectly soft tits into his hand, you hear him stifle a grunt. he moves one hand quickly, grabbing at your hip, sliding down from your waist, pulling you towards him, facing towards him so that he can feel you again, so that he can play with your tits better. his touch is harsher this time, more desperate, more purposeful as he goes straight for your tits, no longer ghosting over your skin, but aching for your heavy tits to be in his hands. 
god, he can only imagine what they fucking look like all pretty and bouncing for him. fuck he needs to see them.
he pulls away from you, sits up from against the bed, moves in front of you. he’s on his knees, towering above you in your seated position. you’re looking up into his eyes, whimpers falling from your quivering lips. he cups your face again. you’re ready. you’re completely ready to recall every little thing that you have heard over the past month. you know atsumu, you know exactly what he likes, and you’re going to blow his fucking mind. 
knock knock knock.
just before his lips can touch yours, there’s a pounding knock on his door. 
“no fucking way,” atsumu says under his breath. 
“miya atsumu, get your ass out here now or i’m breaking down the fucking door.” knock knock knock knock knock knock. it's almost scary until you hear laughter from the hallway, snickering at first and then boisterous. 
“come on, i don’t even interrupt,” you say to atsumu, looking towards the door. 
knock knock knock knock knock knock. “we know you’re in there.”
“they’re not going to leave it alone until i answer,” he says, defeated, “i have to answer and then- then i’ll be right back and-.”
“atsumu, you have 10 seconds and i’m gonna start ramming,” the voice says.
atsumu scurries up from the floor, walking quickly over to the door as you adjust yourself, smoothing out your oversized tshirt and patting your hair. “what?” he hisses as he cracks the door open. the person on the other side of the door pushes it open completely. 
“we’re going out,” one voice says.
“another night,” atsumu says, the door already closing.
“i’m not leaving without you,” another voice replies, not pushing the door back open. 
“and i’m not leaving,” atsumu says, and you can tell he’s getting impatient now. 
from your spot on the floor, you recognize one of them as a guy from one of the photos. dark hair, carefree attitude. suna? you can’t remember exactly if you’ve gotten the name right. you’re surprised that you’ve even noticed the person at all. you don’t recognize any of the other two guys that are with him.
one of them, not suna, makes eye contact with you for the tiniest fraction of a second, “you literally have any other day to hookup with some chick.” you wonder if he thinks they’re being quiet. your cheeks burn. you want to be back in your room now. 
“it’s not like that,” ba-bump, he says, trying to quiet them a bit or at least just bringing his own volume down. 
“doesn’t matter,” one of them says.
“i didn’t want to spoil it, but,” suna says, “samu’s here.”
atsumu gets quiet for a second, really mulling over the weight of everything that’s happening, at the two sides that are pulling him in different directions. “samu’s here?”
“yeah, he was supposed to be here earlier, but his train got in super late and so he just got here and he wants to go out because it’s a saturday night. it was supposed to be a surprise or whatever, but you’re not listening to me, your best friend, and just leaving now. so that’s what you get,” suna spews.
“but i-,” atsumu says, instinctively looking back towards you. the look that you’re wearing almost makes him stay. “fuck.” he slams the door on the trio of guys and you are so grateful. you finally feel like you can breathe, can relax just the tiniest bit. he walks back over to you. “i’ve gotta-.”
you push yourself up from off of the ground, stumbling a little bit as atsumu helps you back onto your feet. “you don’t have to explain yourself, tsumu, go hang out with your friends.”
“if samu wasn’t here, i wouldn’t-.”
“i know,” you say. and it’s the truth. you 100% fully believe him with all of your heart. 
“you could go out with us,” he offers.
you’re not sure that you could handle being referred to as some chick all night or atsumu’s side piece or looked at like you’d never be looked at again. you weren’t ready for a miya atsumu night out and definitely not when you’re already feeling it as much as you are. you shake your head. “you go and have fun, see your brother.”
he looks so torn, so frantic as he tries to think out the rest of his night, how to get drunk you back to your dorm without having to expose you to the people in the hallway. “i’m probably going to stay with rin and samu tonight anyway. do you want to just stay here and maybe,” he hesitates, the knocking starts again, “you can meet my brother in the morning?”
“really?” you ask. 
knock knock knock knock. “it’s literally so getting so fucking late. hurry your ass up.”
atsumu helps you into his bed in not exactly the way he wanted to help you into bed tonight. “yes,” he answers, pulling the blankets over you, the softness of them so familiar. “and samu will love you and you will love him unfortunately.” atsumu reaches down and kisses your cheek. somehow it has you more flustered than anything that’s happened tonight. “tomorrow, okay?”
you nod. 
he moves quickly after he’s noticed how content you are, throwing on his shoes, grabbing his ID from his desk, muttering under his breath things that you’re not sure are meant for you. fucking kidding me now? gonna beat the shit out of him for fucking i can’t fucking. 
“goodnight, yn,” he says, reaching for the door, but not opening until you’ve said it back.
“goodnight, tsumu.”
you hear a click of the door, your eyes closing softly. and then you hear the voices. 
“you’re seriously leaving her in there?”
“guys- seriously,” atsumu says, trying to stop the questions about what was happening in the room before they showed up.
“why’re you leavin’ a one night stand in your-”
“i said it wasn’t fucking like that. leave it,” atsumu says through gritted teeth. you hear the lock click.
“no fucking way. that was fucking her wasnt it?” suna asks.
“stop, she can fucking hear you, the walls are thin,” atsumu snaps. 
you listen for the footsteps as they get quieter and quieter until you can’t hear any at all. you know you should be tired. you are tired, but you’re also in atsumu’s bed all alone. your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is slow and-
you reach your hand down between your legs. 
with the scenes that are playing in your mind, you’re almost sure you could make yourself come with one tiny finger. you spread your lips apart with two fingers, sliding your middle finger down your drenched slit. you push the tip of your finger against your hole, head tilting back messily into his pillow. 
he barely did anything to you at all, felt you up and kissed your neck, and you are soaking wet. your mind won’t stop wandering at where the night could have taken you if you weren’t interrupted. how deep he would be inside of you right now if you hadn’t been interrupted. at that thought, you plunge your fingers inside of you, moaning at how good they feel, but they’re not enough.
you’re missing your dildo, your fingers can’t reach deep enough, not even as you shove another finger in and circle your hips on them. you make the mistake of kneading at your tit, but it only leaves you missing the feeling of his huge hands grabbing at them. you’re feeling so fucking needy. it’s not enough that you’re doing this in his bed, you need to be doing it for him. you roll your hips against your fingers.
your clit rubs against the rough texture of the blanket and you almost come on the spot. “fuck,” you say aloud. you take your other hand on the outside of the blanket and push the fabric in between your legs, circling your hips against it. “mm fuck, tsumu.”
the blanket feels so good against you. he’s slept underneath these blankets, has probably jacked off to the thought of you underneath these blankets “fuck!” you say louder. you know exactly how loud you’re being, but you also know that no one that you care about is around to hear them. 
your hands search around the bed. you don’t have time to feel any regret. it feels so good, you’re chasing this high, so fucking close. your skin feels like it’s crawling, aching. you fucking need this. you throw the blanket off of you, take your panties off and throw them across the room somewhere that you’re sure you will regret when you have to get them in the morning, but you need to feel it completely against your swollen lips and pretty clit. 
you take the pillow that’s underneath your head and shove it between your legs. you press down on the soft pillow as hard as you can to get as much friction as you can as you fuck your clit into fabric that smells so fucking much like atsumu. you’re drenched, sloppy against his pillow but you can’t stop. your fingers grip into the cushion, his name falling off of your tongue like an unheard prayer. 
“please, so close, so close,” you say, thrusting your hips against the pillowcase faster. you’re going to come. you’re going to fucking come on the pillow that he’s going to sleep on. “oh my fucking god,” you cry and you let yourself go, flooding as you come against his pillow. you can feel the mess that you’ve made smearing against the textured fabric.you can’t move. your bones feel like they’ve been replaced with bricks, but you need to see it. you pull the pillow up, your eyes instantly drawn to the large wet spot right in the center. fuck. you throb, so painfully empty. “fuck,” you mutter to yourself and put the pillow back between your legs, “not enough.”
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clalog · 2 months
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Friendly Collaboration: Part 1
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Paring: hokeyplayer!sunghoon × onlyfans!reader
Genre: social media!au; academical rivals; smut
Worming: only fans user; smut (mdni please); swearing; probably grammar mistakes (not English speaker/dyslexic)
Synopsis: Sunghoon get obsessed with a only fan creator he casually find on a stressed day and he truly believes he is in love with her even if he never see her face. He doesn't know that behind the screen his is university rival and he doesn't know what kind of deal they'll make
WC: 1.6k
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-There she is- Ruka screams next to you pointing at your friend Lily who was talking with a girl on the other side of the room.
You and Ruka have left your friend Sunoo with his male friends from the hokey team and start looking for Lily. Is not unusual to lose the blond girl at a party, she is a social butterfly so she knows a lot of people and most of the time she can be talking to somebody and mid sentence taken away by somebody else.
Tonight party was actually kinda boring so you want to leave, but Ruka still had hope of a funny turn so her solution was to meet new people thanks to Lily like you usually did. That’s actually how you meet Sunoo a year ago, Lily is friend with Jake who is in her book club and in the hockey team with Sunoo, something you found out later on and it surprise you since you didn’t imagine the most gay person you haver meet to be this aggressive on ice as he is during matches.
You and Ruka takes Lily attention and she present you to her friend Jiwoo and she was pretty funny that you didn’t notice Lily was lost again.
-I’m going lookin for Sunoo then I’ll left-
-Realy?- Ruka looked kinda disappointed. The fect was the more the night went the more you wanted to go to sleep, and you were so excited at the beginning.
-I’m tired, i’m not going to enjoy the rest of the night, is better if I left now-
-Text me when you arrive home- You nod and leave Ruka with Jiwoo.
After some times you find Heeseung with Joungwoon so you go to them.
-Boys, where is the funny one- Heeseung point at himself smiling.
-I saw him going upstairs, why?- Joungwoon ignore his friend so you do the same.
-Looking for him and see if he want to go home too-
-You want to live?-
-Bored and tired-
-Can’t promise what you are going to find upstairs- You in fact are scared but maybe your friend is in the bathroom vomiting and in need of help so you start looking for him.
Gladly some rooms were closed, some others not but the people inside where to concentrate in their business to notice you were there looking at their naked ass.
Then a door opens suddenly and a girl gets out of there really angry. You already know Sunoo isn’t there but the boy who left the room was wey more interesting to make fun of.
Sunghoon was bottoming his shirt when he was lefting the room.
-So you are not even good to beeing with during sex, why this do not surprise me?-
You and Sunghoon have some classes together and since the beginning the competition between you two started.
Everybody thinks you hate him but in reality you just dislike him, and he is funny to play with. Your little competition makes you want to study more just to piss him off, and that’s amazing since you are in college thanks to a scholarship.
When he notices you he looks pretty pissed off and he could leave without paying you attention, but he is probably like you and he loves your bickering as much as you did. So instead, he pays you attention.
-I’m actually pretty fun, some people on the other hand are pretty boring that they can't even makes me want them-
-Oh yeah I forgot that you are better than us common mortal prince Sunghoon-
-Is important to know when you are mistaken- Obviously he takes your insult as a compliment.
-Didn't Sunoo tell you that I accept to come to this party if you didn’t bother me?-
-If you are or not at a party is not a metter I care so piss you off or not is my decision alone. Talking about our common friend, did you saw him? I want to left but I can’t do it alone-
-Why?- his face was actually confused and you are surprised he isn’t intelligent enough for this common information.
-I’m a women, and is night-
-Ok good point. I want to left too so I’m walking you home- This is a nice act, ok you two don’t actually hate one other but walk you home is not something you two did, this a friend act.
-Absolutely not-
-I’m left this place anyway and Sunoo is geting fuck by both Minho and Jisung, did you want to ruin the moment to him?-
-Both?- Sunghoon nodded.
-Saw them enter this room, he looked kinda excited- The boy leans himself next to a door and paying attention you can hear a good fuking inside.
-Congratulation- Was your comment.
For a couple of seconds you think about it. You can ask Joungwoo to walk you home, you two are kind of friends, or even Kai, a boy of your same course who is brother with one of Wooyoung friends, anyone you would walk without getting angry with. But at the same time you don't want to ruin the night to anyone, except, wheel Sunghoon.
-Ok, but don’t open your month-
-I propose it cause if I don’t walk you home and someone finds out that I knowledge you going home alone and a bad thing happen to you they would blame me, second I don’t want to talk so your silence is better than a friendly conversation anyway-
-Just said you like my company-
-No talking, you decide that-
And that was it, you two walk where the dormitory is without exchanging any words, and that wasn’t embarrassing just cause you know that if you two talk it would be even worse.
Once in front of the girl dorm building you opened the door and he left without even saying bye and you were not surprised.
Once at your room you go straight to Woyoung room and find her happily sleeping. You, Woyoung, Lily and Ruka shared the room since last year and gladly, even if you are four different types of persons, you find in one other a little family.
Woyoung is the type of person that doesn't go to parties but prefers to go to sleep at 10pm to waking up and be productive at 6am. Thanks god so when you wake up you find the breakfast ready every morning when you are late for class.
You taxt Ruka and tell her you are safe at home and, while you were getting ready to go to bed, you noticed how your boobs were bigger than usual, probably because of the pms.
You decide to take a photo of your naked body to post on onlyfans.
You start your account before college, in need of money this was the fastest way and does not cost you a lot of time. You hide your face in every photo and video and that’s kinda why you have a lot of subscribers, they can immagine whoever they like while watching your video or photo. You even post some trailers on other +18 sites so if some people find it and start to get interested in you they would think to get a subscription at your of.
Once you do the post you finish get ready to sleep
While you were sleeping, Sunghoon was alone in his room with an open computer looking for something that would help him jerk off.
He tried to have sex with three different girls, but one was too much intoxicated, another asked him if she could call him daddy, and the last one, the one you saw him with, was just so boring to make out with.
But he wants to take out some stress from the season and the study so he needs to cum.
Then a body that was riding a pinky dildo takes his attention. The curve of that body, the sound the person was making the way they were going up and down, no face or weird dirty talk, not that he didn’t like talking during sex, he loves it especially during role play, but sometimes he just wants sex. Unfortunately the video was too short so he checked other videos on the channel.
And he finds a really interesting one titoled “masturbating after a study section with the class nerd”.
He doesn't call himself a nerd, but he finds it exciting the girl to masturbates next to some class book that can get dirty over her ministration.
He somehow finds it even more hot how she was talking in that video, small sentence but god he was close, until the video ended. He start to get frustrated but he didn’t stop his hands going up and down his dick, just one more video. Holding his dick going the same velocity of the girl in the video doesn't even know which one he clicks.
He find her so good and immagine how tight she probably is notice that all her dildo are small and she never take all of them on her, or the fact that she only take two of her fingers. God she's probably a virgin that’s why she is always alone on her video, he would makes her come so fast. He closed his eyes and in his imagination the girl's body was right in front of him riding the cum out of him.
Free him from a lot of stress, he was kind glade he walk home and find this pornstar. He didn't even clean his abs when he looked for more information about the account and find out that the three short videos he watched was just trailers from an only fans account.
He probably would regret it in the morning but he downloaded the app, gave all his data and subscribed to the account with a random name.
You would find iceprince subscription in the morning and you find it funny because your first thought was that if Sunghoon had an only fans account his nickname would probably look like this.
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ClaLog Masterlist | Story Masterlist
⚠️This is a work of fiction, every reference of character sexuality or personality are from the mind of the author for plot purposes and DO NOT describe the real life person
⚠️Everything on this fiction is from the mind of the author, the stolen of the story or parts of it is punishable by law
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mrsvalentinefucker1 · 9 months
Note
We need medic x virgin reader!!!
Ofc!!!
It had been 4 hours since you found out you and your team would be dying within the next 3 days and all you could do was think of the things you never got to do. Like, traveling, or bringing someone home to meet your parents.. or, having sex-
You were a virgin and it pained you to know you’d die one too. You were getting everything in order for when the 3 days was up.. not that you had to do much considering everyone you know thought you had died when you joined the mercenary group. Though there wasn’t many things you could do within the 3 days.. there was one.
You’ve been studying under medic for some time now and everyday he became closer and closer with you. You were certain that one day he’d just fuck your brains out on the operating table but you were always too scared to make the move. Now that the circumstances are different, what’s it going to hurt to ask, right?
~~~~~~~~~~
You took a deep breath as you prepared to knock on the doctors office door.
Two shallow knocks reached the door, you body shook as you heard the doctor say something behind it
“Come in.” The doctor was obviously stressed out with the whole situation (but what could sex not fix?)
“Hey.. medic.”
“Please y/n, we’ve been over zhis. Call me Ludwig.” The man looked up from his papers “Vhat can I do for you?”
You looked down “I- uh- well it’s a funny story“
“Spit it out, frauline.” The man leaned back in his chair
“I was wondering if you- uhm-“ you began stuttering “ever took someone’s virginity.” You mumbled
The doctor raised an eyebrow “Vhat vas zhat?”
You coughed “if you ever-“ you stretched your fingers “taken someone’s-“
“Virginity?” He chimed in, finishing your sentence
You nodded, face beet red
“Of course I have, vhy do you ask?” Secretly he definitely knew why you asked
“Well. I don’t know if you know this but.. I’m a virgin and, well, I don’t really want to die without ever knowing what sex- felt like.. if that makes sense..?”
The man stood up and walked over to you
“Vhat are you trying to say, Prinzessin?” The man was inches from you, his voice shaking your core
“I want-“ You took another deep breath “I want you to take my virginity, Ludwig.” You stared at the floor “and I have for a long time..”
“How long?” He smirked
“Oh i don’t know.. since I first met you.”
That’s all you had to say. The man had his big calloused hands around you waist, kissing you neck while leaving small bites. Who cares, no one was going to see them and if they did, why did it matter?
You moaned at the new and sudden sensation
Medic grabbed your ass with his hands as he lifted you up and laid you down on his desk, still peppering your neck in kisses.
Medic began to remove your pants and panties, positioning himself in between your shaking legs
“Y/n.”
You looked into his eyes
“Be a good girl for me, ja?”
You nodded frantically
He began lapping at your soaking pussy, taking in all of your juices and flavor. You began pulling at his hair, earning a grunt from him that sent jolts through your smaller form, this sensation was un. real. You swear you were seeing stars and by god the way he worked his tongue on your needy clit was just heaven.
“M-medic! Something’s- happening!!” Of course you’ve had an orgasm before but this felt different.. and it definitely was. You came, squirting all over his face. Your juices leaking off of his glasses and chin.
He continued to keep lapping at your pussy, prodding one finger into your tight hole as he did so.
You moaned out as he began thrusting his thick finger in and out of your inexperienced cunt.
“M-more!!”
He pulled away from you can’t for a moment “Bitten” he thrusted his finger into you to accentuate his command
“Please!! Please doctor, please Fuck me- I- I need it!! Oh my go-ah-d!”
“Good girl.. you’ll like zhis. Watch.”
Medic smiled against your cunt again as he slipped another finger in, scissoring your pussy open to take him.
“Fuck- Ludwig- I’m gonna-“ your eyes rolled back into your skull as your body shook from another orgasm. Grabbing his hair tightly as you did. Medic stood tall again, wiping his face and glasses onto his clean shirt.
He walked over to the shelf he had next to his desk and pulled a small box down.
He took the contents out and began explaining them to you
“So. Y/n.”
You nodded
“Have you ever used a vibrator before?”
You shook your head “n-no..”
The man laughed maniacally
“Zhis vill be so much fun! I’m going to break zhat pretty body of yours, y/n!”
He was already straining against his pants from the way you were unapologetically moaning his name earlier
“You’re vet enough already.. but ve’ll still use lubricant, ok?”
“Ok..”
he popped the cap and drizzled a generous amount onto the toy, he placed the tip near your pussy and switched it on. The buzzing was unfamiliar to you and took you by surprise
“Oh-!” You yelped
Medic Chuckled as he ran the toy up and down your folds. You were a moaning mess.
“My my.. doesn’t take much to get you ready, now does it?” Medic poked fun at your shaken and tired form
“Please..”
“Hmm? Please Vhat, liebling?”
“Please put it in me already.. I want to be filled..”
medic complied as he began slowly slipping the toys head in and out of cunt
You let moans flow freely, letting yourself become entranced in the feeling of freeness
He began plunging the vibrating toy into your pussy hitting your g-spot every time. He held his hand onto your lower stomach where he could feel the toy buzzing inside of you.
He let out and animalistic growl as he felt the length within you. When you were nearing your orgasm medic ripped the toy away from you.
“I- I was close! What was that for!?”
“Don’t vant you too fucked out, now do we?” He began unzipping his pants and freeing his aching cock. He put some of the open lube onto his cock, pumping it until he was fully coated
“are you sure you vant to still do zhis?”
“Fuck.. yes. Fill me up, Ludwig!”
He placed his cock head at you sopping entrance
You both let out a moan as he entered your head slowly. “You’re so tight.. mein Gott..”
He felt you tear slightly around him, earning a small yelp from you.
“It’s ok, y/n. It’ll only hurt for a moment.”
You nodded
He waited for you to say it was ok for him to continue and when you did he shoved himself into your warm cunt
“Scheiße” his head fell onto your shoulder as sweat began sticking to his forehead
His thrusts became more hard and rough as time went on, his cock penetrating you like your fingers never could have, balls heavy with cum smacked your ass as he plowed into you pussy
“Fuck- fuck- fuck-“ you gripped his back, leaving red scratches through his shirt.
“Gonna cum- Ludwig- please-“ you could only mumble words as he fucked into you
“Cum? Oh liebling cum around my cock. Let me mold my dick into your tight pussy forever! No one can ever make you feel zhis good, is zhat right?”
“No! Never!! And- and I never want them to!”
You moaned out into his ear as he gripped your hips tightly
“Oh god!! Fuck!” Your eyes rolled back and mouth laid agape as you came, the doctor not far behind
“Please- inside me-“
“You vant me cum inside of you? What a slut, y/n! Zhis is your first time!”
You nodded “I don’t care!!” You moaned out “fuck me full of your children!! Please!!!”
Medic did as you asked, moaning loudly as he came deep within your not-so-virgin cunt. Claiming you as his.
You trembled around him, your body still trying to milk his cock for every last drop of cum he had.
He slid out of your abused pussy and smirked at you as you looked into his fogged glasses. “You don’t zhink we’re done yet do you?” He took them off to clean them so he could see your flushed, fucked face. “Ve still have 30 hours to go!”
____
Buy me a Kofi☕️!
Definitely not required but they do help:)
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When Kaeya Falls For You—Flirting Headcannons + lil fic ♡
Oh the ever-so-smooth and notorious flirt, Cavalry Captain Kaeya. Everyone knows him for his charm and dashing smile, accompanied by his heart-meltingly good looks. Nothing could ever hope to shake this cool and collected man. Until you came along and shattered him :) happy reading!
Kaeya x gn!reader II Fluffy fluffy fluffy!!
Content warnings: gettin’ drunk! One swear word :)
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Listen, listen, listen. I KNOW you think I’m gonna say “awh he’s a smooth talker!!!! He rizzes you up!!!” NO. UH UH. LISTEN.
I think when Kaeya’s down bad he’s down BAD.
He smooth-talks to flirt with everyone. He does it to the other knights, to complete strangers, even to the cute ol’ granny he helped carry a heavy basket for. It’s seriously platonic. So obviously, when Jean introduces you to him as a researcher that will be using the Favonious library for the next few weeks, he dives right in. Jean, uncomfortable as ever when witnessing Kaeya’s flirty assault, gives him a grim look before taking her leave. In his presence, you blush just like everyone does, you look to the ground and perspire. But here’s the thing—you’re like…the prettiest person Kaeya has ever seen. He’s actually…kinda nervous around you the first time you meet. So he’s not as smooth as he usually is—fumbling and floundering with his words as your sweet puppy dog eyes meet his.
It doesn’t take long before he’s beyond smitten. Your adorable gentle “hello!” every morning at the favonious headquarters, your beautiful little absentminded compulsions like twirling your hair or biting your lips when you zone out, and…you’re actually really funny. Even if you aren’t trying to, you get him to giggle like a doofus—effectively scuttling his smooth and collected demeanor.
So we’ve established that Mr.Man CANNOT talk to you. You throw him off his rhythm. So what does he do?
Well…honestly…he starts to avoid you. He does anything in his power to escape a conversation with you. But he can’t just leave you alone! He likes you too much. So he finds himself scouring the favonious library for you any chance he gets.
If he sees you sitting alone at a study table or in a little reading nook by the window, he hangs around in the area, discreetly looking your way ever so often while pretending to look at books. It’s not discreet at all. He’s staring. He’s holding the book upside down. Once he works up enough courage, he either sits right next to you or directly across from you. Leaving you a bit confused as to why he didn’t choose any other seat in this completely empty library.
Without his vocal charisma, poor Kaeya is lost. Even the mere thought of you acknowledging him sends his brain into panic mode; rational thinking off and body on autopilot. All he can do is follow his instincts. And his instinct is to get close to you. Like…proximity close. Like…real close.
When I say real close, I mean…real close. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. It’s like you’re a Kaeya magnet. He’s not close enough until his thigh is right up against yours. It’s a little jarring the first time it happens, you think, “Um…isn’t this the guy that actively avoids me?”. But it’s…nice. It’s comfortable. And you’re not going to reject affection from a guy you find insanely attractive.
But he can’t avoid conversation with you forever, since he’s basically stalking you. After a while, you relax and begin to genuinely enjoy his presence, his crooked smile when you make eye contact with him, how he nervously fiddles with his eyepatch around you.
So you ask him out. Not really on a date. Just asking if he wants to go grab a drink at Angel’s Share with you. Like good acquaintances do.
He knows he won’t be able to talk to you.
He knows he’s going to look like an idiot flubbing every sentence he tries to get out.
He knows he has to say no.
“Y-yeah! Yes. Yes I’d l-love(his voice actually cracks) that! (Cough) l-I mean! I’d like that! Very much.”
This was gonna be a rough night.
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After you finish up your reading (and in turn Kaeya finishes staring at you reading), you two walk to the bar together.
The whole way there, you try to make idle chit-chat, but Kaeya is tensed up like he somehow contacted tetanus on the way out of the headquarters. Lockjaw mode enabled, man. He can only get himself to respond with stiff nods or head shakes. Maybe an “mhm” if he really exerts himself. He is, simply, a mess.
You honestly start to worry about him.
But before you can ask him about it, you two make it to the bar.
He should’ve asked to go to the Cat’s Tail instead.
‘Cause of course his brother is bartending tonight.
Too late to turn back now!
Dread washes over him as you sit yourself down on a barstool directly in front of Diluc. Not only does he have to be in the same space as Diluc when he’s this off his game, Diluc has front row tickets to Kaeya making a complete ass of himself.
Immediately when he takes a seat, Diluc’s attention snaps to him—raising an eyebrow at Kaeya sitting stiff as a board.
You cheerily greet Diluc, asking for two Death After Noon’s! Thank Barbados you ordered for him. And his favorite drink! How did you know?
Diluc side-eyes Kaeya, hesitantly turning to fix your drinks.
You turn to Kaeya, one elbow on the counter as you rest your head on your hand.
He seizes, bracing himself for a question or statement from you that requires a response.
But the blow never comes. You just start talking about your day, your favorite foods, your favorite drink (which just so happens to be a Death After Noon), anything that really comes to mind.
He is bewildered by your monologuing, but not in offense. He greatly appreciates the verbal slack you’re giving him.
As you go on and on, he absentmindedly moves closer to you, until you’re nearly nose to nose—you still eagerly prattling away, him soaking up every word.
After a few drinks, his jaw unlocks, allowing him to at least respond to you—though he’s still a nervous and stuttering mess.
“T-that’s so interesting!” “So you’re a f-fan of t-those? Um neato! (Why the fuck did he say neato)” “Y-you’re so c-cool! I mean—like, um! Like you’re such a good talker! I-I mean you’re…I—I love—LIKE! I LIKE! Listening to you!!!”
Diluc is ENRAPTURED.
He is eating this up.
This is the most entertained he’s EVER BEEN.
He is eternally grateful to you for this. Free drinks for life. Don’t expect to have to pay your tab tonight. Kaeya’s foolish clip-show is payment enough.
You don’t hold it against him. You think it’s sweet! And you’ve definitely caught on to his feelings for you. I mean—literally every person in Mondstadt has caught on to his feelings for you.
Poor baby. He thinks he’s doing a good job of hiding it.
After a few more drinks, he really loosens up. He starts to share a bit himself, telling stories of his own and asking coherent questions. The only problem is…
You thought he was close before?
No, no, sister (this term is universal).
NOW he’s close.
You literally taste his breath in your mouth. Don’t worry, it doesn’t taste bad. You wouldn’t mind tasting it a little better…
Oh crap, you’re pretty sloshed too.
But what’s this? You’re a quiet drunk :)
So now it’s your turn to listen and Kaeya’s turn to talk!
You listen to his chatter as he holds you around the waist with one arm. At some point, he pulled your barstool to knock against his, your thigh touching his once again. But now touching thighs isn’t enough. He goes so far as to bring your leg up to rest on top of his—leaning his forearm on the table to bring himself chest-to-chest with you.
Diluc is revoking his eternal gratitude.
You’re paying your tab in full tonight. Or more accurately—he’s making Kaeya pay your tab in full when the lousy drunkard eventually wanders back into his bar.
He kicks you guys out.
Kaeya walks you home. Or more accurately, you walk Kaeya to your home—his drunk ass clinging to your shoulders as you drag him behind you.
He leans against your door frame as you fumble trying to unlock your door, unknowingly kabedoning you from behind. You think you had Kaeya flustered? Every time he gets this close you flush and go dizzy. Especially now that you’re drunk.
You finally get your door open, but Kaeya snatches your bicep before you retreat inside—bidding him goodbye.
He pulls your face back in to his and you wonder where the flubbering goofball from a few hours ago went. You were CONVINCED he could never be this smooth.
“I really like you. Can we do this again?”, he breathes.
“Y-yes.”, you stutter, “I-I like you too…”
The next day, all of Mondstadt knows you’re officially dating. You know, because of your public groping at the most popular bar in the nation last night. It wasn’t really groping, but word of mouth has a habit of exaggerating. At least Kaeya is saved the tortuous endeavor of asking you to date him himself after sobering up and returning to his inept state.
As your relationship deepens and grows, his clumsy mouth returns to its once renowned oral prowess—him now being able to purr sweet nothings into your ear, making you the flustered mess in this relationship. Oh how the tables are knocked on their ass. Now that his flirting is saved only for you, his silver tongue is relentless in its assault. All day every day. Enjoy~. Cause if it’s up to Kaeya, he’ll be showering you with his romantic whispers for the rest of your lives.
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